Why should I war without the walls of Troy

That find such cruel battle here within?

Each Trojan that is master of his heart,

Let him to Betd—Troitus, 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,

Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance,

Less valiant than the virgin in the night,

And skilless as unpractised infancy.

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 tarry the grinding.

TROILUS Have I not tarried?

PANDARUS Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the boulting.

TROILUS Have I not tarried?

PANDARUS Ay, the boulting; but you must tarry the leavening.

TROILUS Still have I tarried.

PANDARUS Ay, to the leavening; but here’s yet in the word ‘hereafter’ the kneading, the making of the cake, the heating the oven, and the baking—nay, you must stay the cooling too, or ye may chance 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

And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts—

So, traitor! ‘When she comes’? When is she thence?

PANDARUS Well, she looked yesternight fairer than ever I saw her look, or any woman else.

TROILUS

I was about to tell thee: when my heart,

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 askance,

Buried this sigh in wrinkle of a smile.

But sorrow that is couched in seeming gladness

Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness.

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 drowned’,

Reply not in how many fathoms deep

They lie endrenched. 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;

Handlest in thy discourse, O, that her hand,

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.

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.

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!

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?

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 o’ 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?

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.

TROILUS Sweet Pandarus—

PANDARUS Pray you, speak no more to me. I will leave all as I found it. And there an end.

Exit

Alarum

TROILUS

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 upon this argument.

It is too starved 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 wooed 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 called the wild and wand’ring flood,

Ourself the merchant, and this sailing Pandar

Our doubtful hope, our convoy, and our barque.

Alarum. Enter Aeneas

AENEAS

How now, Prince Troilus? Wherefore not afield?

TROILUS

Because not there. This woman’s answer sorts,

For womanish it is to be from thence.

What news, Aeneas, from the field today?

AENEAS

That Paris is returned home, and hurt.

TROILUS

By whom, Aeneas?

AENEAS Troilus, by Menelaus.

TROILUS

Let Paris bleed, ’tis but a scar to scorn:

Paris is gored with Menelaus’ horn.

Alarum

AENEAS

Hark what good sport is out of town today.

TROILUS

Better at home, if ‘would I might’ were ‘may’.

But to the sport abroad—are you bound thither?

AENEAS

In all swift haste.

TROILUS Come, go we then together. Exeunt

1.2 Enter ⌈above⌉ Cressida and her servant Alexander

CRESSIDA

Who were those went by?

ALEXANDER Queen Hecuba and Helen.

CRESSIDA

And whither go they?

ALEXANDER Up to the eastern tower,

Whose height commands as subject all the vale,

To see the battle. Hector, whose patience