With that which here his passion doth express?
Tro. Ay,Greek; and that shall be divulged well
In characters as red as Mars his heart
Inflam'd with Venus: never did young man
fancy 2

With so eternal and so fix'd a soul.

Hark, Greek:-as much as I do Cressid love,
So much by weight hate I her Diomed:
That sleeve is mine that he 'll bear on his helm;
Were it a casque compos'd by Vulcan's skill,
My sword should bite it: not the dreadful
spout,

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Which shipmen do the hurricano call, Constring'd3 in mass by the almighty sun, Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptune's ear In his descent than shall my prompted sword Falling on Diomed.

[Ther. He'll tickle it for his concupy.4] Tro. O Cressid! O false Cressid! false, false, false!

Let all untruths stand by thy stained name,
And they'll seem glorious.
Ulyss.

O, contain yourself; Your passion draws ears hither.

Enter ENEAS.

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Ho! bid my trumpet sound! Cas. No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet brother.

Hect. Be gone, I say: the gods have heard

me swear.

Cas. The gods are deaf to hot and peevish

VOWS:

They are polluted offerings, more abhorr'd Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.

20

And. O, be persuaded! do not count it holy To hurt by being just: it is as lawful, Fors we would give much, to use violent thefts, And rob in the behalf of charity.

Cas. It is the purpose that makes strong

And. Cassandra, call my father to persuade. [Exit Cassandra.

Hect. No, faith, young Troilus; doff thy harness, youth;

I am to-day i' the vein of chivalry:
Let grow thy sinews till their knots be strong,
And tempt not yet the brushes of the war.
Unarm thee, go; and doubt thou not, brave boy,
I'll stand to-day for thee, and me, and Troy.

Tro. Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you, Which better fits a lion than a man.

Hect. What vice is that, good Troilus? chide me for it.

Tro. When many times the captive Grecians fall,

40

Æneas is a-field; And I do stand engag'd2 to many Greeks, Even in the faith of valour, to appear

This morning to them.

Pri.

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Ay, but thou shalt not go. Hect. I must not break my faith. You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sir, Let me not shame respect; but give me leave To take that course by your consent and voice, Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam. Cas. O Priam, yield not to him! And.

Do not, dear father. Hect. Andromache, I am offended with you: Upon the love you bear me, get you in.

[Exit Andromache. Tro. This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl Makes all these bodements.

Cas. O, farewell, dear Hector! Look, how thou diest! look, how thy eye turns pale!

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Look, how thy wounds do bleed at many vents!
Hark, how Troy roars! how Hecuba cries out!
How poor Andromache shrills her dolours forth!
Behold, distraction, frenzy, and amazement,
Like witless antics, one another meet,
And all cry "Hector! Hector's dead!" 0
Hector!