Tro. Yea, so familiar! Ulyss. She will sing any man at first sight. Ther. And any man may sing her, if he can take her cliff; she's noted. 6. Dio. Will you remember? Cres. Dio. Remember? yes. Nay, but do then ; And let your mind be coupled with your words. Ulyss. List! Cres. Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly. Ther. Roguery! Dio. Nay, then, Cres. I'll tell you what : Dio. Pho! pho! come, tell a pin : You are for Sworn. Cres. In faith, I cannot: What would you have me do? Ther. A juggling trick, to be-secretly open. Dio. What did you swear you would bestow on me? Cres. I pr'ythee, do not hold me to mine oath; Bid me do any thing but that, sweet Greek. Dio. Good night. Tro. Ulyss. Cres. Hold, patience! How now, Trojan? Diomed, Dio. No, no, good night: I'll be your fool no more. Tro. Thy better must. Cres. Hark! one word in your ear. Tro. O plague and madness! Ulyss. You are mov'd, prince; let us depart, I pray you, 6 her cliff,] That is, her key. Clef, French. 12 Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself Ulyss Ulyss. You have not patience; come. Tro. I pray you, stay; by hell, and all hell's Guardian!-why, Greek! Dio. Pho, pho! adieu; you palter.? Cres. In faith, I do not; come hither once again. you go? You will break out. Tro. Ulyss. She strokes his cheek! Come, come. Tro. Nay, stay; by Jove, I will not speak a word: There is between my will and all offences A guard of patience:-stay a little while. Ther. How the devil luxury, with his fat rump, and potatoe finger, tickles these together! Fry, lechery, fry! Dio. But will you then? Cres. In faith, I will, la; never trust me else. palter.] i. e. shuffle, behave with duplicity. Cres. I'll fetch you one. Ulyss. You have sworn patience. Tro. [Exit. Fear me not, my lord; I will not be myself, nor have cognition Re-enter CRESSIDA. 8 Ther. Now the pledge; now, now, now! My lord,- Cres. No matter, now I have't again. I will not meet with you to-morrow night: I pr'ythee, Diomed, visit me no more. . Ther. Now she sharpens ;-Well said, whetstone. Dio. I shall have it. Cres. Dio. What, this? Ay, that. Cres. O, all you gods!-O pretty pretty pledge! Thy master now lies thinking in his bed Of thee, and me; and sighs, and takes my glove, As I kiss thec.-Nay, do not snatch it from me; Cres. You shall not have it, Diomed; 'faith you keep this sleeve.] The custom of wearing a lady's sleeve for a favour, is of ancient date, but the sleeve given in the present instance was the sleeve of Troilus. It may be supposed to be an ornamented cuff, such, perhaps, as was worn by some of our young nobility at a tilt, in Shakspeare's age. |