Cre. And you this glove. When fball I fee you? Troi. I will corrupt the Grecian Centinels To give thee nightly vifitation. But yet be true. Cre. Oh heav'ns! be true, again? Troi. Hear, why I fpeak it, love: The Grecian youths are full of fubtle qualities, They're loving, 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 afraid. Cre. O heav'ns, you love me not! Troi. Die I a villain then! In this, I do not call your faith in queftion Troi. No, : But fomething may be done, that we will not: Troi. Who 1? alas, it is my Vice, my fault : While others fifh, with craft, for great opinion; 1, with great truth, catch mere fimplicity. 2 While fome with cunning gild their copper crowns, Enter Eneas, Paris, and Diomedes. Welcome, Sir Diomede; here is the lady, At the Port (lord) I'll give her to thy hand, of my fword ; Name Creffid, and thy life fhall be as fafe As Priam is in Ilion. Dio. Lady Creffid, So please you, fave the thanks this Prince expects : You shall be miftrefs, and command him wholly. Dio. Oh, be not mov'd, prince Troilus. I'll answer to my lift and know, my lord, To fhame the Seal of my petition tow'rds thee, fenfe. Shakespear wrote, To fhame the Seal of a Petition is Non- I'll speak it in my spirit and honour-no. Troi. Come, to the Port-I'll tell thee, Diomede, 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. Par. Hark, Hector's trumpet! [Sound Trumpet. Ene. How have we spent this morning? The Prince must think me tardy and remifs, That fwore to ride before him in the field. Par. 'Tis Troilus' fault. Come, come, to field with him. Dio. Let me make ready strait. Ene. Yea, with a bridegroom's fresh alacrity [Exeunt. Enter Ajax armed, Agamemnon, Achilles, Patroclus, Menelaus, Ulyffes, Neftor, &c. Aga. H ERE art thou in appointment fresh and Anticipating time with starting courage. Ajax. Trumpet, there's my purse ; Now crack thy lungs, and fplit thy brazen pipe: Out-fwell the cholic of puft Aquilon : Come, ftretch thy cheft, and let thy eyes fpout blood : Thou blow'ft for Hector. VOL. IX. E Ulyff. Uly. No trumpet anfwers. Achil. 'Tis but early day. Aga. Is not yond' Diomede with Calchas' daughter? Ulyff. 'Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait; He rifes on his toe; that spirit of his In afpiration lifts him from the earth. Enter Diomede, with Creffida. Aga. Is this the lady Creffida? Dio. Ev'n fhe. Aga. Moft dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet lady. Neft. Our General doth falute you with a kiss. Uly. Yet is the kindness but particular ; 'Twere better, fhe were kifs'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 lady: Achilles bids you welcome. Men. I had good argument for kiffing once. Pat. But that's no argument for kifling now: For thus pop'd Paris in his hardiment, And parted, thus, you and your argument. Uly. O deadly gall, and theme of all o fcorns, For which we lofe our heads to gild his horns! Pat. The first was Menelaus' kifs-this mine Patroclus kiffes you. Men. O, this is trim. Pat. Paris and I kifs evermore for him. Men. I'll have my kifs, Sir: lady, by your leave,Cre. In kiffing do you render or receive? Pat. Both take and give. Cre. I'll make my match to live, The kiss you take is better than you give; Men. I'll give you boot, I'll give you three for one. Cre. Cre. No, Paris is not; for you know, 'tis true, Cre. No, I'll be fworn. Ulyff. It were no match, your nail against his horn: May I, fweet lady, beg a kifs of you? Cre. You may. Cre. Why, beg then. Uly. Why then, for Venus fake, give me a kifs, When Helen is a maid again, and his Cre. I am your debtor, claim it when 'tis due. Dio. Lady, a word-I'll bring you to your Father.. [Diomede leads out Creffida. Uly. Fie, fie upon her! There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip: Oh, thefe Encounterers! So glib of tongue, And daughters of the Game. [Trumpet within. Enter Hector, Paris, Troilus, Eneas, Helenus, and Attendants. All. The Trojans' trumpet! Aga. Yonder comes the troop. the Knights Ene. Hail, all the State of Greece! what fhall be done To him that Victory commands? Or do you purpose, A Victor fhall be known? will you, Shall to the edge of all extremity Purfue each other, or shall be divided By any voice, or order of the field? Hector bade afk. Aga. |