Dio. Ay, that.

Cre. O, all you gods!-O pretty pretty pledge! Thy mafter now lies thinking in his bed

Of thee, and me; and fighs, and takes my glove, And gives memorial dainty kiffes to it,

As I kifs thee.-Nay, do not fnatch it from me ; He, that takes that, must take my heart withal. Dio. I had your heart before, this follows it. Troi. I did fwear patience.

Cre. You fhall not have it, Diomed; 'faith you I'll give you fomething else.

[fhall not;

Dio. I will have this; Whofe was it?

Cre. It is no matter.

Dio. Come, tell me whofe it was?

Cre. 'Twas one's that lov'd me better than you But, now you have it, take it.

Dio. Whofe was it?

[will.

Cre. By all Diana's waiting-women yonder, And by herself, I will not tell you whose.

Dio. To-morrow will I wear it on my helm; And grieve his fpirit, that dares not challenge it. Troi. Wer't thou the devil, and wor'st it on thy It should be challeng'd.

[horn, Cre. Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis paft ;-And yet it

I will not keep my word.

Dio. Why then, farewell;

Thou never fhalt mock Diomed again.

[is not;

Gre. You fhall not go :-One cannot fpeak a word,

But it ftraight starts you.

Dio. I do not like this fooling.

Ther. Nor I, by Pluto: but that that likes not you, Pleases me beft.

Dio. What, fhall I come? the hour?

Cre. Ay, come:-O Jove!

Do

Do, come :-I fhall be plagu❜d.

Dio. Farewell 'till then.

[Exit

Cre. Good night. I pr'ythee, come.Troilus, farewell! one eye yet looks on thee; But with my heart the other eye doth fee.Ah! poor our fex! this fault in us I find, The error of our eye directs our mind: What error leads, muft err; O then conclude, Minds, fway'd by eyes, are full of turpitude. [Exit. Ther. A proof of strength she could not publish

more,

Unless fhe fay, My mind is now turn'd whore.
Uly. All's done, my lord.

Troi. It is.

Uly. Why ftay we then?

Troi. To make a recordation to my foul
Of every fyllable that here was spoke.
But, if I tell how these two did co-act,
Shall I not lie in publishing a truth?
Sith yet there is a credence in my heart,
An esperance fo obftinately ftrong,

That doth invert the atteft of eyes and ears;
As if thofe organs had deceptious functions,
Created only to calumniate.

Was Creffid here?

Ulyff. I cannot conjure, Trojan.
Troi. She was not, fure.

Ulyff. Moft fure, fhe was.

Troi. Why my negation hath no taste of madness. Uly.Nor mine, my lord: Creffid was here but now. Troi. Let it not be believ'd for womanhood! Think, we had mothers; do not give advantage To ftubborn criticks-apt, without a theme, For depravation-to fquare the general fex

By

By Creffid's rule: rather think this not Creffid. Ul. What hath the done, prince, that can foil our mothers?

Troi. Nothing at all, unless that this were the. Ther. Will he fwagger himfelf out on's own eyes? Troi. This fhe? no, this is Diomed's Creffida: If beauty have a foul, this is not fhe;

If fouls guide vows, if vows be fanctimony,
If fanctimony be the gods' delight,
If there be rule in unity itself,

This is not the. O madness of difcourfe,
That caufe fets up with and against itself!
Bi-fold authority! where reafon can revolt
Without perdition, and lofs affume all reason
Without revolt; this is, and is not, Creffid!
Within my foul there doth commence a fight
Of this ftrange nature, that a thing infeparate
Divides far wider than the sky and earth;
And yet the fpacious breadth of this divifion
Admits no orifice for a point, as fubtle
As Arachne's broken woof, to enter.
Inftance, O inftance! ftrong as Pluto's gates;
Creffid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven:
Inftance, O inftance! ftrong as heaven itself;
The bonds of heaven are flipp'd, diffolv'd, and loos'd;
And with another knot, five-finger-tied,
The fractions of her faith, orts of her love,
The fragments, fcraps, the bits, and greafy reliques
Of her o'er-eaten faith, are bound to Diomed.
Uly. May worthy Troilus be half attach'd
With that which here his paffion doth exprefs?
Troi. Ay, Greek; and that fhall be divulged well
In characters as red as Mars his heart
Inflam'd with Venus: never did young man fancy

With fo eternal, and so fix'd a soul.

Hark, Greek ;-As much as I do Creffid love, So much by weight hate I her Diomed:

That fleeve is mine, that he'll bear on his helm;
Were it a cafque compos'd by Vulcan's skill,
My fword fhould bite it: not the dreadful spout,
Which shipmen do the hurricano call,
Conftring'd in mass by the almighty fun,
Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptune's ear
In his defcent, than fhall my prompted fword
Falling on Diomed.

Ther. He'll tickle it for his concupy.

Troi. O Creffid! O falfe Creffid! false, false, false! Let all untruths ftand by thy stained name, And they'll seem glorious.

Uly O, contain yourself; Your paffion draws ears hither.

Enter ENEAS.

Ene. I have been seeking you this hour, my lord: Hector, by this, is arming him in Troy; Ajax, your guard, ftays to conduct you home. Troi. Have with you, prince:-My courteous lord, Farewell, revolted fair!-and, Diomed, [adieu :-Stand fast, and wear a castle on thy head! Uly. I'll bring you to the gates. Troi. Accept distracted thanks.

[Exeunt TROILUS, ENEAS, and ULYSSES.

Ther. 'Would, I could meet that rogue Diomed! I would croak like a raven; I would bode, I would bode. Patroclus will give me any thing for the intelligence of this whore: the parrot will not do more for an almond, than he for a commodious drab.. Lechery, lechery; ftill, wars and lechery;

nothing

nothing else holds fashion: A burning devil take

them!

SCENE III. The Palace of Troy.

Enter HECTOR, and ANDROMACHE.

[Exit.

And. When was my lord fo much ungently temTo ftop his ears against admonishment?

Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to-day.

[per'd,

Hect. You train me to offend you; get you in: By all the everlasting gods, I'll go.

And. My dreams will, fure, prove ominous to-day. Hect. No more, I fay.

Enter CASSANDRA.

Caf. Where is my brother Hector?

And. Here, fifter; arm'd, and bloody in intent; Confort with me in loud and dear petition, Pursue we him on knees; for I have dreamt Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of flaughter. Caf. O, it is true.

Hect. Ho! bid my trumpet found!

Caf. No notes of fally for the heavens, sweet bro

ther.

Hect. Begone, Ifay: the gods have heard me fwear. Caf. The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows; They are polluted offerings, more abhorr'd Than fpotted livers in the facrifice.

And. O! be perfuaded: Do not count it holy To hurt by being juft: it is as lawful,

For us to count we give what's gain'd by thefts, And rob in the behalf of charity.

Caf. It is the purpofe, that makes ftrong the vow;

But