PROLOGUE IN Troy, there lyes the Scene: From Isles of Greece With wanton Paris fleeps, and that's the Quarrel. And the deep-drawing Barks do there difgorge Now Expectation tickling skittish Spirits, Like, or find fault, do as your Pleasures are, Helen, Wife to Menelaus, in Love with Paris. Creffida, Daughter to Calchas, in Love with Troilus. Trojan and Greek Soldiers, with other Attendants. SCENE Troy and the Grecian Camp. ALL here my Varlet, I'll unarm again. That find fuch cruel Battel here within? Each Trojan that is Master of his Heart, Let him to Field, Troilus alas hath none. Pan. Will this Geer ne'er be mended? Troi. The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their strength, But I am weaker than a Woman's Tear, T 3 Pan. Pan. Well, I have told you enough of this : For my Part, I'll not meddle nor make any farther. He that will have a Cake out of the Wheat, muft needs tarry the Grinding. Troi. Have I not tarried? Pan. Ay, the Grinding; but you must tarry the Boulting. Pan. Ay, the Boulting; but you must tarry the Leav'ning. Troi. Still have I tarried. Pan. Ay, to the Leav'ning: 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 her felf, what Goddefs e'er fhe be, And when fair Creffid comes into my Thoughts, So, Traitor!When he comes, when he is thence She look'd yesternight fairer than ever I faw her look, Trei. I was about to tell thee, when my Heart, But Sorrow, that is couch'd in feeming Gladness, Pan. And 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 Kinswoman, I would not (as they term it) praise it—but I would fome Body had heard her talk yesterday, as I did: I will not difpraise your Sifter Caffandra's Wit, but Troi. O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus. They lye intrench'd. I tell thee, I am mad Her Eyes, her Hair, her Cheek, her Gate, her Voice, Handle Handleft in thy Discourse—O that! her Hand ! ------ Writing their own Reproach) to whofe foft feizure Thou lay'ft in every gafh that Love hath given me, Pan. I fpeek no more than Truth. Troi. Thou doft not fpeak fo mich. Pan. 'Faith, I'll not meddle in't. if the be fair, 'tis the better for her; has the mends in her own hands. Let her be as fhe is, and the be not, fhe 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 be tween, but fmall thanks for my labour. Troi. What art thou angry, Pandarus? what, with me? Pan. Because he is Kin to me, therefore fhe's not so fair as Helen; and he were not Kin to me, fhe would be as fair on Friday, as Helen is on Sunday. But what care I? I care not and the were a Black-a-More, 'tis all one to me, Troi. Say I, he is not fair? Pan. I do not care whether you do or no. She's a Fool to ftay behind her Father: Let her to the Greeks, and fo I'll tell her the next time I fee her : for my part, I'll meddle nor make no more i'th' matter, Troi. Pandarus Pan. Not I. Troi. Sweet Pandarus Pan. Pray you speak no more to me, I will leave all as I found it, and there's an end. [Exit Pandarus. [Sound Alarum, Troi. Peace, you ungracious Clamours, peace rude Sounds, Fool, on both fides, Helen muft needs be fair, When with your Blood you daily paint her thus. I cannot fight upon this Argument, It is too ftarv'd a Subject for my Sword: But Pandarus-O Gods! how do you plague me! cannot come to Creffid, but by Pandarus, And |