Music sounds within. Enter Pandarus and a Servant.
PANDARUS.
Friend, you—pray you, a word. Do you not follow the young Lord Paris?
SERVANT.
Ay, sir, when he goes before me.
PANDARUS.
You depend upon him, I mean?
SERVANT.
Sir, I do depend upon the Lord.
PANDARUS.
You depend upon a notable gentleman; I must needs praise him.
SERVANT.
The Lord be praised!
PANDARUS.
You know me, do you not?
SERVANT.
Faith, sir, superficially.
PANDARUS.
Friend, know me better: I am the Lord Pandarus.