IN Troy, there lies the fcene. From ifles of Greece b With wanton Paris fleeps; And that's the quarrel. And the deep-drawing barks do there difgorge C And correfponfive and fulfilling bolts, d Sperrs up the fons of Troy. Now expectation, tickling skittish fpirits, e To tell you, fair beholders, that our play Like, or find fault; do as your pleasures are; orgilleus,]—proud, haughty. fulfilling]-nicely fitting their fockets. barricadoes. bimmures-walls. arm'd,]-in a drefs adapted to the character I fuftain in this warlike the vaunt and firflings]-high speeches, and firft efsays, play. the prelude. Now good, now bad. PERSONS HELEN, Wife to MENELAUS. ANDROMACHE, Wife to HECTOR. CASSANDRA, Daughter to PRIAM, a Prophetess. ALEXANDER, CRESSIDA'S Servant. Boy, Page to TROILUS. Servant to DIOMED. Trojan and Greek Soldiers, with other Attendants. SCENE-TROY, and the Grecian Camp before it. THIS PLAY was probably written in the year 1602; the principal circumstances of it are extracted from LYDGATE'S TROY-BOKE, and CHAUCER'S TALE OF TROILUS AND CRESSEIDE, TROILUS TROILUS AND CRESSIDA. ACT I. SCENE I. TROY. Priam's Palace. Enter Pandarus, and Troilus. Troi. Call here my varlet", I'll unarm again : Let him to field; Troilus, alas! hath none. i Troi. The Greeks are ftrong, and skilful to their strength, Fierce to their skill, and to their fiercenefs valiant; But I am weaker than a woman's tear, Tamer than fheep, fonder than ignorance; Lefs valiant than the virgin in the night, And skill-lefs as unpractis'd infancy. Pan. Well, I have told you enough of this: for my hvarlet,]-valet. i Will this geer ne'er be mended?]-Will this foolery never end? fonder]-more childish. part, I'll not meddle nor make no further. He, that will have a cake out of the wheat, must tarry the grinding. Troi. Have I not tarry'd? Pan. Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the boulting. Troi. Have I not tarry'd? Pan. Ay, the boulting; but you must tarry the leavening. Troi. Still have I tarry'd. Pan. Ay, to the leavening: but here's yet in the word -hereafter, the kneading, the making of the cake, the heating of the oven, and the baking; nay, you must stay the cooling too, or you may chance to burn your lips. Troi. Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be, Doth leffer' blench at fufferance than I do. At Priam's royal table do I fit; And when fair Creffid comes into my thoughts,- Troi. I was about to tell thee,-When my heart, Pan. An her hair were not fomewhat darker than Helen's, (well, go to) there were no more comparison between the women,-But, for my part, fhe is my kinfwoman; I would not, as they term it, praife her, -But 1 would fomebody had heard her talk yesterday, as I did. I will not difpraise your fifter Caffandra's wit: but Troi. O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus,When I do tell thee, There my hopes lie drown'd, 1 blench]-fhrink. Reply Reply not in how many fathoms deep In Creffid's love: Thou answer'ft, She is fair; Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice; In whose comparison all whites are ink, Thou lay'ft in every gafh that love hath given me Pan. I fpeak no more than truth. Troi. Thou doft not speak fo much. Pan, 'Faith, I'll not meddle in't. Let her be as fhe is: if fhe be fair, 'tis the better for her; an fhe be not," she has the mends in her own hands. Troi. Good Pandarus! How now, Pandarus? Pan. I have had my labour for my travel; ill-thought on of her, and ill-thought on of you: gone between and between, but fmall thanks for my labour. Troi. What, art thou angry, Pandarus? what, with me? Pan. Because she is kin to me, therefore fhe's not fo fair as Helen: an fhe were not kin to me, fhe would be as fair on friday, as Helen is on funday. But what care I? 'tis all one to me. I care not an fhe were a black-a-moor; She's a Pan. I do not care whether you do or no. fool, to stay behind her father; let her to the Greeks; in fpirit of fenfe]-in the judgment of a truly refined sense, of the moft exquifite fenfibility-and Spirit of fenfe. "fbe has the mends]-the means of improving her complexion, the power of amending it by cofmetics. B 4 and |