Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Tro. But Pandarus: O Gods! How do you plague me?
Tro. I cannot come to Cressid but by Pandar,
Tro. And he's as teachy to be woo'd to woe,
Tro. As she is stubborne, chast, against all suite.
Tro. Tell me Appollo for thy Daphnes Loue
Tro. What Cressid is, what Pandar, and what we:
Tro. Her bed is India, there she lies, a Pearle,
Tro. Between our Ilium, and where shee recides
Tro. Let it be cald the wild and wandring flood,
Tro. Our selfe the Merchant, and this sayling Pandar,
Tro. Our doubtfull hope, our conuoy and our Barke.
Tro. Alarum.
Tro. Enter Æneas.
Æne. Æne.
Æne. How now Prince Troylus?
Æne. Wherefore not a field?
Troy. Troy.
Troy. Because not there; this womans answer sorts.
Troy. For womanish it is to from thence:
Troy. What newes Æneas from the field to day?