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Leaps o'er the vaunt* and firstlings of those broils,
* Avaynt, what went before.
TROILUS AND CRESSIDA.
SCENE I. Troy.
Before Priam's palace.
Enter Troilus arm'd, and Pandarus.
my varlet*, I'll unarm again:
Pan. Will this geert ne'er be mended ?
Pan. Well, I have told you enough of this : for my part, I'll not meddle nor make no further. He,
* A servant to a knight.
that will have a cake out of the wheat, must tarry the grinding.
Tro. Have I not tarried?
Pan. Ay, the grinding ; but you must tarry the bolting
Tro. Have I not tarried ?
Pan. Ay, the bolting; but you must tarry the leavening.
Tro. Still have I tarried.
Pan. Ay, to the leavening : but here's yet in the word-hereafter, the kueading, 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.
Tro. Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be, Doth lesser blench* at sufferance than I do. At Priam's royal table do I sit; And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts, So, traitor!-- when she comes! When is she
thence ? Pan. Well, she looked yesternight fairer than ever I saw her look, or any woman else.
Tro. I was about to tell thee-When my heart,
Pan. An her hair were not somewhat darker than Helen's, (well, go to), there were no more comparison between the women,-But, for my part, she is my kinswoman; I would not, as they term it, praise her,--But I would somebody had heard her talk yesterday, as I did. I will not dispraise your sis. ter Cassandra's wit; but
Tro. 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
Pan. I speak no more than truth.
Pan. 'Faith, I'll not meddle in't. Let her be as she is : if she be fair, 'tás better for her; an she be not, she has the mends in her own hands.
Tro. Good Pandarus! How now, Pandarus?
Pan. I have had my labour for my travail; ill. thought on of her, and ill-thought on of you: gone between and between, but small thanks for my labour. Tro. What, art thou angry, Pandarus? what, with
me? Pan. Because she is kin to me, therefore, she's not so fair as Helen: an she were not kin to me, she would be as fair on Friday, as Helen is on Sunday, But what care I? I care not, an she were a black-amoor; 'tis all one to me.
Tro. Say I, she is not fair?
Pan. I do not care whether you do or no. She's a fool to stay behind her father; let her to the Greeks; and so I'll tell her the next time I see ber: for my part, I'll meddle nor make no more in the matter.
leave all as I found it, and there an end.
[Erit Pandarus. An Alarum, Tro. Peace, you ungracious clamours !
peace, rude sounds! Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair, When with your blood you daily paint her thus. I cannot fight apon this argument; It is too staro'd a subject for my sword. But Pandarus-O gods, how do you plague me! I cannot come to Cressid, but by Pandar; And he's as tetchy to be woo'd to woo, As she is stubborn-chaste against all suit. Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne's love, What Cressid is, what Pandar, and what we? Her bed is India; there she lies, a pearl: Between our Ilium, and where she resides, Let it be call'd the wild and wandering flood; Ourself, the merchant; and this sailing Pandar, Our doubtful hope, our convoy, and our bark.
Alarum. Enter Æneas.
Æne. How now, prince Troilus? wherefore not
afield? Tro. Because not there; This woman's answer
Æne. That Paris is returned home, and hurt.
Troilus, by Menelaus. Tro. Let Paris bleed: 'tis but a scar to scorn; Paris is gor'd with Menelaus' horn. [Alarum.
Æne. Hark! what.good sport is out of town to
Tro. Better at home, if would I might, were