TROILUS and CRESSIDA.

In Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of Greece
The princes orgillous, their high blood chaf'd,
Have to the port of Athens fent their ships
Fraught with the ministers and instruments
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 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 warlike fraughtage: Now on Dardan plains
The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch
Their brave pavilions: Priam's fix-gated city
(Dardan, and Thymbria, Ilias, Chetas, Troyan,
And Antenoridas), with massy staples,
And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts,
Sperrs up the fons of Troy.

Now expectation, tickling skittish fpirits,
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 d'er the vaunt and firstlings of those broits,
'Ginning 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.

HELEN, Wife to Menelaus.

ANDROMACHE, Wife to Hector.

CASSANDRA, Daughter to Priam, a Prophetess:
CRESSIDA, Daughter to Calchas.

ALEXANDER, Creffida's Servant.
Boy, Page to Troilus.

Servant to Diomedes.

Trojan and Greek Soldiers, with other Attendants. SCENE, Troy, and the Grecian Camp before it.

ACT I.

SCENE I. Troy. PRIAM's Palace.
Enter PANDARUS, and TROILUS.

Troilus.

ALL here my varlet, I'll unarm again:
Why fhould I war without the walls of Troy,

CA

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 gear ne'er be mended?

Troi. The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their
ftrength,

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.

Trai. Have I not tarry'd?

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

Troi. Have I not tarry'd?

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

A 3

Troi.