Ther. How the Devil Luxury with his fat Rump, and Potato Finger, tickles thefe together: Fry, Letchery, fry.

Dio. But will you then?

Cre. In Faith I will come; never truft me else.

Dio. Give me fome token for the furety of it.
Cre. I'll fetch you one.

Vlyf. You have fworn patience.
Troi. Fear me not, fweet Lord,

I will not be my felf, nor have cognition
Of what I feel: I am all Patience..

Enter Creffida.

Ther. Now the Pledge, now, now, now.
Cre. Here, Diomede, keep this Sleeve.
Troi. O Beauty! where is thy Faith?
Vlyf. My Lord.

Troi. I will be patient, outwardly I will.
Cre. You look upon that Sleeve; behold it well:-
He lov'd me :-O falfe Wench:-Give't me again.
Dio. Whofe was't?

Cre. It is no matter now I have't again,
I will not meet with you to morrow Night:
I prithee, Diomede, vifit me no more.

Ther. Now the fharpens: well faid Whetstone.
Dio. I fhall have it.

Cre. What, this?

Dio, Ay, that.

Cre. O all you Gods-O pretty, pretty Pledge;
Thy Mafter now lyes 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.

Dio. Nay, do not fnatch it from me.

Cre. He that takes that, takes my Heart withal.'
Dio. I had your Heart before, this follows it.

Troi. I did fwear Patience.

[Exit.

Cre. You fhall not have it, Diomede: 'Faith you fhall not,

I'll give you fomething elfe.

Dio. I will have this: Whofe was it?

Cre. It is no matter.

VOL IV.

A a

Dio.

Dio. Come tell me whofe it was?

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

Dio. Whofe was it?

Cre. By all Diana's Waiting-women yonder, And by her felf, I will not tell you whole.

Dio. To morrow will I wear it on my Helm, And grieve his Spirit that dares not challenge it.

Troi. Wert thou the Devil, and wor'ft it on thy Horn,

It should be challeng'd.

Cre. Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis past; and yet it is not I will not keep my word.

Dio. Why then farewel,

Thou never fhalt mock Diomede again.

Cre. You shall not go;-one cannot speak a word, But it ftraight ftarts you.

Dio. I do not like this fooling.

Ther. Nor I, by Pluto: But that that likes not me, plea fes me best.

Dio. What, fhall I come? the hour.

Cre. Ay, come:-O Jovel-do, come:---I fhall be plagu❜d.

Dio. Farewel 'till then.

Cre. Good Night: I prithee come :

Troilus, farewel; one Eye yet looks on thee,
But with my Heart, the other Eyes doth fee-
Ah poor our Sex; this fault in us I find,
The error of our Eye, directs our Mind.

[Exit.

What Error leads, muft err: O then conclude,

Minds fway'd by Eyes, are full of turpitude.

[Exit.

Ther. A proof of ftrength fhe could not publish more;

Unless the fay, my Mind is now turn'd Whore.

Vlyf. All's done, my Lord,

Troi. It is.

Ulys. Why ftay we then?

Troi. To make a recordation to my Soul,
Of every Syllable that here was spoke :
But if I tell how thefe two did co-act,
Shall I not lie in publishing a Truth ?
Sith

yer there is a credence in my Heart, An elperance fo obftinately flrong.

That

That doth invert that teft of Eyes and Ears;
As if those Organs had deceptious Functions,
Created only to calumniate.

Was Crefid here ?

Vlyf. I cannot conjure, Trojan.

Troi. She was not fure.

Ulf. Moft fure fhe was.

Trei. Why, my Negation hath no taste of Madness. Vlyf. Nor mine, my Lord: Crefid was here but now. Troi. Let it not be believ'd for Woman-hood: Think we had Mothers; do not give advantage To ftubborn Criticks, apt without a Theme For depravation, to fquare the general Sex By Creffid's Rule. Rather think this not Cresid.

Ulys. What hath the done, Prince, that can foil our Mōthers?

Troi. Nothing at all, unless that this were the

Ther. Will he fwagger himfelf out on's own Eyes?
Troi. This he? no, this is Diomede's Creffid:

If Beauty have a Soul, this is not fhe :

If Souls guide Vows, if Vows are Sanctimony,
If Sanctimony be the Gods delight,

If there be Rule in Unity it felf,

This is not fhe. O madness of Difcourfe!
That Cause sets up,. with and againft thy felf,
By foul Authority; where Reafon can revolt
Without Perdition, and Lofs affume all Reafon,
Without Revolt. This is, and is not Creffid.
Within my Soul, there doth commence a fight
Of this ftrange Nature, that a thing infeparate
Divides more wider than the Sky and Earth,
And yet the fpacious breadth of this Divifion
Admits no Orifice for a point, as subtle
As Ariachne's broken woof, to enter;
Inftance, O inftance! ftrong as Pluto's Gates ;
Creffid is mine, tied with the Bonds of Heav'n;
Inftance, O inftance ! ftrong as Heav'n it felf;
The Bonds of Heav'n are flip'd, diffolv'd and loos'd,
And with another Knot five finger'd tied :
The fractions of her faith, orts of her Love,
A a 2

The

The fragments, fcraps, the bits, and greafie Reliques,
Of her o'er-eaten Faith, are bound to Diomede.
Uly May worthy Troilus be half attach'd
With that which here his Paffion doth express?
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 fo fix'd a Soul-

Hak, Greek, as much as I do Creffida love,
So much by weight hate I her Diomede:
That Sleeve is mine, that he'll bear in his Helm:
Were it a Cask compos'd by Vulcan's Skill,
My Sword should bite it: Not the dreadful Spout,
Which Ship-men do the Hurricano call,
Conftring'd in Mafs by the Almighty Finger
Shall dizzy with more Clamour Neptune's Ear
In his descent, than fhall my prompted Sword
Falling on Diomede.

Ther. He'll tickle it for his Concupy.

Troi. O Creffid! O falfe Creffid! falfe, false, false! Let all Untruths stand by thy stained Name,

And they'll feem glorious.

Vlyf. O contain your felf:

Your Paffion draws Ears hither.

Enter Æneas.

Ane. 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,

adieu.

Farewel; revolted fair: and, Diomede,

Stand faft, and wear a Caftle on thy Head.

Vlyf. I'll bring you to the Gates.

Troi. Accept distracted Thanks.

[Exeunt Troilus, neas, and Ulyffes..

Ther. Would I could meet that Rogue Diomede, I would Croak like a Raven: I would bode, I would bode: Patroclus will give me any thing for the intelligence of this

Whore:

Whore

The Parrot will not do more for an Almond, than he for a commodious Drab: Letchery, Letchery, ftill Wars and Letchery, nothing else holds fafhion. A burning Devil take them.

[Exit.

Enter Hector and Andromache.

And. When was my Lord fo much ungently temper'd, To ftop his Ears against admonishment?

Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to day.

Hect. You train me to offend you; get you gone. By the everlafting Gods, I'll go..

Andr. My Dreams will fure prove ominous to the day. Hect. No more, I fay.

Enter Caffandra.

Caf. Where is my Brother Hector?

Andr. Here Sifter, 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 fhapes and forms of Slaughter.
Caf. O, 'tis true.

Heat, Ho! bid my Trumpet found.

Caf. No Notes of fally, for the Heav'ns, fweet Brother. Hect. Be gone, I fay: The Gods have heard me (wear. Caf. The Gods are deaf to hot and peevish Vows; They are polluted Offerings, more abhorr'd

Than fpotted Livers in the Sacrifice.

Andr. O, be perfwaded, do not count it holy,

To hurt by being juft; it were 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 purpose that makes ftrong the Vow;
But Vows to every purpose muft not hold:
Unarm, fweet Hector.

Hect. Hold you still, I say;

Mine Honour keeps the weather of my Fate;