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,

Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant. • But I am weaker than a woman's tear,

Tamer than fleep, fonder than ignorance;

• Less 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 part, I'll not meddle nor make any farther.

He that will have a cake out of the wheat, must needs tarry the grinding.

Troi. Have I not tarried?

Pan. Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry 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 bura your lips.

Troi. Patience herself, what goddess e'er the 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,

So, traitor!.

when the comes? when is the thence? Pan. Well, fhe look'd yesternight fairer than ever I faw her look, or any woman else.

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 fun doth light a ftorm)
Buried this figh in wrinkle of a smile.

But forrow that is couch'd in feearing gladness,
Is like that mirth fate turns to fudden fadness.

Pan, An' her hair were not fomewhat darker than Helen's- Well, go to, there were no more comparison • fonder, for more childish.

between the women. But, for my part, fhe is my kinfwoman; I would not (as they term it) praise her— but I would fome body had heard her talk yesterday as I did. I will not dispraise your fifter Caffandra's wit, but

Troi. O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus

When I do tell thee, there my hopes lie drown'd,
Reply not, in how many fathoms deep

They lie indrench'd. I tell thee, I am mad
In Creffid's love. Thou answer'ft, she is fair;
Pour'ft in the open ulcer of my heart

Her eyes,
her hair, her cheek, her gate, her voice;
Handleft in thy discourse-O that! her hand!
(In whofe comparison, all whites are ink,

Writing their own reproach), to whofe foft feizure
The cygnet's down is harfh, and (fpite of fenfe)
Hard as the palm of ploughman. This thou tell'ft me.
(As true thou tell'ft me), when I fay I love her.
But faying thus, instead of oil and balm,

Thou lay ft in every gash that love hath given me,
The knife that made it.

Pan. I fpeak no more than truth.

Troi. Thou doft not speak so much.

Pan. 'Faith, I'll not meddle in't. Let her be as fre is; if she be fair, 'tis the better for her; an' fhe be not, fhe 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 small 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 Sunday. what care I? I care not an' fhe were a Black-a-moor; 'tis all one to me.

Troi. Say I fhe is not fair?

Pan. I do not care whether you do or no.

But

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.

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

-founds!

Fools 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 fubject for my fword.

But Pandarus-0 gods! how do you plague me?
I cannot come to Creffid, but by Pandar;
And he's as teachy to be woo'd to woo,
As fhe is ftubborn chaste against all fuit.
Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne's love,
What Creffid is, what Pandar, and what we.
Her bed is India, there fhe lies a pearl.
Between our Ilium, and where the refides,
Let it be call'd the wild and wandering flood;
Ourself the merchant, and this failing Pandar,
Our doubtful hope, our convoy, and our bark.

SCENE II. Alarum. Enter Æneas.

Ene. How now, Prince Troilus? wherefore not i' th' field?

Troi. Becaufe not there. This woman's answer forts, For womanifh it is to be from thence.

What news, Æneas, from the field to-day?

Ene. That Paris is returned home, and hurt.
Troi. By whom, Æneas?

Ene Troilus, by Menelaus.

Troi. Let Paris bleed, 'tis but a scar to scorn.

Paris is gor'd with Menelaus' horn.

[Alarum. Ene. Hark, what good fport is out of town to-day? Troi. Better at home, if would I might, were may— Are you bound thither?

But to the sport abroad.

Ene. In all swift hafte.
Troi. Come, go we then together.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Changes to a public fireet, near the walls of Troy.
Enter Creffida, and her fervant.

Cre. Who were thofe went by ?
Ser. Queen Hecuba and Helen.

Cre. And whither go they?
Ser. Up to the eastern tower,

Whole height commands as fubject all the vale,
To fee the fight. Hector, whole patience
Is as the virtue fix'd, to day was mov'd.
He chid Andromache, and struck his armorer;
And like as there were husbandry in war,
Before the fun rofe, he was harness'd light
And to the field goes he ; where ev'ry flower
Did as a prophet weep what it forefaw,

In Hector's wrath,

Cre, What was his caufe of anger?

Ser. The noife goes thus; there is among the Greeks A Lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Hector,

They call him Ajax.

Gre. Good; and what of him?

Ser. They fay, he is a very man per fe, and stands alone.

Gre. So do all men, unless they are drunk, fick, or have no legs.

Ser. This man, Lady, hath robb'd many beasts of their particular additions: he is as valiant as the lion, churlish as the bear, flow as the elephant; a man into whom nature hath fo crouded humours, that his valour is crufted into folly, his folly fauced with difcretion. There is no man hath a virtue, that he has not a glimpse of; nor any man an attaint, but he carries fome ftain of it. He is melancholy without cause, and merry against the hair; he hath the joints of every thing, but every thing fo out of joint, that he is a goutty Briareus, many hands, and of no ufe; or a purblind Argus, all eyes, and no fight.

Cre. But how fhould this man, that makes me fmile, make Hector angry?

Ser. They fay, he yefterday cop'd Hector in the battle,,

and ftruck him down, the difdain and fhame whereof hath ever fince kept Hector fafting and waking.

SCENE

Cre. Who comes here?

IV.

Pandarus.

Ser. Madam, your uncle Pandarus.
Cre. Hector's a gallant man.

Ser. As may be in the world, Lady.

Pan. What's that? what's that?
Cre. Good-morrow, uncle Pandarus.

Pan. Good morrow, coufin Creffid; what do you

talk of Good morrow, Alexander *

you, cousin ? when were you at Ilium †?

Cre. This morning, uncle.

how do

Pan. What were you talking of when I came ? was Hector arm'd and gone ere you came to Ilium? Helen was not up? was the ?

Gre. Hector was gone, but Helen was not up.
Pan. E'en fo; Hector was ftirring early.

Gre. That were we talking of, and of his anger.
Pan. Was he angry?

Cre. So he fays, here,

Pan. True, he was fo; I know the caufe too. He'll lay about him to-day, I can tell them that; and there's Troilus will not come far behind him, let them take heed of Troilus; I can tell them that too.

Gre. What, is he angry too?

Pan, Who, Troilus?

of the two.

Troilus is the better man

Gre. Oh, Jupiter, there's no comparison.

Pan. What, not between Troilus and Hector? do

you know a man, if you fee him?

Cre. Ay, if I ever faw him before, and knew him. Pan. Well, I fay, Troilus is Troilus.

Gre. Then you fay as I fay; for I am fure he is not Hector.

Pan. No, nor Hector is not Troilus, in fome degrees. Gre. 'Tis juft to each of them, he is himself.

• This is added in all the editions very abfurdly, Paris not being on the stage.

+ Throughout the play the name of Ilium feems to be given only to Priam's palace.