In Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of Greece

          The princes orgillous, their high blood chaf'd,

          Have to the port of Athens sent their ships

          Fraught with the ministers and instruments

          Of cruel war. Sixty and nine that wore

          Their crownets regal from th' Athenian bay

          Put forth toward Phrygia; and their vow is made

          To ransack Troy, within whose strong immures

          The ravish'd Helen, Menelaus' queen,

          With wanton Paris sleeps-and that's the quarrel.

          To Tenedos they come,

          And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge

          Their war-like fraughtage. Now on Dardan plains

          The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch

          Their brave pavilions: Priam's six-gated city,

          Dardan, and Tymbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien,

          And Antenorides, with massy staples

          And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts,

          Sperr up the sons of Troy.

          Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits

          On one and other side, Troyan 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 suited

          In like conditions as our argument,

          To tell you, fair beholders, that our play

          Leaps o'er the vaunt and firstlings of those broils,

          Beginning in the middle; starting thence away,

          To what may be digested in a play.

          Like or find fault; do as your pleasures are;

          Now good or bad, 'tis but the chance of war.

        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,

          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,

          Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance,

          Less valiant than the virgin in the night,

          And skilless as unpractis'd 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 needs tarry the grinding.

        TROILUS. Have I not tarried?

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

        TROILUS. Have I not tarried?

        PANDARUS. Ay, the bolting; 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

          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;

          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,

          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

          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 drown'd,

          Reply not in how many fathoms deep

          They