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ACT ONE
SCENE I. Troy. Before Priam’s palace.
Enter TROILUS armed, and PANDARUS.
TROILUS Call here my varlet; I’ll unarm again.
Why should I war without the walls of Troy
That find such cruel battle here within?
Each Troyan that is master of his heart,
[5]
Let him to field; Troilus, alas, hath none!
PANDARUS Will this gear ne’er be mended?
TROILUS 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,
[10]
Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance,
Less valiant than the virgin in the night,
And skilless as unpractis’d infancy.
[16]
PANDARUS Well, I have told you enough of this; for my part, I’ll not meddle nor make no farther. He that will have a cake out of the wheat must needs tarry the grinding.
TROILUS Have I not tarried?
PANDARUS Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the bolting.
TROILUS Have I not tarried?
[21]
PANDARUS Ay, the bolting; but you must tarry the leavening.
TROILUS Still have I tarried.
[26]
PANDARUS 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.
TROILUS Patience herself, what goddess e’er she be,
Doth lesser blench at suff’rance than I do.
At Priam’s royal table do I sit;
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And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts –
So, traitor, then she comes when she is thence.
PANDARUS Well, she look’d yesternight fairer than ever I saw her look, or any woman else.
TROILUS I was about to tell thee: when my heart,
[35]
As wedged with a sigh, would rive in twain,
Lest Hector or my father should perceive me,
I have, as when the sun doth light a storm,
Buried this sigh in wrinkle of a smile.
But sorrow that is couch’d in seeming gladness
[40]
Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness.
[46]
PANDARUS 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 sister Cassandra’s wit; but –
TROILUS O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus –
When I do tell thee there my hopes lie drown’d,
Reply not in how many fathoms deep
[50]
They lie indrench’d. I tell thee I am mad
In Cressid’s love. Thou answer’st ‘She is fair’ –
Pourest in the open ulcer of my heart –
Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice,
Handiest in thy discourse. O, that her hand,
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In whose comparison all whites are ink
Writing their own reproach; to whose soft seizure
The cygnet’s down is harsh, and spirit of sense
Hard as the palm of ploughman! This thou tell’st me,
As true thou tell’st me, when I say I love her;
[60]
But, saying thus, instead of oil and balm,
Thou lay’st in every gash that love hath given me
The knife that made it.
PANDARUS I speak no more than truth.
TROILUS Thou dost not speak so much.
[67]
PANDARUS Faith, I’ll not meddle in it. Let her be as she is: if she be fair, ’tis the better for her; an she be not, she has the mends in her own hands.
TROILUS Good Pandarus! How now, Pandarus!
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PANDARUS 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.
TROILUS What, art thou angry, Pandarus? What, with me?
[77]
PANDARUS Because she’s kin to me, therefore she’s not so fair as Helen. An she were not kin to me, she would be as fair a Friday as Helen is on Sunday. But what care I? I care not an she were a blackamoor; ’tis all one to me.
TROILUS Say I she is not fair?
[82]
PANDARUS 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 her. For my part, I’ll meddle nor make no more i’ th’ matter.
TROILUS Pandarus!
PANDARUS Not I.
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TROILUS Sweet Pandarus!
PANDARUS Pray you, speak no more to me: I will leave all as I found it, and there an end.
[Exit. Sound alarum.
TROILUS Peace, you ungracious clamours! Peace, rude sounds!
Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair,
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When with your blood you daily paint her thus.
I cannot fight upon this argument;
It is too starv’d a subject for my sword.
But Pandarus – O gods, how do you plague me!
I cannot come to Cressid but by Pandar;
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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;
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Between our Ilium and where she resides
Let it be call’d the wild and wand’ring flood;
Ourself the merchant, and this sailing Pandar
Our doubtful hope, our convoy, and our bark.
Alarum. Enter AENEAS.
AENEAS How now, Prince Troilus! Wherefore not afield?
[105]
TROILUS Because not there. This woman’s answer sorts,
For womanish it is to be from thence.
What news, Aeneas, from the field to-day?
AENEAS That Paris is returned home, and hurt.
TROILUS By whom, Aeneas?
AENEAS Troilus, by Menelaus.
[110]
TROILUS Let Paris bleed: ’tis but a scar to scorn;
Paris is gor’d with Menelaus’ horn. [Alarum.
AENEAS Hark what good sport is out of town to-day!
TROILUS Better at home, if ‘would I might’ were ‘may’.
But to the sport abroad. Are you bound thither?
[115]
AENEAS In all swift haste.
TROILUS Come, go we then together.
[Exeunt.
SC...
