HELEN, Wife to Menelaus, in Love with Paris. CASSANDRA, Daughter to Priam, a Prophetess. Bay, Page to Troilus. Trojan and Greek Soldiers, with other Attendants. The Story originally written by Lollius an old Lombard Author, and fince by Chaucer. It is alfo found in an old English Story-book of the three deftructions of Troy, from which many of the circumstances in this Play are borrow'd, they being to be found no where effe. Troilus Priam's Palace within the walls of Troy, but fuppofed to bave a fituation a little diftant from the rest of the City. Enter Pandarus and Troilus. Troi. C ALL here my varlet, 'unarm again. Why fhould I war without the walls of Troy, Each Trojan that is mafter of his heart, Troi, The Greeks are ftrong, and skilful to their strength, But I am weaker than a woman's tear, Tamer than fleep, fonder than ignorance ; 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, muft tarry the grinding. Troi. Have I not tarried? Before this Play of Troilus and Creda printed in 16c9 is a Bookfeller's preface, fhewing that first impreffion to have been before the Play had been acted, and that it was publifhed without Shakespear's knowledge from a copy that had fallen into the Bookfeller's hands. Mr. Dryden thinks this one of the firft of our Author's Plays: But on the contrary, it may be judg' from the foremention'd Preface that it was one of his laft; and the great number of obfervations, both moral and politick, (with which this piece is crowded more than any other of his) feems to confirm that opinion. N. 2 Pan. Pan. Ay, the grinding; but you muft tarry the boulting. Pan. Ay, the boulting; but you must tarry the leav'ning. 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 flay the cooling too, or you may chance to burn your lips. Troi. Patience her felf, what Goddess e'er the be, Doth not lefs blench at fufferance than I do : At Priam's royal table I do fit ; And when fair Creffid comes into my thoughts,- Troi. I was about to tell thee, when my heart But forrow, that is couch'd in feeming gladness, "Pan. An her hair were not fomewhat darker than He len's-well, go to, there were no more comparison between the women. But for my part fhe is my kinfwoman, I would not (as they term it) praise her but I would fomebody had heard her talk yefterday, as I did: I will not difpraife your fifter Caffandra's wit, but Troi. O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus When I do tell thee, there my hopes lye drown'd, They lye indrench'd. I tell thee, I am mad In Crefid's love thou answer'ft, fhe is fair; Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gate, her voice; In whofe comparison, all whites are ink Writing their own reproach, to whose soft seizure As As true thou tell'ft me, when I fay I love her : Pan. I fpeak no more than truth. Troi. Thou doft not speak fo much. Pan. 'Faith, I'll not meddle in't. Let her be as the is, if the be fair, 'tis the better for her; an fhe be not, she 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. Becaufe fhe 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. But what care I I care not an fhe were a black-a-moor, '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'il 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 fpeak 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, It is too ftarv'd a fubject for my fword: But Pandarus O Gods! how do you plague me! He Her bed is India, there the lyes a pearl ; [Alarum.] II. ne. How now, Prince Troilus? wherefore not i'th'field! Troi. Because not there; this woman's answer forts, For womanish it is to be from thence: What news, Eneas, from the field to-day? Ene. That Paris is returned home, and hurt. ne. Troilus, by Menelaus. Troi. Let Paris bleed,, 'tis but a fear to fcorn, Paris is gor'd with Menelaus' horn. [Alarum. ne. 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 fport abroad ne. In all fwift hafte. Troi. Come, go we then together. [Exeunte SCENE III. Between the Palace and the City. Ser. Queen Hecuba and Helen. Ser. Up to th' eastern tower, Whofe height commands as fùbject all the vale, 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. Cre |