away nothing, for we may live to have need of such a verse; we see it, we see it.-How now, lambs ?

Tro. Cressid, I love thee in so strain'd a purity,
That the blest gods-as angry with my fancy,
More bright in zeal than the devotion which
Cold lips blow to their deities-take thee from me.
Cres. Have the gods envy ?

Pan. Ay, ay, ay, ay; 'tis too plain a case.
Cres. And is it true, that I must go from Troy
Tro. A hateful truth.

Cres.

What, and from Troilus too?
Tro. From Troy, and Troilus.
Cres.

Is it possible
Tro. And suddenly; where injury of chance
Puts back leave-taking, justles roughly by
All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips
Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents

7

Our lock'd embrasures, strangles our dear vows
Even in the birth of our own labouring breath;
We two, that with so many thousand sighs
Did buy each other, must poorly sell 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 distinct breath and consign'd kisses to them,
He fumbles up into a loose adieu:
And scants us with a single famish'd kiss,
Distasted with the salt of broken tears.
Ene. [Within.] My lord! is the lady ready?
Tro. Hark! you are call'd: Some say, the
Genius so

Cries, Come! to him that instantly must die.
Bid them have patience; she shall come anon.
Pan. Where are my tears rain, to lay this
wind, or my heart will be blown up by the root!
[Exit Pandarus
Cres. I must then to the Greeks?
Tro.
No remedy.
Cres. A woful Cressid 'mongst the merry Greeks!
When shall we see again?
Tro. Hear me, my love: Be thou but true of

heart,

Cres. 1 true! how now? what wicked deem is this?

Tro. Nay, we must use expostulation kindly,
For it is parting from us:

I speak not, be thou true, as fearing thee:
For I will throw my glove to death himself,
That there's no maculation in thy heart;
But be thou true, say I, to fashion in
My sequent protestation; be thou true,
And I will see thee.

With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare.
Fear not my truth; the moral of my wit
Is-plain, and true,-there's all the reach of it.
Enter Eneas, Paris, Antenor, Deiphobus, and
Diomedes.

Welcome, Sir Diomed! here is the lady,
Which for Antenor we deliver you:
At the port, lord, I'll give her to thy hand,
And, by the way, possess thee what she is.
Entreat her fair; and, by my soul, fair Greek,
If e'er thou stand at mercy of my sword,
Name Cressid, and thy life shall be as safe
As Priam is in Ilion.

Dio.

pects:

Fair lady Cressid,
So please you, save the thanks this prince ex-
The lustre in your eye, heaven in your cheek,
Pleads your fair usage; and to Diomed
You shall be mistress, and command him wholly.
Tro. Grecian, thou dost not use me courteously,
To shame the zeal of my petition to thee,
In praising her: I tell thee, lord of Greece,
She is as far high-soaring o'er thy praises,
As thou unworthy to be call'd her servant.
I charge thee, use her well, even for my charge;
For, by the dreadful Pluto, if thou dost not,
Though the great bulk Achilles be thy guard,
I'll cut thy throat.

Dio.
O, be not mov'd, Prince Troilus;
Let me be privileg'd by my place, and message,
To be a speaker free; when I am hence,
I'll answer to my lust: And know you, lord,
I'll nothing do on charge: To her own worth

Cres. O, you shall be expos'd, my lord, to She shall be priz'd; but that you say-be 't so

dangers

As infinite as imminent! but, I'll be true.
Tro. And I'll grow friend with danger. Wear
this sleeve.

Cres. And you this glove. When shall I see
you?

Tro. I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels,
To give thee nightly visitation.
But yet, be true.
Cres.
O heavens! be true again?
Tro. Hear why I speak it, love;
The Grecian youths are full of quality;
They're loving, well compos'd, with gifts of na-
ture flowing,

And swelling o'er with arts and exercise;
How novelty may move, and parts with person,
Alas, a kind of godly jealousy
(Which I beseech you, call a virtuous sin)
Makes me afeard.
Cres.

O heavens! you love me not.
Tro. Die I a villain then!
In this I do not call your faith in question,
So inainly as my merit: I cannot sing,
Nor heel the high lavolt, nor sweeten talk,
Nor play at subtle games; fair virtues all,
To which the Grecians are most prompt and
pregnant;

I'll speak it in my spirit and honour,-no.
Tro. Come, to the port.-I tell thee, Diomed,
This brave shall oft make thee to hide thy head.-
Lady, give me your hand; and, as we walk,
To our own selves bend we our needful talk.

[Exeunt Troilus, Cressida, and Diomed.
[Trumpet heard.

Par. Hark! Hector's trumpet.
Ene. How have we spent this morning!
The prince must think me tardy and remiss,
That swore to ride before him to the field.
Par. 'Tis Troilus' fault: Come, come, to field
with him.

Dei. Let us make ready straight.

Ene. Yea, with a bridegroom's fresh alacrity,
Let us address to tend on Hector's heels:
The glory of our Troy doth this day lie,
On his fair worth and single chivalry. [Exeunt.
SCENE V. The Grecian Camp. Lists set out.
Enter Ajax, armed; Agamemnon, Achilles, Pa
troclus, Menelaus, Úlysses, Nestor, and others.
Agam. Here art thou in appointment fresh and
fair,

Anticipating time with starting courage.
Give with thy trumpet a loud note to Troy,

Nest. And very courtly counsel: I'll begin.-Valour and pride excel themselves in Hector: So much for Nestor.

Achil. I'll take that winter from your lips, fair The other blank as nothing. Weigh him well lady;

A consin-german to great Priam's seed;
The obligation of our blood forbids.
A gory emulation 'twixt us twain:
Were thy commixtion Greek, and Trojan so,
That thou could'st say-This hand is Grecian
all,

And this is Trojan; the sinews of this leg
All Greek, and this all Troy; my mother's
blood

Runs on the dexter cheek, and this sinister
Bounds-in my father's; By Jove multipotent,
Thou should'st not bear from me a Greekish

member

Wherein my sword had not impressure made
Of our rank feud; But the just gods gainsay,
That any drop thou borrow'st from thy mother,
My sacred aunt, should by my mortal sword
Be drain'd! Let me embrace thee, Ajax:
By him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms;
Hector would have them fall upon him thus:
Cousin, all honour to thee!

Ajax.
I thank thee, Hector:
Thou art too gentle, and too free a man:
I came to kill thee, consin, and bear hence
A great addition earned in thy death.
Hect. Not Neoptolemus so 'mirable

(On whose bright crest Fame with her loud'st

O yes

Cries, This is he,) could promise to himself
A thought of added honour torn from Hector.
Ene. There is expectance here from both the
sides,

What further you will do.
Hect.
We'll answer it;
The issue is embracement :-Ajax, farewell.
Ajar. If I might in entreaties find success
Asseld I have the chance.) I would desire
My famous cousin to our Grecian tents.
Dio. 'Tis Agamemnon's wish and great
Achilles

Doth long to see unarm'd the valiant Hector.
Hect. Eneas. call my brother Troilus to me:
And signify this loving interview
To the expecters of our Trojan part;
Desire them home.-Give me thy hand, my

consin;

1 will go eat with thee, and see your knights. Ajax. Great Agamemnon comes to meet us here. Hect. The worthiest of them tell me name by

name;

But for Achilles, my own searching eyes
Shall find him by his large and portly size.
Agam. Worthy of arms! as welcome as to one
That would be rid of such an enemy;
But that's no welcome: Understand more clear,
What's past, and what's to come, is strew'd with
husks

And formless ruin of oblivion;

But in this extant moment, faith and troth,
Strain'd purely from all hollow bias-drawing,
Bids thee, with most divine integrity,
From heart of very heart, great Hector, wel-

come.

Hect. I thank thee, most imperious Agamem

non.

you.

Agam. My well-fam'd lord of Troy, no less to
[To Troilus.
Men. Let me confirm my princely brother's
greeting;-

You brace of warlike brothers, welcome hither.
Hect. Whom must we answer ?
Men.
The noble Menelans.
Hect. O you, my lord? by Mars his gauntlet
thanks!

Mock not, that I affect the untraded oath;
Your quondam wife swears still by Venus' glove:
She's well, but bade me not commend her to you.
Men. Name her not now, sir; she's a deadly

theme.

Hect. O, pardon; I offend.

Through ranks of Greekish youth and I have
seen thee,

As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed,
Despising many forfeits and subduements,
When thou hast hung thy advanced sword i' the
air,

Not letting it decline on the declin'd;
That I have said to some my standers-by,
Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life!

And I have seen thee pause, and take thy breath,
When that a ring of Greeks have hemm'd thee in,
Like an Olympian wrestling: this have I seen;
But this thy countenance, still lock'd in steel,
I never saw till now. I knew thy grandsire,
And once fought with him: he was a soldier
good;

But, by great Mars, the captain of us all,
Never like thee: Let an old man embrace thee;
And, werthy warrior, welcome to our tents.
Ene. 'Tis the old Nestor.

Hect. Let me embrace thee, good old chronicle, That hast so long walk'd hand in hand with time:

Most reverend Nestor, I am glad to clasp thee.
Nest. I would, my arms could match thee in
contention,

As they contend with thee in courtesy.
Hect. I would they could.

Nest. Ha!

My prophecy is but half his journey yet;
For yonder walls, that pertly front your town,
Yon towers, whose wanton tops do buss the
clouds,
Must kiss their own feet.

Hect.
I must not believe you;
There they stand yet; and modestly I think,
The fall of every Phrygian stone will cost
A drop of Grecian blood: The end crowns all;
And that old common arbitrator, time,
Will one day end it.
Ulyss.
So to him we leave it.
Most gentle, and most valiant Hector, welcome :
After the general, I beseech you next
To feast with me, and see me at my tent.
Achil. I shall forestall thee, Lord Ulysses,
thou!-

Now, Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee;
I have with exact view perus'd thee, Hector,
And quoted joint by joint.

Hect.

Achil. I am Achilles.

Is this Achilles?

Hect. Stand fair, I pray thee: let me look on

thee.

Shall I destroy him; whether there, there, or there ?

That I may give the local wound a name; And make distinct the very breach whereout Hector's great spirit flew: Answer me, heavens! Nest. I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft, Hert. It would discredit the bless'd gods, proud Labouring for desuny, make cruel way

man,

well;

For I'll not kill thee there, nor there, nor there;
But, by the forge that stithed Mars his helm,
I'll kill thee every where, yea, o'er and o'er.-
You wisest Grecians, pardon me this brag,
His insolence draws folly from my lips;
But I'll endeavour deeds to match these words,
Or may I never

Ajax.
Do not chafe thee, cousin ;
And you, Achilles, let these threats alone,
Till accident, or purpose, bring you to't:
You may have every day enough of Hector,
If you have stomach; the general state, I fear,
Can scarce entreat you to be odd with him.
Hect. I pray you, let us see you in the field;
We have had pelting wars, since you refus'd'
The Grecians' cause.

?

Achil
Dost thou entreat me, Hector
To-morrow, do I meet thee, fell as death;
To-night, all friends.
Hect.
Thy hand upon that match.
Agam. First, all you peers of Greece, go to
my tent;

There in the full convive we: afterwards,
As Hector's leisure and your bounties shall
Concur together, severally entreat him.-
Beat loud the tabourines, let the trumpets blow,
That this great soldier may his welcome know.
Exeunt all but Troilus and Ulysses.
Tro. My Lord Ulysses, tell me, I beseech you,
In what place of the field doth Calchas keep?
Ulyss. At Menelaus' tent, most princely Troi-

lus:

There Diomed doth feast with him to-night:
Who neither looks upon the heaven, nor earth,
But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view
On the fair Cressid.

Tro. Shall I, sweet lord, be bound to you so
much,

After we part from Agamemnon's tent,
To bring me thither?
Ulyss.
You shall command me, sir.
As gentle tell me, of what honour was
This Cressida in Troy? Had she no lover there
That wails her absence?

Tro. O, sir, to such as boasting show their

scars,

A mock is due. Will you walk on, my lord ?
She was belov'd, she lov'd: she is, and doth:
But, still, sweet love is food for fortune's tooth.

ACT V.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I. The Grecian Camp. Before Achilles'
Tent.

Enter Achilles and Patroclus.

Patr. Male varlet, you rogue! what's that? Ther. Why, his masculine whore. Now the rotten diseases of the south, the guts-griping, ruptures, catarrhs, loads o' gravel i' the back, lethargies, cold palsies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten livers, wheezing lungs, bladders full of impos. thume, sciaticas, limekilns in the palm, incurable bone-ach, and the rivelled fee-simple of the tetter, take and take again such preposterous discoveries!

Patr. Why thou damnable box of envy, thou, what meanest thou to curse thus ?

Ther. Do I curse thee?

Patr. Why, no, you ruinous butt; you whore. son indistinguishable cur, no.

Ther. No why art thou then exasperate, thou idle immaterial skein of sleave silk, thou green sarcenet flap for a sore eye, thou tassel of a prodigal's purse, thou? Ah, how the poor world is pester'd with such water-flies: diminutives of

nature!

Patr. Out, gall!

Ther Finch egg!

Achil. My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite
From my great purpose in to-morrow's battle.
Here is a letter from queen Hecuba:

A token from her daughter, my fair love;
Both taxing me, and gaging me to keep
An oath that I have sworn. I will not break it:
Fall, Greeks; fail, fame; honour or go, or stay,
My major vow lies here, this I'll obey.-
Come, come, Thersites, help to trim my tent;
This night in banqueting must all be spent.
Away, Patroclus. [Exeunt Achil. and Patr.
Ther. With too much blood and too little brain,
these two may run mad; but if with too much
brain, and too little blood, they do, I'll be a curer
of madmen. Here's Agamemnon,-an honest
fellow enough, and one that loves quails; but
he has not so much brain as earwax. And the
goodly transformation of Jupiter there, his bro-
ther, the bull,-the primitive statue, and oblique.
memorial of cuckolds; a thrifty shoeing-horn
in a chain, hanging at his brother's leg,-to
what form, but that he is, should wit larded
with malice, and malice forced with wit, turn
him to? To an ass, were nothing: he is both
ass and ox: to an ox were nothing; he is both
ox and ass. To be a dog, a mule, a cat, a fit-
chew, a toad, a lizard, an owl, a puttock, or a
herring without a roe, I would not care: but to
be Menelaus,-I would conspire against destiny.
Ask me not what I would be, if I were not 'I her-
sites; for I care not to be the louse of a lazar,
so I were not Menelaus.-Hey-day! spirits and
fires!

Enter Hector, Troilns, Ajax, Agamemnon,
Ulysses, Nestor, Menelaus, and Diomed,
with Lights.

Achil. I'll heat his blood with Greekish wine Agam. We go wrong, we go wrong. to-night,

Ajax.

Which with my scimitar I'll cool to-morrow.-There, where we see the lights.
Patroclus, let us feast him to the height.
Patr. Here comes Thersites.

Enter Thersites.

Achil. How now, thou core of envy? Thou crusty batch of nature, what's the news? Ther. Why, thou picture of what thou seemest, and idol of idiot-worshippers, here's a letter for thee.

Achil. From whence, fragment?

Ther. Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy.
Patr. Who keeps the tent now?

Ther. The surgeon's box, or the patient's
wound.

Hec.

No, yonder 'tis ; I trouble you. Here comes himself to guide you. Enter Achilles.

Ajax. No, not a whit.
Ulyss.

Achil Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, princes all.

Agam. So now, fair prince of Troy, I bid
good night.

Ajax commands the guard to tend on you.
Hect. Thanks, and good night, to the Greeks
general.

Men. Good night, my lord.

Hect. Good night, sweet lord Menelauz.

Hark! one word in your ear.

Tro. O plague and madness!
Ulyss. You are mov'd, prince; let us depart,
I pray you,

Lest your displeasure should enlarge itseif
Dio-To wrathful terms: this place is dangerous;
The time right deadly; I beseech you, go.
Tro. Behold, I pray you!