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Men. Good-night, my lord.

Het. Good-night, fweet lord Menelaus.

Ther. Sweet draught-fweet, quoth afweet fink, fweet fewer.

Achil. Good-night, and welcome, both at once, to

thofe

That go or tarry.

Aga. Good-night.

Achil. Old Neftor tarries, and you too, Diomede, Keep Hedor company an hour or two.

Dio. I cannot, lord, I have important business, The tide whereof is now; good-night, great Hector. Het. Give me your hand.

Uly. Follow his torch, he goes to Calchas' tent:

I'll keep you company.

Troi. Sweet Sir, you honour me.

Helt. And fo, good-night..

Achil. Come, come, enter my tent.

[To Troilus.

[Exeunt. Ther. That fame Diomede's a falfe-hearted rogue, a moft unjust knave: I will no more truft him when he leers, than I will a ferpent when he hiffes: he will spend his mouth and promife, like Brabler the hound; but when he performs, aftronomers foretel it, that it is prodigious, there will come fome change: the Sun borrows of the Moon, when Diomede keeps his word. I will rather leave to fee Hector, than not to dog him they fay, he keeps a Trojan drab, and ufes the traitor Calchas his tent. I'll after-Nothing but lechery; all incontinent varlets. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Changes to Calchas's Tent.

Enter Diomede.

Dio. WHAT are you up here, ho? speak.

Who calls?

Dio. Diomede; Calchas I think; where's your

daughter?

Cal.

Cal. She comes to you.

Enter Troilus and Ulysses, after them Therfites.

Ulyff. Stand where the torch may not discover us. Enter Creffida.

Troi. Creffid come forth to him?

Dio. How now, my charge?

Cre. Now, my fweet guardian; hark, a word with

you.

Troi. Yea, fo familiar?

[Whispers.

Uly. She will fing to any man at first sight.

Ther. And any man may fing to her, if he can take her cliff. She's noted.

Dio. Will you remember?

Cre. Remember; yes.

Dio. Nay, but do then; and let your mind be coupled with your words.

Troi. What should she remember?

Uly. Lift,

Cre. Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly.

Ther. Roguery

Dio. Nay, then

Cre. I'll tell you what.

Dio. Pho! pho! come, tell a pin, you are a forfworn

Cre. In faith, I can't: what would you have me do? Ther. A jugling trick, to be fecretly open.

Dio. What did you fwear you would bestow on me? Cre. I pr'thee, do not hold me to mine oath; Bid me do any thing but that, sweet Greek.

Dio. Good-night.

Troi. Hold, patience

Ulyff. How now, Trojan?

Cre. Diomede,-

Dio. No, no, good-night: I'll be your fool no

more.

Troi. Thy Better muft.

Cre. Hark, one word in your ear.
Troi. O plague, and madness!

Uly. You are mov'd, Prince; let us depart, I

pray you,

Left your displeasure should enlarge itself
To wrathful terms: this place is dangerous;
The time right deadly: I befeech you, go.
Troi. Behold, I pray you
Ulf. Good my lord, go off.

You fly to great distraction: come, my lord.
Troi. I pr'ythee, stay.

Uly. You have not patience; come.

Troi. I pray you, ftay; by hell, and by hell's

torments,

I will not speak a word.

Dio. And fo, good-night.

Cre. Nay, but you part in anger?

Troi. Doth that grieve thee? O wither'd truth! Uly. Why, how now, lord?

Troi. By Jove, I will be patient.

Cre. Guardian- why Greek

Dio. Pho, pho, adieu! you palter.

Cre. In faith I do not: come hither once again. Ulyff. You fhakc, my lord, at fomething; will

you go?

You will break out.

Troi. She ftrokes his cheek.

Ulyff. Come, come.

Troi. Nay, ftay; by Jove, I will not speak a word. There is between my will and all offences

A guard of patience: ftay a little while.

Ther. How the devil luxury with his fat rump and potato finger tickles thefe together! fry, lechery, fry!

Dio. But will you then?

Cre. In faith, I will, la; never truft me elfe.
Dio. Give me fome token for the furety of it.

Cre.

Cre. I'll fetch you one..

Ulyff. You have fworn patience.

Troi. Fear me not, fweet lord,

I will not be myself, nor have cognition.

Of what I feel: I am all patience.

SCENE

Ther. Now

IV.

Re-enter Creffida.

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OW the pledge; now, now, now.
Cre. Here, Diomede, keep this fleeve.

Troi. O beauty! where's thy faith?
Ulyff My lord,-

Troi. I will be patient, outwardly, I will.

[Exit.

Cre. You look upon that fleeve; behold it will:He lov'd me:-O falfe wench!-Give't me again. Dio. Whofe was't?

Cre. It is no matter, now I have't again. I will not meet with you to-morrow night: I pr'ythee, Diomede, vifit me no more.

Ther. Now the fharpens: well faid, Whetstone. Dio. I fhall have it.

Cre. What, this?

Dio. Ay, that.

Cre. O, all ye Gods

O pretty, pretty pledge;

Thy mafter now lies thinking in his bed

Of thee and me, and fighs, and takes my glove,
And gives memorial dainty kiffes to it:

As I kifs thee.

[Diomedes fnatches the fleeve.

Nay, do not snatch it from me:

He, that takes that, must take my heart withal.
Dio. I had your heart before, this follows it.

Troi. I did fwear patience.

Cre. You fhall not have it, Diomede: faith, you

fhall not:

I'll give you fomething else.

Dio. I will have this: whose was it?

Cre. 'Tis no matter.

Dio. Come, tell we whofe it was?

Cre. 'Twas one that lov'd me better than you will. But, now you have it, take it.

Dio. Whofe was it?

Cre. By all Diana's waiting-women yonder, And by herself, I will not tell you whose.

Dio. To-morrow will I wear it on my helm,

And grieve his fpirit, that dares not challenge it: Troi. Wert thou the Devil, and wor'ft it on thy horn,

It should be challeng'd.

Cre. Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis paft; and yet it

is not

I will not keep my word.

- Dio. Why then, farewel.

Thou never fhalt mock Diomede again.

Cre. You fhall not go;

word,

But it ftraight starts you.

-one cannot speak a

Dio. I do not like this fooling.

Ther. Nor I, by Pluto: but that that likes not you,

pleases me beft.

Dio. What, fhall I come? the hour?

Cre. Ay, come:

-O Jove! do, come:

I fhall be plagued.

Dio. Farewel 'till then.

[Exit.

Cre. Good-night: I pr'ythee, come.

Troilus, farewel; one eye yet looks on thee,

But with my

heart the other eye doth fee.

Ah, poor our fex! this fault in us I find,

The error of our eye directs our mind.

What error leads, muft err: O then conclude,

Minds fway'd by eyes are full of turpitude.

[Exit.

SCENE V.

Ther. A Proof of ftrength she could not publish

more;

Unless she say, my mind is now turn'd whore.

Ulys

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