SCENE I. Troy. Before Priam’s palace.
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 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 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.