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he wears his tongue in's arms. I will put on his presence;. let Patroclus make his demands to me, you shall see the Pageant of Ajax.

Achil. To him, Patroclus—tell him, I humbly defire the valiant Ajax, to invite the most valorous Hector to come unarm'd to my tent, and to procure safe Conduct for his Person of the magnanimous and moft illustrious, fix or seven times honour'd, captain general, of the Grecian army, Agamemnon, óc. Do this.

Pat. Jove bless great Ajax !
Ther. Hum
Pat. I come from the worthy Achilles.
Ther. Ha!

Pat. Who most humbly desires you to invite Hefior to his Tent.

Ther. Hum-
Pat. And to procure safe Conduct from Agamemnon


Ther. Agamemnon !
Pat. Ay, my lord.
Ther. Ha!
Pat. What say you to't?
Ther. God be wi'you, with all my heart.
Pat. Your anfwer, Sir.

Ther. If toomorrow be a fair day, by eleven o'clock it will go one way or other; howsoever, he shall pay for me ere he has me.

Pat. Your answer, Sir.
Ther. Fare ye well with all my heart.
Achil. Why, but he is not in this tune, is he?

Ther. No, but he's out o'tune thus; what music will be in him, when Hector has knock'd out his brains, I know not. But, I am sure, none; unless the fidler Apollo get his finews to make Catlings on.

Achil. Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight.

Ther. Let me carry another to his horse; for that's the more capable creature.

Achil. My mind is troubled like a fountain stirr'd, And I myself fee not the bottom of it. Exit.

Ther. 'Would the fountain of your mind were clear again, that I might water an ass at it! I had rather be a rick in a sheep, than such a valiant ignorance. (Exe.


: I.

A Street in TROY.

Enter at one door Eneas, with a torch; at another, Paris,

Deiphobus, Antenor, and Diomede; Grecians, with Torches.

P A R I S.

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E E, ho! who is that there?

Dei. It is the lord Æneas.
Æne. Is the Prince there in perfon?
Had I so good occafion to lie long,
As you, Prince Paris, nought but heav'nly business
Should rob my bed-mate of my company.
Dio. That's my mind too: good-morrow, lord

Par. A valiant Greek, Eneas; take his hand;
Witness the process of your speech, wherein
You told, how Diomede a whole week, by days,
Did haunt you in the field.

Æne. Health to you, valiant Sir,
During all question of the gentle Truce :
But when I meet you arm'd, as black defiance
As heart can think, or courage execute.

Dio. The one and th'other Diomede embraces.
Our bloods are now in calm, and, so long, health ;:
But when contention and occasion meet,
By Jove, I'll play the hunter for thy life,
With all my force, pursuit and policy.
Æne. And thou shalt hunt a lion that will fly

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With his face backward.---In humane gentleness,
Welcome to Troy. Now, by Anchiseslife,
Welcome, indeed? - by Venus' hand I twear,
No man alive can love, in such a sort,
The thing he means to kill, more excellently.

Dio. We sympathize.- Jove, let Æneas live
(If to my sword his Fate be not the Glory)
A thousand complete courses of the Sun:
But in mine emulous honour let him die,
With every joint a wound, and that to-morrow.

Æne. We know each other well.
Dio. We do ; and long to know each other worse.-

Par. This is the most despightful, gentle greeting ;
The noblest, hateful love, that e'er I heard of.
What business, lord, so early?
Æne. I was sent for to the King; but why, I

know not. Par. His purpose meets you; 'twas, to bring this:

To Calchas' house, and there to render him
(For the enfreed Antenor) the fair Cressid.
Let's have your company; or, if you please,
Halte thee before. I constantly do think,
(Or rather call my thought a certain knowledge);
My brother Troilus lodges there to-night.
Róuse him, and give him note of our approach,
With the whole quality whereof, I fear,
We shall be much unwelcome.

Æne. That assure youi
Troilus had rather Troy were borne to Greece,
Tban Cressid borne from Troy.

Par. There is no help;
The bitter difpofition of the time
Will have it lo. On, lord, we'll follow you.
Ene. Good-morrow all.

Par. And tell me, noble Diomede ; tell me true,
Ev’n in the soul of good sound fellowship,
Who in your thoughts merits fair Helen most?
Myself, or Menelaus?


Dio. Both alike.
He merits well to have her, that doth seek her,
(Not making any scruple of her foilure,)
With such a hell of pain, and world of charge.

you as well to keep her, that defend her
(Not palating the taste of her dishonour,)
With such a costly lofs of wealth and friends.
He, like a puling cuckold, would drink up
The lees and dregs of a flat tamed piece ;
You, like a lecher, out of whorish loins
Are pleas'd to breed out your inheritors:
Both merits pois’d, each weighs no less nor more,
But he as he, which heavier for a whore.

Par. You are too bitter to your Country-woman.

Dio. She's bitter to her Country: here me, Paris,
For ev'ry false drop in her baudy veins
A Grecian's life hath funk; for every scruple
Of her contaminated carrion weight,
A Trojan hath been flain. Since she could fpeak,
She hath not giv'n so many good words breath,
As, for her, Greeks and Trojans suffer'd death.

Par. Fair Diomede, you do as chapmen do,
Dispraise the thing that you desire to buy:
But we in silence hold this virtue well;
We'll not commend what we intend not sell.
Here lies our way.

Changes to Pandarus's House.

Enter Troilus and Creffida.
Toi. EAR, trouble not yourself; the morn is

Cre. Then, sweet my lord, I'll call my uncle down:
He shall unbolt the gates.

Troi. Trouble him not
To bed, to bed-fleep seal those pretty eyes,


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And give as soft attachment to thy senses,
As infants empty of all thought!

Cre. Good-morrow then.
Troi. I pr’ythee now, to bed.
Cre. Are you a weary of me?
Troi. O Cressida! but that the busy day,
Wak'd by the lark, has rous'd the ribald crows,
And dreaming night will hide our joys no longer,
I would not from thee.

Cre. Night hath been too brief.
Troi. Beshrew the witch! with venomous wights

she stays,
Tedious as hell; but flies the grasps of love,
With wings more momentary-{wift than thought:
You will catch cold, and curse me.

Cre. Pr’ythee, tarry-you men will never tarry-
O foolish Cresida -I might have still held off,
And then you would have tarried. Hark, there's

Pan. [within) What's all the doors open here?
Troi. It is your uncle.

Enter Pandarus.
Cre. A pestilence on him! now will be be mocking;
I shall have such a life-

Pan. How now, how now? how go maiden-heads ? Hear you, maid; where's my cousin Creffida? Cre: Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking

uncle ; You bring me to do and then you flout me too.

Pan. To do what? to do what ? let her say, what: What have I brought you to do?

Cre. Come, come, beshrew your heart; you'll never be good; nor suffer others.

Pan. Ha, ha! alas, poor wretch; a poor Capocchia,haft not slept to'night? would he not (a naughty man) let it lleep? a bugbear take him! (One knocks.

Cre. Did not I tell you ?-'would he were knock'd

one up:


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