o'th' head!--who's that at door?-good uncle, go and fee!--my lord, come you again into my chamber; -you fmile and mock me, as if I meant naughtily. Troi. Ha, ha

Cre. Come, you are deceived, I think of no fuch thing. How earneftly they knock-pray you, comé in. [Knock.] I would not for half Troy have you feen [Exeunt. Pan. Who's there? what's the matter? will you beat down the door; how now? what's the matter ?

here.

Ane.

YOOD-morrow, lord, good-morrow.

Go

Pan. Who's there? my lord Eneas? by my troth, I knew you not; what news with you fo early? Ene. Is not Prince Troilus here ?

Pan. Here! What fhould 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, fay you? 'tis more than I know, I'll be fworn; for my own part, I came in late : what fhould he do here?.

Ene. Pho!-nay, then come, come, you'll do him wrong, ere y'are aware: you'll be so true to him, to be falfe to him: do not you know of him, but yet go fetch him hither, go.

[As Pandarus is going out.

Enter Troilus.

Troi. How now? what's the matter?

Ene. My lord, I fcarce have leafure to falute you, My matter is fo rafh: there is at hand Paris your brother, and Deiphobus, The Grecian Diomede, and our Antenor Deliver'd to us; and for him forthwith, Ere the first facrifice, within this hour,

We

We must give up to Diomedes' hand
The lady Creffida.

Troi. Is it concluded fo?

Ene. By Priam, and the general State of Troy, They are at hand, and ready to effect it. Troi. How my atchievements 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 fecreteft of naturesHave not more gift in taciturnity. [Exeunt.

Enter Creffida to Pandarus.

Pan. IS't poffible? no fooner got, but loft: the Devil take Antenor! the young Prince will go mad: a plague upon Antenor! I would, they had broke's neck.

Cre. How now? what's the matter? who was here?" Pan. Ah, ah!

Cre. Why figh you fo profoundly? where's my lord? gone tell me, fweet uncle, what's the matter? Pan. 'Would I were as deep under the earth, as I am above!

Gre. O the Gods! what's the matter?

Pan. Pr'ythee, get thee in; 'would, thou hadft ne'er been born: I knew, thou would't be his death. O poor gentleman! a plague upon Antenor!

Cre. Good uncle, I befeech you, on my knees, I befeech you, what's the matter?

Pan. Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone thou art chang'd for Antenor; thou must go to thy father, and be gone from Troilus: 'twill be his death; 'twill be his bane; he cannot bear it.

Cre. O you immortal Gods! I will not go.
Pan. Thou muft.

Cre. I will not, uncle: I've forgot my father,
I know no touch of Confanguinity:

No kin, no love, no blood, no foul fo near me,

As

As the sweet Troilus. O you Gods divine!
Make Creffid's name the very Crown of falfhood,
If ever the leave Troilus. Time, Force, and Death,
Do to this body what extremes you can;

But the ftrong Bafe and Building of my Love
Is as the very centre of the earth,

Drawing all to it. I'll go and weep,-

Pan. Do, do.

Cre. Tear my bright hair, and scratch my praised cheeks.

Crack my clear voice with fobs, and break my heart With founding Troilus. I'll not go from Troy. [Exeunt.

Enter Paris, Troilus, Eneas, Deiphobus, Antenor, and Diomedes.

Par. T is great morning and the hour prefixt
I

Of her Delivery to this valiant Greek
Comes faft upon us: good my brother Troilus,
Tell you the Lady what she is to do,

And hafte her to the purpufe.

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

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

An Apartment in Pandarus's Houfe.

Enter Pandarus and Creffida.

Pan. BE moderate, be moderate.

[Exeunt.

Cre. Why tell you me of moderation ?

The

The grief is fine, full, perfect that I taste,
And in its fenfe is no less ftrong, than That
Which caufeth 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 drofs:
Enter Troilus.

No more my grief, in fuch a precious lofs.
Pan. Here, here, here he comes,-

duck!

Cre. O Troilus, Troilus!

-a, fweet

Pan. What a pair of spectacles is here! let me embrace too:

Oh heart, (as the goodly faying is ;)

Oh heart, O heavy heart,

Why fight thou without breaking?

where he answers again;

Because thou can't not cafe thy fmart,

By friendship, nor by speaking.

There was never a truer rhyme. Let us caft away
nothing, for we may live to have need of fuch a
verse; we see it, we fee it. How now, lambs?
Troi. Creffid, I love thee in fo ftrange a purity,
That the bleft Gods, as angry with my fancy
(More bright in zeal than the devotion, which
Cold lips blow to their Deities) take thee from me.
Cre. Have the Gods envy?

Pan. Ay, ay, 'tis too plain a cafe.
Cre. And is it true, that I muft go
Troi. A hateful truth!

Cre. What, and from Troilus too?
Troi. From Troy, and Troilus.

Cre. Is it poffible ?

from Troy?

Troi. And fuddenly: while injury of chance
Puts back leave-taking, jufles roughly by
All time of paufe, rudely beguiles our lips
Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents

Our

Our lock'd embraces, ftrangles our dear vows,
Ev'n in the birth of our own labouring breath.
We two, that with so many thousand fighs
Each other bought, muft poorly fell ourselves
With the rude brevity and discharge of one.
Injurious Time now, with a robber's hafte,
Crams his rich thiev'ry up, he knows not how.
As many farewels as be ftars in heaven,
With diftinct breath and confign'd kiffes to them,
He fumbles up all in one loose adieu;

And fcants us with a fingle famifh'd kifs,
Diftafted with the falt of broken tears..

fo

Eneas. [within.] My lord, is the lady ready? Troi. Hark! you are call'd. Some fay, the Genius so Cries, come, to him that inftantly muft die. Bid them have patience; fhe fhall come anon. Pan. Where are my tears? rain, to lay this wind, or my heart will be blown up by the root.

Cre. I must then to the Grecians?

Troi. No remedy.

[Exit Pandarus.

Cre. A woful Creffid 'mongst the merry Greeks! When shall we see again?

Troi. Hear me, my love; be thou but true of heart

Cre. I true! how now, what wicked Deem is this?
Troi. Nay, we must use expoftulation kindly,
For it is parting from us :-

I fpeak 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, fay I, to fashion in
My fequent proteftation: be thou true,

And I will fee thee.

Cre. O, you shall be expos'd, my lord, to dangers As infinite, as imminent: but, I'll be true.

Troi. And I'll grow friend with danger. Wear

this fleeve.

Cre.