He pictures Troilus.
He stands watching as shadows rise, slowly, to cool the walls and towers, and the reddening sun sets on Troy.
Now the London actor playing Pandarus faces the ages’ audience.
May your eyes, half-dim, weep dark at Pandar’s fall!
Or if you cannot weep, yet give some groans—
If not for me, then for your aching bones!
“Brethren and sisters of the hold-door trade,
Some two months hence my will shall be made.
It should be now but that my fear is this:
Some gallèd goose of Winchester”—local whore—“would hiss!
“Till then I’ll sweat, and seek about for eases”—relief from syphilis.
“And at that time—bequeathe you my diseases!”