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PROLOGU E.

IN Troy, there lies the scene. From ifles of Greece
The princes orgulous, their high blood chaf'd,
Have to the port of Athens sent their ships
Fraught with the minifters and inftruments
Of cruel war: Sixty and nine, that wore
Their crownets regal, from the Athenian bay
Put forth toward Phrygia: and their vow is made,
To ranfack Troy; within whofe strong immures
The ravish'd Helen, Mene.aus' queen,

With wanton Paris fleeps; And that's the quarrel.
To Tenedos they come;

And the deep-drawing barks do there difgorge
Their warlike fraughtage: Now on Dardan plains
The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch
Their brave pavilions: Priam's fix-gated city,
Dardan, and Tymbria, Ilias, Chetas, Trojan,
And Antenorides, with maffy staples,
And correfponfive and fulfilling bolts,
Sperr up the fons 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 fuited
In like conditions as our argument,-
To tell you, fair beholders, that our play
Leaps o'er the vaunt and firstlings of those broils,
'Ginning in the middie; ftarting 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.

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CALCHAS, a Trojan priest, taking part with the Greeks. PANDARUS, Uncle to Creffida.

MARGARELON, a baftard son of Priam.

AGAMEMNON, the Grecian General :

MENELAUS, his brother.

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THERSITES, a deformed and fcurrilous Grecian.

ALEXANDER, fervant to Creffida.

Servant to Troilus; Servant to Paris; Servant to Diomedes.

HELEN, wife to Menelaus.

ANDROMACHE, wife to Hector.

CASSANDRA, daughter to Priam; a Prophetess.
CRESSIDA, daughter to Calchas.

Trojan and Greek Soldiers, and Attendants.

SCENE, Troy, and the Grecian Camp before it.

TROILUS AND CRESSIDA.

ACT I. SCENE I.

C

Troy. Before Priam's Palace.

Enter TROILUS arm'd, and PANDARUS.

Troilus.

ALL here my varlet, I'll unarm again :

Why should I war without the walls of Troy,

That find fuch cruel battle 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?

Tro. The Greeks are strong, 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 fleep, fonder than ignorance; Lefs valiant than the virgin in the night, And fkill-lefs as unpractis'd infancy.

Pan. Well, I have told you enough of this: for my part, I'll not meddle nor make no further. He, that will have a cake out of the wheat, must tarry the grinding. Tro. Have I not tarry'd?

Pan. Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the bolting. Tro. Have I not tarry'd?

Pan. Ay, the bolting; but you muft tarry the leavening.

B

Tro

Tro. 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. Tro. 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,

So, traitor!-when he comes!

-When is the thence?

Pan. Well, the look'd yesternight fairer than ever I faw her look; or any woman else.

Tro. 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,)
Bury'd this figh in wrinkle of a fmile :
But forrow, that is couch'd in feeming 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 between the women,-But, for my part, the is my kinswoman; I would not, as they term it, praife her,-But I would fomebody had heard her talk yesterday, as I did. I will not dispraise your sister Caffandra's wit: butTro. 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 anfwer'ft, She is fair
Pour'st in the open ulcer of my heart

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Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice;
Handleft in thy discourse, O, that her hand,

In whofe comparison all whites are ink,

Writing

Writing their own reproach; To whofe foft feizure
The cygnet's down is harsh, and spirit of sense
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'st in every gash that love hath given me
The knife that made it.

Pan. I speak no more than truth.

Tro. Thou doft not speak fo much.

Pan. 'Faith, I'll not meddle in't. Let her be as she is : if she be fair, 'tis the better for her; an fhe be not, the has the mends in her own hands.

Tro. 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.

Tro. What, art thou angry, Pandarus? what, with me? Pan. Because she is kin to me, therefore she'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? I care not, an fhe were a black-a-moor; 'tis all one to

me.

Tro. Say I, fhe 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 fo I'll tell her, the next time I fee her: for my part, I'll meddle nor make no more in the matter.

Tro. Pandarus,—

Pan. Not I.

Tro. Sweet Pandarus,

Pan. Pray you, fpeak no more to me; I will leave all as I found it, and there an end.

[Exit PANDARUS. An Alarm.

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