PROLOGUE

N Troy, there lyes the Scene; From Ifles of Greece
The Princes Orgillons, their high Blood chaf'd,
Have to the Port of Athens fent their Ships
Fraught with the Minifters and Instruments,
Of Cruel War: Sixty and nine that wore
Their Crownets Regal, from th' Athenian Bay
Put forth toward Phrygia, and their Vow is made
To ranfack Troy, within whofe ftrong Immures,
The ravifh'd Helen, Menelaus Queen,

With wanton Paris fleeps, and that's the Quarrel.
To Tenedos they come,

And the deep-drawing Barks do there difgarge
Their warlike Fraughtage: Now on Dardan Plains,
The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks, do pitch
Their brave Pavillions. Priam's fix-gated City,
Dardan, and Timbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien,
And Antenonidus, with maffy Staples,
And correfponfive and fulfilling Bolts,
Stir up the Sons of Troy.

Now Expectation tickling skittish Spirits,
On one and other fide, Trojan and Greek,
Sets all on hazard. And hither am I come
A Prologue arm'd, but not in confidence
Of Author's Pen, or Actor's Voice; but suited
In like Conditions, as our Argument;
To tell you (fair Beholders) that our Play
Leaps o'er the vaunt and firstlings of thofe Broils,
Beginning in the middle: starting thence away,
To what may be digefted in a Play:
Like, or find fault, do as your Pleasures are,
Now good, or bad, 'tis but the Chance of War.

Drammatis

Helen, Wife to Menelaus, in Love with Paris.
Andromache, Wife to Heator.

Creffida, Daughter to Calchas, in Love with
Troilus.

Trojan and Greek Soldiers, with other Attendants.

SCENE Troy and the Grecian Camp.

TRO

TROILUS

AND

CRESSID A

ACTI. SCENE I

SCENE Troy,

Enter Pandarus and Troilus.

TROILUS..

ALL here my Varlet, I'llunarm again.
Why fhould I war without the Walls,
Troy,

That find fuch cruel Battel here within
Each Trajan that is Mafter of his Heart

Let him to Field, Troilus alas hath none.

Pan. Will this Geer ne'er be mended?

Troi, The Greeks are ftrong, and skilful to their frength Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant :

But I am weaker than a Woman's Tear,

Tamer than Sleep, fonder than Ignorance;
Lefs valiant than the Virgin in the Night,
And skillefs as unpratis'd Infancy.
VOL. IV.

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my

Pan. Well, I have told you enough of this Fort 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 carry the Boulting. Troi. Have I not tarried?

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 the be, Doth leffer bleneh at Sufferance, than I do :

At Priam's Royal Table I do fit ;

And when fair Creffid comes into my Thoughts,

So, Traitor!

Pan. Well,

When fhe comes, when the is thence

She look'd yefternight fairer than ever I saw her look,
Or any Woman elle.

Troi. I was about to tell thee, when my Heart,;
As wedged with a figh, would rive in twain,
Left Hector, or my Father fhould perceive me,
I have (as when the Sun doth light a Storm)
Buried this figh, in wrinkle of a fmile:

But Sorrow, that is couch'd in feeming Gladnefs,
Is like that Mirth Fate turns to fudden Sadness.

Pan. And her Hair were, not fomewhat darker than Helen's well-go to, there were no more Comparifon between the Women. But for my part fhe is my Kinfwoman, I would not (as they term it) praife 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
When I do tell thee, there my Hopes lye drown'd,
Reply not in how many Fathoms deep

They lye ir trench'd. I tell thee, I am mad
In Crefid's Love. Thou anfwer'ft, he is Fair,
Pour'ft in the open Ulcer of my Heart,

Her Eyes, her Hair, her Cheek, her Gate, her Voice,

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