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Cres. Then, sweet my lord, I'll call mine uncle] down;

He shall unbolt the gates.

Tro.

Trouble him not;

To bed, to bed: Sleep kill those pretty eyes, And give as soft attachment to thy senses, As infants' empty of all thought!

Cres.

Tro. 'Pr'ythee now, to bed. Cres.

As Pandarus is going out, enter Troilus.

Tro. How now? what's the matter?

Ene. My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute
you,

My matter is so rash: There is at hand
Paris your brother, and Deiphobus,

Good morrow then. The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor
Deliver'd to us; and for him forthwith,
Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour,
We must give up to Diomedes' hand
The lady Cressida.

Are you aweary of me? Tro. O Cressida ! but that the busy day, Wak'd by the lark, hath rous'd the ribald crows, And dreaming night will hide our joys no longer, I would not from thee. Cres.

Night hath been too brief. Pro. Beshrew the witch! with venomous wights she stays,

As tediously as hell; but flies the grasps of love,
With wings more momentary-swift than thought.
You will catch cold, and curse me.
Cres.

You men will never tarry.

Pr'ythee, tarry ;

O foolish Cressid !-I might have still held off, And then you would have tarried. Hark! there's one up.

Pun. [Within.] What, are all the doors open here? Tro. It is your uncle.

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Pan. Ha ha! Alas, poor wretch! a poor capocchia hast not slept to-night? would he not, a naughty man, let it sleep? a bugbear take him! [Knocking. Cres. Did I not tell you?-'would he were knock'd o'the head!

Who's that at door? good uncle, go and see.-
My lord, come you again into my chamber :
You smile, and mock me, as if I meant naughtily.
Tro. Ha ha!

Cres. Come, you are deceiv'd, I think of no such thing. [Knocking. How earnestly they knock! pray you, come in ; I would not for half Troy have you seen here. [Exeunt Troilus and Cressida. Pan. [Going to the door.] Who's there? what's the matter? will you beat down the door? How now? what's the matter?

Enter Eneas.

Ene. Good-morrow, lord, good-morrow.
Pan. Who's there? my lord Æneas? By my
troth,

I knew you not: what news with you so early?
Ene. Is not prince Troilus here?
Pan. Here! what should he do here?

Ene. Come, he is here, my lord, do not deny him;

It doth import him much, to speak with me.
Pan. Is he here, say you? 'tis more than I know,
I'll be sworn-For my own part, I came in late :
What should he do here?

Ene. Who -nay, then :

Come, come, you'll do him wrong ere you

'ware:

Tro.

Is it so concluded?
Ene. By Priam, and the general state of Troy :
They are at hand, and ready to effect it.
Tro. How my achievements mock me!

I will go meet them: and, my lord Æneas,
We met by chance; you did not find me here.
Ene. Good, good, my lord; the secrets of nature
Have not more gift in taciturnity.

[Exeunt Troilus and Æneas. Pan. Is't possible? no sooner got, but lost? The devil take Antenor! the young prince will go mad. A plague upon Antenor! I would, they had broke's neck.

Enter Cressida.

Cres. How now? what is the matter? Who was
Pan. Ah, ah!
[here ?
Cres. Why sigh you so profoundly? where's my
lord gone?

Tell me, sweet uncle, what's the matter?
Pan. 'Would I were as deep under the earth as
I am above!

Cres. O the gods !-what's the matter?

Pan. Pr'ythee, get thee in; 'Would thou had'st ne'er been born! I knew, thou would'st be his death-O poor gentleman!-A plague upon Antenor!

Cres. Good uncle, I beseech you on my knees, I beseech you, what's the matter?

Pan. Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone; thou art changed for Antenor: thou must to thy father, and be gone from Troilus; 'twill be his death; 'twill be his bane; he cannot bear it. Cres. O you immortal gods !-I will not go. Pan. Thou must.

Cres. I will not, uncle: I have forgot my father; I know no touch of consanguinity;

No kin, no love, no blood, no soul so near me,
As the sweet Troilus.-O you gods divine!
Make Cressid's name the very crown of falsehood,
If ever she leave Troilus! Time, force, and death,
Do to this body what extremes you can ;
But the strong base and building of my love
Is as the very center of the earth,
Drawing all things to it.-I'll go in, and weep ;-
Pan. Do, do.

Cres. Tear my bright hair, and scratch my prais ed cheeks;

Crack my clear voice with sobs, and break my heart

With sounding Troilus. I will not go from Troy. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The same. Before Pandarus' House.
Enter Paris, Troilus, Æneas, Deiphobus, Antenor,
and Diomedes.

Par. It is great morning; and the hour prefix'd
Of her delivery to this valiant Greek
Comes fast upon :-Good my brother Troilus,
Tell you the lady what she is to do,
And haste her to the purpose.
Tro.

Walk in to her house;
I'll bring her to the Grecian presently:
And to his hand when I deliver her,
are Think it an altar; and thy brother Troilus
A priest, there offering to it his own heart. [Erit.
Par. I know what 'tis to love;

You'll be so true to him, to be false to him:
Do not you know of him, yet go fetch him hither;
Go.

And 'would, as I shall pity, I could help !Please you, walk in, my lords.

[Exeunt.

My sequent protestation; be thou true,

SCENE IV-The same. A Room in Pandarus' And I will see thee.

House.

Enter Pandarus and Cressida.

Pan. Be moderate, be moderate.
Cres. Why tell you me of moderation?
The grief is fine, full, perfect, that I taste,

And violenteth in a sense as strong

As that which causeth it: How can I moderate it?

If I could temporize with my affection,

Or brew it to a weak and colder palate,
The like allayment could I give my grief:
My love admits no qualifying dross :

No more my grief, in such a precious loss.

Enter Troilus.

Pan. Here, here, here he comes.-Ah, sweet ducks!

Cres. O Troilus! Troilus! [Embracing him. Pan. What a pair of spectacles is here! Let me embrace too: O heart,-as the goodly saying is,

-o heart, o heavy heart,

Why sigh'st thou without breaking? where he answers again,

Because thou canst not ease thy smart,

By friendship, nor by speaking.

There never was a truer rhyme. Let us cast 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

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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

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 heavenl,
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

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Cres. O, you shall be expos'd, my lord, to 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 nature 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.
O heavens! you love me not.
Tro. Die I a villain then!

Cres.

In this I do not call your faith in question,
So mainly 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 preg.

nant:

But I can tell, that in each grace of these
There lurks a still and dumb-discoursive devil,
That tempts most cunningly but be not tempted.
Cres. Do you think, I will?

Tro. No.

But something may be done, that we will not:
And sometimes we are devils to ourselves,
When we will tempt the frailty of our powers,
Presuming on their changeful potency.
Ene. [Within.] Nay, good my lord,
Tro.

Come, kiss; and let us part.
Par. [Within.] Brother Troilus!
Tra.
Good brother, come you hither;
And bring Eneas, and the Grecian, with you.
Cres. My lord, will you be true?

Tro. Who I? alas, it is my vice, my fault; While others fish with craft for great opinion, I with great truth catch mere simplicity; Whilst some with cunning gild their copper crowns, 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.

Fair lady Cressid, So please you, save the thanks this prince expects : 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.

Tro. Hear me, my love: Be thou but true heart,

of

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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.

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

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

She shall be priz'd; but that you say-be't so,
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.

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Ulyss.
I do desire it.
Cres.
Why, beg then.
Ulyss. Why then, for Venus' sake, give me a kiss,
When Helen is a maid again, and his.

May I, sweet lady, beg a kiss of you?
Cres. You may.
[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.

Cres. I am your debtor, claim it when 'tis due.
Ulyss. Never's my day, and then a kiss of you.
Dio. Lady, a word;-I'll bring you to your
father.
[Diomed leads out Cressida.

Nest. A woman of quick sense.

Ulyss.
Fye, fye upon her!
There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip,
Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out
At every joint and motive of her body.
O, these encounterers, so glib of tongue,
That give a coasting welcome ere it comes,
Pa-And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts
To every ticklish reader! set them down
For sluttish spoils of opportunity,
And daughters of the game. [Trumpet within.
All. The Trojans' trumpet.
Agam.

SCENE V.-The Grecian Camp. Lists set out. Enter Ajax, armed; Agamemnon, Achilles, troclus, Menelaus, Ulysses, 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,
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 crack thy lungs, and split thy brazen pipe :
Blow, villain, till thy sphered bias cheek
Out-swell the cholick of puff'd Aquilon:
Come, stretch thy chest, and let thy eyes spout
blood;

Thou blow'st for Hector.

[Trumpet sounds.

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lady.

Nest. Our general doth salute you with a kiss. Ulyss. Yet is the kindness but particular; "Twere better, she were kiss'd in general.

Nest. And very courtly counsel: I'll begin.So much for Nestor.

Achil. I'll take that winter from your lips, fair lady:

Achilles bids you welcome.

Men. I had good argument for kissing once.
Patr. But that's no argument for kissing now:
For thus popp'd Paris in his hardiment;
And parted thus you and your argument.
Ulyss. O deadly gall, and theme of all our scorns!
For which we lose our heads, to gild his horns.
Patr. The first was Menelaus' kiss ;-this, mine:
Patroclus kisses you.

Men.

O, this is trim !

Patr. Paris, and I, kiss evermore for him.
Men. I'll have my kiss, sir :-Lady, by your
leave.

Cres. In kissing, do you render or receive ?
Patr. Both take and give.

Cres.

I'll make my match to live, The kiss you take is better than you give ; Therefore no kiss.

Men. I'll give you boot, I'll give you three for

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Yonder comes the troop.

Enter Hector, armed; Eneas, Troilus, and other
Trojans, with Attendants.

Ene. Hail, all the state of Greece! what shall
be done

To him that victory commands? Or do you pur-
pose,

A victor shall be known? will you, the knights
Shall to the edge of all extremity
Pursue each other; or shall they be divided
By any voice or order of the field?
Hector bade ask.

Agam. Which way would Hector have it?
Ene. He cares not, he'll obey conditions.
Achil. 'Tis done like Hector; but securely done,
A little proudly, and great deal misprizing
The knight oppos'd.

Ene.

What is your name ?

Achil.

If not Achilles, sir,

If not Achilles, nothing.

Ene. Therefore Achilles : But, whate'er, know

this;

In the extremity of great and little,
Valour and pride excel themselves in Hector;
The one almost as infinite as all,

The other blank as nothing. Weigh him well,
And that, which looks like pride, is courtesy.
This Ajax is half made of Hector's blood.
In love whereof, half Hector stays at home;
Half heart, half hand, half Hector comes to seek
This blended knight, half Trojan, and half Greek.
Achil. A maiden battle then ?-0, I perceive you.

Re-enter Diomed.

Agam. Here is sir Diomed :-Go, gentle knight.
Stand by our Ajax: as you and lord Eneas
Consent upon the order of their fight,
So be it; either to the uttermost,
Or else a breath the combatants being kin,
Half stints their strife before their strokes begin.
[Ajax and Hector enter the lists.
Ulyss. They are oppos'd already.
Agam. What Trojan is that same that looks so
heavy?

Ulyss. The youngest son of Priam, a true knight;
Not yet mature, yet matchless : firm of word;
Speaking in deeds, and deedless in his tongue;
Not soon provok'd, nor, being provok'd, soon
calm'd:

His heart and hand both open, and both free ;
For what he has, he gives; what thinks, he shows;
Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty,
Nor dignifies an impair thought with breath ·
Manly as Hector, but more dangerous.

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For Hector, in his blaze of wrath, subscribes
To tender objects; but he, in heat of action,
Is more vindicative than jealous love:
They call him Troilus; and on him erect
A second hope, as fairly built as Hector.
Thus says Eneas; one that knows the youth
Even to his inches, and, with private soul,
Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me.
[Alarum. Hector and Ajax fight

Agam. They are in action.
Nest. Now, Ajax, hold thine own
Tro.

Awake thee!

Hector thou sleep'st;

Agam. His blows are well dispos'd:-there,
Ajax !

Dio. You must no more.
[Trumpets cease.
Ene.
Princes, enough, so please you.
Ajax. I am not warm yet, let us fight again.
Di. As Hector pleases.
Hect.
Why then, will I no more:-
Thou art, great lord, my father's sister's son,
A cousin-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, cousin, and bear hence
A great addition earned in thy death.
Hect. Not Neoptolemus so mirable

(On whose bright crest Fame with her loud'st ( 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.
Ajax. If I might in entreaties find success,
(As seld' 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 cousin ;
I 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, welcome.
Hect. I thank thee, most imperious Agamemnon.
Agam. My well-fam'd lord of Troy, no less to
[To Troilus.

you.

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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.

Nest. I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft,
Labouring for destiny, make cruel way
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
Not letting it decline on the declin'd;
That I have said to some my standers-by,
Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life!

[air,

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, worthy warrior, welcome to our tents.
Ene. 'Tis the old Nestor.

Hect. Let me embrace thee, good old chronicle, Thou 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!

By this white beard, I'd fight with thee to-morrow. Well, welcome, welcome! I have seen the timeUlyss. I wonder now how yonder city stands, When we have here our base and pillar by us.

Hect. I know your favour, lord Ulysses, well. Ah, sir, there's many a Greek and Trojan dead, Since first I saw yourself and Diomed In Ilion, on your Greekish embassy.

Ulyss. Sir, I foretold you then what would ensue: 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.
Achil. Behold thy fill.
Hect.
Nay, I have done already.
Achil. Thou art too brief; I will the second
time,

As I would buy thee, view thee limb by limb.
Hect. O, like a book of sport thou'lt read me o'er ;
But there's more in me, than thou understand'st.
Why dost thou so oppress me with thine eye?
Achil. Tell me, you heavens, in which part of his

body

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!
Hect. It would discredit the bless'd gods, proud

man,

To answer such a question: Stand again:
Think'st thou to catch my life so pleasantly,
As to prenominate in nice conjecture,
Where thou wilt hit me dead?

Achil.
I tell thee, yea.
Hect. Wert thou an oracle to tell me so,
I'd not believe thee. Henceforth guard thee well;
For I'll not kill thee there, nor there, nor there;
But, by the forge that stithied 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 Troilus:
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
much,

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. Patr. Well said, Adversity! and what need these tricks?

Ther. Pr'ythee be silent, boy; I profit not by thy talk: thou art thought to be Achilles' male varlet.

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 imposthume, sciaticas, limekilns i'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 whoreson indistinguishable cur, no.

Ther. No? why art thou then exasperate, thou idle immaterial skein of sleive silk, thou green sarcenet flap for a sore eye, thou tassel of a prodigal's purse, thou? Ah, how the poor world is pestered 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 Achilles and Patroclus. 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 ear wax: And the goodly so transformation of Jupiter there, his brother, 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 fitchew, 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 Thersites; for I care not to be the louse of a lazar, so I were not Menelaus.-Hey-day! spirits and fires!

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.

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