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, I have told you enough of this : Formy pare, I'll not meddle nor make any farther. He that will have a Cake out of the Wheat, must needs : tarey the Grinding.
Troi. Have I not tarried?
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 Over, and the Baking; nay, you must stay the cooling too, or you may chance to burn your Lips.
Troi. Patience her felt, what Goddefs e'er she be,
Troi. I was about to tell thec, when my Heart,
Pan. And her Hair were not somewhat darker than He. len's well-go to, there were no more Comparison between the Women. But for my part she is my Kinfwoman, I would not (as they term it) praise it but I would fóma Body had heard her talk yesterday, as I did : I will not dispraise your Sister Cassandra's Wit, but
Trol. O Pandarus ! I tell thee, Pandarus
Handleft in thy Discourse that! her Hand I.
Thou lay' It iä every gashi that Love hath given me, • The Knife that made it.
Pan. I speak no more than Truth.
Pan. 'Faith, I'll not meddle in'. Let hier bé as me is, if she be fair; 'is the better for her; and the be not, the has the mends in her own hands.
Troi. Good Pandaras; 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 bea tween, but small thanks for my labour. , .
Troi. What art thou angry, Pandars? what, with me?
Pan, Because the is Kinco me, therefore she's not fo fait as Helen; and she were not Kin to me, she would be as fair on Friday, as Helen is on Sunday. But what care I? I care not and she were a Black-a-More, 'tis all one to me.
Troi. Say I, she is not fair?
Par. I do not care whether you do or nó. She's a fool to stay behind her Father : Lét her to the Greeks, and lo I'll tell her the next time I see her: for my part, I'll meddle nor make no more i'ch' matier.
Pan. Pray you speak no more to me, I will leave all as t found it, and there's an end.
Sound Alarim. Troi. Peace, you ungracious Clamours, peace rude Sounds. Fools on both sides, Helen must needs be fair, When with your Blood you daily paint her thusa I cannot fight upon this Argument, It is too starv'da Subject for my Sword : But Pandarts- Gods! how do you plague me ! I cannot come to Crefid, but by Pandarus,
And he's as teachy to be wood to woca son T,
Enter Æneasa iba pa.
Æne. That Paris is returned home, and hurt,
Troi. Let Paris bleed, ’ris but a scar to Scorn.
Ser. Up to the Eastern Tower,
Cre. What was his cause of Angers
Ser. The noise goes this;
Cre, Good; and what of him?
Cre. So do al Men, unless they are drunk, fick, or have no Legs.
Ser. This Man, Lady, hath robb'd many Beasts of their particular Additions, he is as valiant as the Lyon, churlish as the Bear, Now as the Elephant ; a Man into whom Nature hath so crowded Humors, ibat his Valour is crutht into Folly, his Folly Sauced with Discretion: There is no Man hath a Virtue, that he hath not a Glimpse of, - nor any Man, an Attaint, but he carries' fome Stain of it. He is melancholy without Cause, and merry against the Hair; he hath the Joints of every thing, but every thing so out of Joint, that he is a gouty Briareus, many Hands and no ule; or puis blinded Argus, all Eyes and no Sight.
Cre. Bue how should this Min (that makes me smile) make He&tor angry?
Ser. They say, he YeAterday cop'd Hector in the Battel and struck him down, the Difdain and Shame whereof hach ever since kept He&tor fasting and waking.
Pan. Good morrow, Cofin Gresid: what do you talk of? good morrow, Alexander ; how do you, Cousin when were you at Ilium?
Cre. This Morning, Unkle.
Pan. What were you talking of, when I came? Was Heitor arm'd and gone, e're ye came to Ilium? Helen was not up was the ?
Cre. He&tor was gone, but Helen was not up.
bi C fc h
Pan. Was he angry?
Pan. True, he was fo; I know the Caufe too, he'll lam
Cre. Oh Jupiter; there's no comparison.
Pan. What not between Troilas and Hector? do you
Cre. Ay, if I ever saw him before, and knew him,
Cre. Then you fay; as I say,
Pan. No, nor Hector is not Troilus, in some degrees.
Pan. Himself no? he's not himself, would a were hima
Cre. Excuse me.
Pan. Th’other's not come to’t, you shall tell me another
Cré. He shall not need it, if he have his own.
Pan. You have no Judgment, Neice; Heler her self swore
Cre. No, but browns