The like allayment could I give my grief:
My love admits no qualifying drofs;

Enter Troilus.

No more my grief, in fuch a precious loss.

Pan. Here, here, here he coines!-ah fweet ducks! Cre. O Troilus! Troilus!

Pan. What a pair of fpectacles is here! let me embrace too:

Oh beart! (as the goodly faying is)
O heart! O heavy heart!

Why fight thou without breaking? here he anfwers again;

Because thou can't not ease thy fmart,

By friendship, nor by Speaking.

There was never a truer rhyme. Let us caft away nothing, for we may live to have need of fuch a verse. We fee it, we fee it. How now, lambs?

Troi. Creffid, I love thee in fo 2 ftrain'd a purity,
That the bleft gods-as angry with my fancy,
More bright in zeal than the devotion which
Cold lips blow to their deities-take thee from me.
Cre. Have the gods envy?

Pan. Ay, ay, ay, ay, it is too plain a cafe.
Cre. And is it true that I must go from Troy?

Troi. A hateful truth.

Cre. What, and from Troilus too?

Troi. From Troy, and Troilus.
Cre. Is it poffible?

Trci. And fuddenly; where injury of chance

Puts back leave-taking, juftles roughly by
All time of paufe, rudely beguiles our lips
Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents

Our lock'd embrafures, ftrangles our dear vows,
Even in the birth of our own labouring breath.

2

frain'd] So the quarto. The folio and all the moderns have frange. JOHNSON.

We

We two, that with fo many thousand fighs
Did buy each other, muft poorly fell ourselves
With the rude brevity and discharge of one.
Injurious time now, with a robber's haste,
Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how.
As many farewells as be stars in heaven,
With diftinct breath and confign'd kiffes to them,
He fumbles up into a loose adieu;

And scants us with a fingle famifh'd kiss,
Distasted with the falt of broken tears.

Eneas within.] My lord! is the lady ready? Troi. Hark! you are call'd. Some fay the genius fo Cries, come! to him that inftantly muft die.Bid them have patience; fhe fhall come anon.

Pan. Where are my tears? rain, to lay this wind, Or my heart will be blown up by the root. [Exit Pan. Cre. I must then to the Grecians?

Troi. No remedy.

Cre. A woeful Creffid 'mongst the merry

When shall we see again?

Greeks!

Troi. Hear me, my love-Be thou but true of

heart

Cre. I true! how now? what wicked deem is this?
Troi. Nay, we must use expoftulation kindly,
For it is parting from us:

I fpeak not, be thou true, as fearing thee;
3 For I will throw my glove to death himself,
That there's no maculation in thy heart;
But, be thou true, fay I, to fashion in

My fequent proteftation: be thou true,
And I will fee thee.

Cre. O, you shall be expos'd, my lord, to dangers As infinite, as imminent! But, I'll be true.

Troi, And I'll grow friend with danger. Wear this fleeve.

3 For I will throw my glove to death-] That is, I will challenge death himself in defence of thy fidelity. JOHNSON. G 3

Cre.

Cre. And you this glove. When shall I fee you? Trei. I will corrupt the Grecian centinels.

To give thee nightly vifitation.

But yet, be true.

Cre. O heavens!-be true again?

Troi. Hear why I fpeak it, love.

The Grecian youths are full of quality,

They are loving, well compos'd, with gifts of nature Flowing, and fwelling o'er with arts and exercise; How novelties may move, and parts 4 with perfon, Alas, a kind of godly jealoufy,

(Which, I befeech you, call a virtuous fin) Makes me affeard.

Cre. O heavens, you love mé not!

Troi. Die I a villain then!

In this, I do not call your faith in question
So mainly as my merit. I cannot fing,
Nor heel the high lavolt, nor sweeten talk,
Nor play at fubtle games; fair virtues all,
To which the Grecians are most prompt and pregnant,
But I can tell, that in each grace of thefe
There lurks a fill and dumb-difcourfive devil,
That tempts moft cunningly. But be not tempted,
Cre. Do you think I will?

Troi. No.

But fomething may be done, that we will not:
And fometimes we are devils to ourselves,
When we will tempt the frailty of our powers,
Prefuming on their changeful potency.
Eneas within.] Nay, good my lord!
Troi. Come, kifs, and let us part.
Paris within.] Brother Troilus!

Troi. Good brother, come you hither;

And bring Æneas, and the Grecian, with you.
Cre. My lord, will you be true?

4

with perfon,1 Thus the folio, The quarto reads,

with portion, STEEVENS.

Troi. Who I? alas, it is my vice, my fault; While others fish, with craft, for great opinion, I, with great truth, 5 catch mere fimplicity. While fome with cunning gild their copper crowns, With truth and plainnefs I do wear mine bare. Fear not my truth; 6 the moral of my wit Is, plain and true, there's all the reach of it.

Enter Eneas, Paris, and Diomed.

Welcome, Sir Diomed! here is the lady,
Whom for Antenor we deliver you:-
At the port, lord, I'll give her to thy hand,
And by the way 7 poffefs thee what he is.
Entreat her fair; and by my foul, fair Greek,
If e'er thou ftand at mercy of my fword,
Name Creffid, and thy life fhall be as fafe
As Priam is in Ilion.

Dio. Fair lady Creffid,

So please you, fave the thanks this prince expects :
The luftre in your eye, heaven in your cheek,
Pleads your fair ufage; and to Diomed

You fhall be miftrefs, and command him wholly.
Troi. Grecian, thou doft not use me courteously,
To shame the zeal of my petition to thee,
In praifing her. I tell thee, lord of Greece,

She

catch mere fimplicity.] The meaning, I think, is, while others, by their art, gain high estimation, I, by honefty, obtain a plain fimple approbation. JOHNSON.

the moral of my wit

Is, plain and true,] That is, the governing principle of my understanding; but I rather think we should read,

the motto of my wit

Is, plain and true,

7

JOHNSON.

poffefs thee what he is.] I will make thee fully underftand. This fenfe of the word poffefs is frequent in our author.

JOHNSON.

To fhame the SEAL of my petition towards thee,
By praifing her. - To fame the feal of a petition is

nonfenfe. Shakespeare wrote,

To fhame the ZEAL

She is as far high-foaring o'er thy praises,
As thou unworthy to be call'd her fervant.
I charge thee, ufe her well, even for my charge:
For, by the dreadful Pluto, if thou doft not,
Tho' the great bulk Achilles be thy guard,
I'll cut thy throat.

Dio. Oh, be not mov'd, prince Troilus.
Let me be privileg'd by my place and message,
To be a fpeaker free; when I am hence,
I'll answer to 9 my lift; and know, my lord,
I'll nothing do on charge: to her own worth
She fhall be priz'd; but that you say, be't fo;
I'll speak it in my spirit and honour—no.

Troi. Come-To the port.-I'll tell thee, Diomed,
This brave fhall oft make thee to hide thy head.
Lady, give me your hand; and, as we walk,
To our own felves bend we our needful talk.

[Exeunt. Sound trumpet. Par. Hark! Hector's trumpet!

Ene. How have we fpent this morning? The prince muft think me tardy and remifs, That fwore to ride before him in the field.

Par. 'Tis Troilus' fault. Come, come, to field with him.

Dio. Let us make ready ftrait.

10 Ene. Yea, with a bridegroom's fresh alacrity Let us addreis to tend on Hector's heels:

The glory of our Troy doth this day lie
On his fair worth, and fingle chivalry.

[Exeunt.

and the fenfe is this: Grecian, you ufe me difcourteously; you fce, I am a paffionate lover, by my petition to you; and therefore you fhould not fhame the zeal of it, by promifing to do what I require of you, for the fake of her beauty: when, if you had good manners, or a fenfe of a lover's delicacy, you would have promifed to do it, in companion to his pangs and Jufferings. WARBURTON.

9

my lift This, I think, is right, though both the old copies read luft. JOHNSON.

10

Eneas.] Thefe four lines are not in the quarto, being probably added at the revifion. JOHNSON,

SCENE