[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 Trojan 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 unpractised infancy.

Pandarus. 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 needs tarry the grinding.

Troilus. Have I not tarried?

Pandarus. Ay, the grinding;