Troi, And I'll this fleeve.

grow friend with danger. Wear

Gre. And you this glove. When shall I fee you? Troi. I will corrupt the Grecian centinels, To give thee nightly vifitation.

But yet, be true.

Cre. O heavens !-be true, again.

Troi. Hear why I speak it, love: The Grecian youths

As well compos'd, with gifts of nature flowing, And fwelling o'er with arts and exercise ;

How novelties may move, and parts with perfon, Alas, a kind of godly jealoufy

(Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous fin) Makes me afeard.

Gre. O heavens! you love me not,

Troi. Die I a villain then!

In this I do not call your faith in question,
So mainly as my merit: I cannot fing,
Nor heel the high lavolt, nor fweeten talk,
Nor play at fubtle games; fair virtues all,
To which the Grecians are most prompt and preg.
But I can tell, that in each grace of thefe [nant:
There lurks a still and dumb-difcourfive devil,
That tempts moft cunningly: but be not tempted.
Cre. Do you think, I will?

Troi. No.

But fomething may be done, that we will not:
And fometimes we are devils to ourselves,
When we will tempt the frailty of our powers,
Prefuming on their changeful potency.
Ene. Within.] Nay, good my lord,-
Trai. Come, kifs; and let us part.
Par. [Within.] Brother Troilus!

Troi. Good brother, come you hither; And bring Æneas, and the Grecian, with you. Cre. My lord, will you be true?

Troi. Who, I alas, it is my vice, my fault: Whilst others fifh with craft for great opinion, I' with great truth catch mere fimplicity; Whilft fome with cunning gild their

copper crowns, E 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, and DIOMED.

Welcome, fir Diomed! here is the lady,
Whom for Antenor we deliver you :

At the port, lord, I'll give her to thy hand;
And, by the way, poffefs thee what the is.
Entreat her fair; and, by my foul, fair Greek,
If e'er thou ftand at mercy of my fword,
Name Creffid, and thy life shall be as fafe
As Priam is in Ilion.

Dio. Fair lady Creffid,

So please you, fave the thanks this prince expects:
The luftre in your eye, heaven in your cheek,
Pleads your fair ufage; and to Diomed

You fhall be mistress, and command him wholly.
Troi. Grecian, thou doft not use me courteously,
To fhame the zeal of my petition to thee,
In praifing her: I tell thee, lord of Greece,
She is as far high-foaring o'er thy praises,
As thou unworthy to be call'd her fervant.
I charge thee, ufe her well, even for my charge;
For, by the dreadful Pluto, if thou doft 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 meffage, To be a fpeaker free; when I am hence, I'll answer to my luft: And know you, lord, I'll nothing do on charge: to her own worth She fhall be priz'd? but that you fay-be't fo, I speak it in my spirit and honour,—no.

Troi. Come, to the port.-I'll tell thee, Diomed, This brave fhall oft make thee to hide thy head.Lady, give me your hand; and, as we walk, To our own felves bend we our needful talk. [Exeunt TROILUS and CRESSID. Sound Trumpet. Par. Hark! Hector's trumpet.

Ene. How haye we spent this morning! The prince muft think me tardy and remifs, That fwore to ride before him to the field. .Par. 'Tis Troilus' fault: Come, come, to field Dio. Let us make ready ftraight. [with him. Ene. Yea, with a bridegroom's fresh alacrity, Let us addrefs to tend on Hector's heels: The glory of our Troy doth this day lie On his fair worth, and fingle chivalry.

SCENE V. The Grecian Camp.

Enter Ajax arm'd, AGAMEMNON, ACHILLES, PATROCLUS, MENELAUS, ULYSSES, NESTOR, &c.

Aga. Here art thou in appointment fresh and fair, Anticipating time with ftarting courage. Give with thy trumpet a loud note to Troy, Thou dreadful Ajax; that the appalled air May pierce the head of the great combatant, And hale him hither.

Ajax. Thou, trumpet, there's my purse.

Now

Now crack thy lungs, and fplit thy brazen pipe:
Blow, villain, 'till thy fphered bias cheek
Out-fwell the cholic of puff'd Aquilon:

Come, ftretch thy cheft, and let thy eyes fpout
Thou blow'ft for Hector.

Uly. No trumpet answers.

Achil. 'Tis but early day.

[blood;

Aga. Is not yon Diomed, with Calchas' daughter? Ulyff. 'Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait; He rifes on his toe; that spirit of his

In aspiration lifts him from the earth.

Enter DioмED, with CRESSIDA.

Aga. Is this the lady Creffida.

Dio. Even fhe.

Aga. Moft dearly welcome to the Greeks, fweet lady.

Neft. Our general doth falute you with a kifs. Uly. Yet is the kindness but particular; "Twas better she were kiss'd in general.

Neft. And very courtly counfel: I'll begin.So much for Neftor.

Achil. I'll take that winter from your lips, fair Achilles bids you welcome.

[lady: Men. I had good argument for kiffing once. Patr. But that's no argument for kiffing now: For thus popp'd Paris in his hardiment; And parted thus you and your argument.

Uly. O deadly gall and theme of all our fcorns! For which we lofe our heads, to gild his horns. Patr. The first was Menelaus' kifs;—this, mine: Patroclus kiffes you.

Men. O, this is trim !

Patr. Paris, and I, kifs evermore for him.

Men. I'll have my kifs, fir:-Lady, by your leave

Cre. In kiffing, do you render, or receive?
Patr. Both take and give.

Cre. I'll make my match to live,

The kifs you take is better than you give:
Therefore no kifs.

Men. I'll give you boot, I'll give you three for one.
Cre. You're an odd man; give even or give none.
Men. An odd man, lady? every man is odd.
Cre. No, Paris is not; for, you know, 'tis true,
That you are odd, and he is even with you.
Men. You filip me o' the head.

Cre. No, I'll be fworn.

Uly. It were no match, your nail against his May I, fweet lady, beg a kiss of you? [horn.Cre. You may.

Uly. I do defire it.

Cre. Why, beg then.

Uly. Why then, for Venus' fake, give me a kiss, When Helen is a maid again, and his.

Cre. I am your debtor, claim it when 'tis due. Ulyff. Never's my day, and then a kifs of you. Dio. Lady, a word;-I'll bring you to your father, [DIOMED leads out CRESSIDA. Neft. A woman of quick fenfe.

Uly. Fie, fie upon her.

There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip,
Nay, her foot fpeaks; her wanton fpirits look out
At every joint and motive of her body.

O, thefe encounterers, fo glib of tongue,
That give a coafting welcome ere it comes,
And wide unclafp the tables of their thoughts
To every ticklish reader! fet them down
For fluttish spoils of opportunity,

And