Troilus and Cressida, or, Truth found too late a tragedy, as it is acted at the Dukes Theatre : to which is prefix'd, a preface containing the grounds of criticism in tragedy / written by John Dryden ...

TRVTH found too late. A TRAGEDY.

ACT I. SCENE I. A Camp.

Enter Agamemnon, Menelaus, Ulysses, Diomedes, Nestor.

Agam.

PRinces, it seems not strange to us nor new, That after Nine years Seige Troy makes defence, Since every Action of Recorded Fame Has with long difficulties been involv'd, Not Answering that Idea of the thought Which gave it Birth, why then you Grecian Chiefs, With sickly Eyes do you behold our labours, And think 'em our dishonour, which indeed, Are the protractive Tryals of the Gods, To prove heroique Constancy in Men?

Nestor.

With due observance of thy Soveraign Seat Great Agamemnon, Nestor shall apply, Thy well-weigh'd words: In struggling with misfortunes, Lyes the true proof of Virtue: on smooth Seas, How many bawble Boats dare set their Sails, And make an equall way with firmer Vessels! But let the Tempest once inrage that Sea, And then behold the strong rib'd Argosie, Bounding between the Ocean and the Ayr Like Perseus mounted on his Pegasus. Then where are those weak Rivals of the Maine?

Or to avoid the Tempest fled to Port, Or made a Prey to Neptune: even thus Do empty show and true priz'd worth divide In storms of Fortune.

Vlisses.

Mighty Agamemnon! Heart of our Body, Soul of our designs, In whom the tempers, and the minds of all Shou'd be inclos'd: hear what Vlisses speaks.

Agam.

—You have free leave.

Vlisses.

Troy had been down ere this, and Hectors Sword Wanted a Master but for our disorders: The observance due to rule has been neglected; Observe how many Grecian Tents stand void Upon this plain; so many hollow factions For when the General is not like the Hive To whom the Foragers should all repair, What Hony can our empty Combs expect? O when Supremacy of Kings is shaken, What can succeed: How cou'd communities Or peacefull traffick from divided shores, Prerogative of Age, Crowns, Scepters, Lawrells, But by degree stand on their solid base▪ Then every thing resolves to brutal force And headlong force is led by hoodwink'd will, For wild Ambition, like a ravenous Woolf, Spurd on by will and seconded by power, Must make an universal prey of all, And last devour it self.

Nest.

Most prudently Vlisses has discover'd The Malady whereof our state is sick.

Diom.

'Tis truth he speaks, the General's disdain'd By him one step beneath, he by the next: That next by him below: so each degree Spurns upward at Superiour eminence: Thus our distempers are their sole support; Troy in our weakness lives, not in her strength.

Agam.

The Nature of this sickness found, inform us From whence it draws its birth?

Vlysses.

The great Achilles whom opinion crowns The chief of all our Host— Having his ears buzz'd with his noisy Fame Disdains thy Sovereign charge, and in his Tent, Lyes mocking our designes, with him Patrocius Upon a lazy Bed, breaks scurvil Jests And with ridiculous and awkard action,

Which, slanderer, he limitation calls Mimicks the Greclan chiefs.

Agam.

As how Vlysses?

Vlysses.

Ev'n thee the King of men he do's not spare (The monkey Authour) but thy greatness Pageants And makes of it Rehearsals: like a Player Bellowing his Passion till he break the spring And his rack'd Voice jar to his Audience; So represents he Thee, though more unlike Then Vulcan is to Venus. And at this fulsome stuff, this wit of Apes, The large Achilles on his prest Bed lolling, From his deep Chest roars out a loud Applause, Tickling his spleen, and laughing till he wheeze.

Nestor.

Nor are you spar'd Vlysses, but as you speak in Council He hems ere he begins, then strokes his Beard, Casts down his looks, and winks with half an Eye; 'Has every action, cadence, motion, tone, All of you but the sence.

Agam.

Fortune was merry When he was born, and plaid a trick on Nature To make a mimick Prince: he ne're acts ill But when he would seem wise: For all he says or do's from serious thought Appears so wretched that he mocks his title And is his own Buffoo.

Vlysses.

In imitation of this scurril fool Ajax is grown self-will'd as broad Achilles, He keeps a Table too, makes Factious Feasts, Rails on our State of War, and sets Thirsites (A slanderous slave of an ore-flowing gall) To level us with low Comparisons: They tax our Policy with Cowardice Count Wisdom of no moment in the War, In brief, esteem no Act, but that of hand; The still and thoughtful parts which move those hands With them are but the tasks cut out by fear To be perform'd by Valour.

Agam.

Let this be granted, and Achilles horse Is more of use then he: but you grave pair Like time and wisdome marching hand in hand Must put a stop to these incroaching Ills: To you we leave the eare: You who cou'd show whence the distemper springs Must vindicate the Dignity of Kings.

Exeunt.

SCENE II. Troy.

Enter Pandarus, and Troilus.

Troil.

Why should I fight without the Trojan walls Who, without fighting, am ore 'thrown within: The Trojan who is Master of a Soul Let him to battel, Troilus has none.

Pand.

Will this never be at an end with you?

Troil.

The Greeks are strong and skillful to their strength Fierce to their skill, and to their feirceness wary; But I am weaker then a Womans tear, Tamer then sleep, fonder then Ignorance: And Artless as unpractic'd Infancy.

Pand.

Well, I have told you enough of this; for my part I'll not meddle nor make any further in your Love: He that will eat of the Roastmeat, must stay for the kindling of the fire.

Troil.

Have I not stay'd?

Pand.

I, the kindling: but you must stay the spitting of the meat.

Troil.

Have I not stay'd?

Pand.

I, the spitting: but there's two words to a bargain: you must stay the roasting too.

Troil.

Still have I stay'd: and still the farther off.

Pand.

That's but the roasting, but there's more in this word stay; there's the taking off the Spitt, the making of the sawce, the dishing, the setting on the Table, and the saying Grace; nay you must stay the cooling too, or you may chance to burn your chaps.

Troil.

At Priams table pensive do I sit, And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts (Can she be say'd to come, who ne're was absent!)

Pand.

Well, she's a most ravishing creature; and she look'd Yester∣day most killingly, she had such a stroke with her eyes, she cut to the quick with every glance of e'm.

Troil.

I was about to tell thee, when my heart Was ready with a sigh to cleave in two Lest Hector, or my Father should perceive me, I have with mighty anguish of my Soul Just at the Birth stifled this still-born-sigh And forc'd my face into a painful smile.

Pand.

I measur'd her with my girdle Yesterday, she's not half a yard about the waste, but so taper a shape did I never see, but when I had her in my arms, Lord thought I, and by my troth I could not forbear sighing, if Prince Troilus had her at this advantage, and I were holding

of the door.—And she were a thought taller, but as she is, she wants not an Inch of Hellen neither; but there's no more comparison between the Women—there was wit, there was a sweet tongue: How her words melteth in her mouth! Mercury wou'd have been glad to have had such a tongue in his mouth I warrant him.

I wou'd some body had heard her talk Yesterday, as I did:

Troil.

Oh Pandarus, when I tell thee I am mad In Cressid's Love, thou answer'st she is fair; Praisest her eyes, her stature and her wit; But praising thus, instead of oyl and balme, Thou lay'st in every wound her Love has giv'n me The Sword that made it.

Pand.

I give her but her due.

Troil.

Thou give'st her not so much.

Pand.

Faith Ile speak no more of her, let her be as she is: If she be a beauty 'tis the better for her, and she be not She has the mends in her own hands for Pandarus.

Troil.

In spight of me thou wilt mistake my meaning.

Pand.

I have had but my labour for my pains, Ill thought on of her, and ill thought on of you: Gone between and between, and am ground in the Millstones For my Labour.

Troil.

What art thou angry Pandarus with thy friend?

Pand.

Because she's my Niece, therefore she's not so fair as Hellen, and she were not my Niece, show me such another piece of Womans flesh; take her limb by limb, I say no more, but if Paris had seen her first, Menelaus had been no Cuckold: but what care I if she were a Black-moore, what am I the better for her face.

Troil.

Say'd I she was not beautiful.

Pand.

I care not if you did, she's a fool to stay behind her Father Calchas, let her to the Greeks; and so I'le tell her: for my part I am resolute, I'le meddle no more in your affairs.

Troil.

But hear me!

Pand.

Not I.

Troil.

Dear Pandarus—

Pand.

Pray speak no more on't, Ile not burn my fingers in another bo∣dy's business, I'le leave it as I found it, & there's an end.

[Exit Pandarus.

Troil.

O Gods, how do you torture me? I cannot come to Cressid but by him, And he's as peevish to be woo'd to wooe, As she is to be won.

Enter Aeneas.

Aeneas.

How now, Prince Troilus; why not in the battle?

Troil.

Because not there, this Womans answer suites me;

For Womannish it is to be from thence▪ What news Aeneas from the field to day?

Aen.

Paris is hurt.

Troil.

By whom?

Aen.

By Menelaus. Hark what good sport

Alarum within▪

Is out of Town to day, when I hear such Musick I cannot hold from dancing.

Troil.

I'le make one, And try to lose an anxious thought or two In heat of action.

[Aside]

Thus Coward-like from love to War I run, Seek the less dangers, and the greater shun.

[Exit Troil.

Enter Cressida.

Cressid.

My Lord Aeneas, who were those went by? I mean the Ladys!

Aen.

Queen Hecuba, and Helien.

Cressi.

And whither go they?

Aen.

Up to the Western Tower. Whose height commands as subject, all the vale; To see the battle, Hector whose patience Is fix'd like that of Heav'n, to day was mov'd: He chid Andromache, and strook his Armourer, And as there were good Husbandry in War, Before the Sun was up he went to field; Your pardon Lady that's my business too.

Exit Aeneas.

Cressi.

Hectors a gallant Wariour.

Enter Pandarus.

Pand.

What's that, what's that!

Cressi.

Good morrow Uncle Pandarus.

Pand.

Good morrow Cousin Cressida: when were you at Court?

Cressi.

This morning Uncle!

Pand.

What were you a talking when I came? was Hector arm'd, And gone ere ye came? Hector was stirring early.

Cressi.

That I was talking of; and of his anger!

Pand.

Was he angry say you? true he was so, and I know the cause: He was struck down yesterday in the battle, but he'll lay about him; he'll cry quittance with 'em to day I'le answer for him: and there's Troilus will not come far behind him; let 'em take heed of Troilus, I can tell 'em that too.

Cressi.

What was he struck down too?

Pand.

Who, Troilus? Troilus is the betterman of the two.

Cressi.

Oh jupiter! there's no comparison, Troilus the better man!

Pand.

What ▪ no comparison between Hector and Troilus? do you know a man if you see him?

Cressi.

No, for he may look like a man, and not be one.

Pand.

Well, I say Troilus is Troilus.

Cressi.

That's what I say, for I am sure he is not Hector.

Pand.

No, nor Hector is not Troilus, make your best of that Neece!

Cressi.

Tis true, for each of 'em is himself.

Pand.

Himself! alas poor Troilus! I wou'd he wer himself, welk the Gods are all sufficient, and time must mend or end: I wou'd he were himself, and wou'd I were a Lady for his sake. I would not answer for my Maidenhead,—No, Hector is not a better man than Troilus.

Cressi.

Excuse me.

Pand.

Pardon me: Troilus is in the bud; 'tis early day with him, you shall tell me another tale when Troilus is come to bearing: and yet he'll not bear neither is some sence. No, Hector shall never have his virtues.

Cressi.

No matter.

Pand.

Nor his beauty, nor his fashion, nor his wit, he shall have nothing of him.

Cressi.

They would not become him, his own are better.

Pand.

How, his own better! you have no judgment Neece, Hellen her self swore tother day, that Troilus for a manly brown complexion, (for so it is, I must confess;) not brown neither.

Cressi.

No, but very brown.

Phnd.

Faith to say truth, brown and not brown: come I swear to you, I think Hellen loves him better then Paris: Nay I'm sure she does, she comes me to him tother day, into the bow window, and you know Troilus has not above three or four hairs on his chin.

Cressi.

That's but a bare commendation.

Pand.

But to prove to you that Hellen loves him, she comes, and puts me her white hand to his cloven chin!

Cressi.

Has he been fighting then, how came it cloven?

Pand.

Why, you know it is dimpled. I cannot choose but laugh to think how she tickled his cloven chin: She has a marvellous white hand I must needs confess.

But let that pass, for I know who has a whiter: Well Cousin I told you a thing yesterday, think on't, think on't.

Cressi.

So I do Uncle.

Pand.

I'le besworn 'tis true; he will weep ye, and 'twere a man born in April.

[A Retreat sounded.

Hark, they are returning from the field; shall we stay and see 'em as they come by, sweet Neece do, sweet Neece Cressida.

Cressi.

For once you shall command me.

Pand.

Here, here, here's an excellent place; we may see 'em here most bravely, and I'le tell you all their names as they pass by: but mark Troilus above the rest, mark Troilus, he's worth your marking.

Aeneas passes over the Stage.

Cressi.

Speak not so loud then.

Pand.

That's Aeneas, Is't not a brave man that, he's a swinger, many a Grecian he has laid with his face upward; but mark Troilus, you shall see anon.

Enter Anthenor, passing.

That's Anthenor, he has a notable head-peece I can tell you, and he's the ablest man for judgment in all Troy, you may turn him loose i' faith, and by my troth a proper person: When comes Troilus? I'le show you Troilus anon, if he see me, you shall see him nod at me.

Hector passes over.

That's Hector, that, that, look you that, there's a fellow, go thy way Hector, there's a brave man Neece: O brave Hector, look how he looks! there's a countenance! is't not a brave man Neece?

Cressi.

I always told you so.

Pand.

Is a not? it does a mans heart good to look on him, look you, look you there, what hacks are on his Helmet! this was no boys play i'faith, he laid it on with a vengeance, take it off whose who's will as they say! there are hacks Neece!

Cressi.

Were those with Swords.

Pand.

Swords, or Bucklers, Faulchions, Darts, and Lances! any thing he cares not! and the devil come 'tis all one to him, by Jupiter he looks so terribly that I am half afraid to praise him.

Enter Paris.

Yonder comes Paris, yonder comes Paris, lookye yonder Neece; is't not a brave young Prince too! He draws the best bow in all Troy, he hits you to a span twelvescore level; who said he came home hurt to day: why this will do Hellen's heart good now! Ha! that I cou'd see Troilus now!

Enter Helenus.

Cressi.

Who's that black man Uncle?

Pand.

That's Helenus, I marvel where Troilus is all this while? that's Helenus, I think Troilus went not forth to day; that's Helenus.

Cressi.

Can Helenus fight Uncle?

Pand.

Helenus! No, yes, he'll fight indifferently well, I marvel in my heart what's become of Troilus? Hark! do you not hear the people cry Troilus? Helenus is a Priest and keeps a whore; he'll fight for's whore, or he's no true Priest I warrant him.

Enter Troilus passing over.

Cressi.

What sneaking fellow comes yonder?

Pand.

Where, yonder! that's Deiphobus: No I lye, I lye, that's Troilus, there's a man Neece! hem! O brave Troilus! the Prince of chivalry, and flower of fidelity!

Cressi.

Peace, for shame peace.

Pand.

Nay but mark him then! O brave Troilus! there's a man of men Neece! look you how his Sword is bloody, and his Helmet more hack'd then Hectors, and how he looks, and how he goes! O admirable youth! he nere saw two and twenty. Go thy way Troilus, go thy way! had I a sister were a grace, and a daughter a Goddesse, he shou'd take his choice of 'em, O admirable man! Paris! Paris is dirt to him, and I warrant Hellen to change, wou'd give all the shooes in her shop to boot.

Enter Common Souldiers passing over.

Cressi.

Here come more.

Pand.

Asses, fools dolts, dirt and dung, stuff and lumber: por∣redg after meat? but I cou'd live and dye with Troilus. Nere look Neece, nere look, the Lyons are gone; Apes and Monkeys, the fag end of the creation. I had rather be such a man as Troilus, then Aga∣memnon and all Greece.

Cressi.

There's Achilles among the Greeks, he's braveman!

Pand.

Achilles! a Carman, a beast of burden; a very Camel, have you any eyes Neece, do you know a man! is he to be compar'd with Troilus!

Enter Page.

Page.

Sir, my Lord Troilus wou'd instantly speak with you.

Pand.

Where boy, where!

Page.

At his own house, if you think convenient.

Pand.

Good boy tell him I come instantly, I doubt he's wounded, farewell good Neece: But I'le be with you by and by.

Cressi.

To bring me Uncle!

Pand.

I, a token from Prince Troilus.

Cressi.

By the same token you are a procurer Uncle.

[Exit Pandarus.

Cressida alone.

A strange dissembling Sex we Women are, Well may we men, when we our selves deceive. Long has my secret Soul lov'd Troilus. I drunk his praises from my Uncles mouth, As if my ears cou'd nere be satisfi'd; Why then, why said I not, I love this Prince? How cou'd my tongue conspire against my heart, To say I lov'd him not, O childish love! 'Tis like an Infant froward in his play▪ And what he most desires, he throws away.

[Exit Cressida.

ACT II. SCENE I. Troy.

Priam, Hector, Troilus, Aeneas.

Priam.

AFter th' expence of so much time and blood, Thus once again the Grecians send to Troy. Deliver Hellen, and all other loss Shall be forgotten Hector, what say you to't?

Hect.

Though no man less can fear the Greeks then I, Yet there's no Virgin of more tender heart More ready to cry out, who knows the consequence, Then Hector is; for modest doubt is mix'd With manly courage best, let Hellen go. If we have lost so many lives of ours, To keep a thing not ours; not worth to us The vallue of a man, what reason is there Still to retain the cause of so much ill?

Troil.

Fy, fy, my noble Brother! Weigh you the worth and honour of a King, So great as Asia's Monarch in a scale Of common ounces thus? Are fears and reasons fit to be consider'd, When a Kings fame is question'd?

Hect.

Brother, she's not worth What her defence has cost us.

Troil.

What's ought but as 'tis vallued?

Hect.

But vallue dwels not in opinion only: It holds the dignity and estimation, As well, wherein 'tis precious of it self. As in the prizer, 'tis Idolatry To make the Service greater than the God.

Troil.

We turn not back the Silks upon the Merchant When we have worn 'em: the remaining food Throw not away because we now are full. If you confess 'twas wisedome Paris went, As you must needs; for you all cry'd go, go, If you'll confess he brought home noble prize As you must needs, for you all clapt your hands, And cry'd inestimable: why do you now So underrate the vallue of your purchase? For let me tell you 'tis unmanly theft When we have taken what we fear to keep!

Aene.

There's not the meanest Spirit in our party

Without a heart to dare, or Sword to draw, When Hellen is defended: none so noble Whose life were ill bestowed, or death unfam'd, When Helleu is the Subject.

Priam.

So says Paris. Like one besotted on e••••eminate joys, He has the honey still, but these the gall.

Aeneas.

He not proposes meerly to himself The pleasures such a beauty brings with it: But he wou'd have the stain of Hellen's rape Wip'd off in honourable keeping her.

Hect.

Troilus and Aeneas you have sayd: If saying superficiall things be reason. But if this Hellen be anothers wife, The Morall laws of Nature and of Nation's Speak loud she be restor'd: thus to persist In doing wrong, extenuates not wrong, But makes it much more so: Hectors opinion Is this, is in way of truth: yet ne'retheless My sprightly Brother I encline to you In resolution to defend her still: For 'tis cause on which our Trojan honour And common reputation will depend.

Troil.

Why there you touch'd the life of our designe: Were it not glory that we covet more Then war and vengeance (beasts and womens pleasure) I wou••d not wish a drop of Trojan blood Spent more in her defence: But oh my Brother She is a subject of renoun and honour, And I presume brave Hector wou'd not lose The rich advantage of his future fame For the wide worlds revenew:—I have business; But glad I am to leave you thus resolv'd. When such arms strike, ne're doubt of the success.

Aeneas.

May we not guesse?

Troil.

You may, and be deceiv'd.

[Exit. Troil.

Hect.

A woman on my life: ev'n so it happens, Religion, state affairs, whater'es the theme It ends in women still.

Enter Andromache.

Priam.

See here's your wife To make that maxim good.

Hect.

Welcome Andromache: your looks are cheerfull; You bring some pleasing news.

Andro.

Nothing that's serious. Your little Son Astyanax has employ'd me As his Ambassadresse.

Hect.

Upon what errand?

Andro.

No less then that his Grandfather this day Would make him, Knight: he longs to kill a Grecian: For shou'd he stay to be a man, he thinks Youll kill 'em all; and leave no work for him.

Priam.

Your own blood, Hector.

Andro.

And therefore he designes to send a challenge To Agamemnon, Ajax, or Achilles To prove they do not well to burn our fields; And keep us coop'd like prisner's in a Town: To lead this lazy life.

Hect.

What sparks of honour Fly from this child! the God's speak in him sure: —It shall be so—I'le do't.

Priam.

What means my Son?

Hect.

To send a challenge to the boldest Greek; Is not that Country ours? those fruitfull Fields Wash'd by yo•• Silver flood, are they not ours? Those teeming Vines that tempt our longing eyes, Shall we behold e'm? shall we call e'm ours And date not make e'm so? by Heavens I'le know Which of these haughty Grecians, dares to think He can keep Hector prisner here in Troy.

Priam.

If Hector only were a private Man, This wou'd be courage, but in him 'tis madness. The generall safety on your life depends; And sho••'d you perish in this rash attempt

Troy

with a groan, would feel her Soul go out: And breath her last in you.

Aeneas.

The task you undertake is hazardous: Suppose you win, what wou'd the profit be? If Ajax or Achilles fell beneath Your thundring Arm, wou'd all the rest depart? Wou'd Agamemnon, or his injur'd Brother Set sayl for this? then it were worth your danger: But, as it is, we throw our utmost stake Against whole heaps of theirs.

Priam.

He tells you true.

Aeneas.

Suppose one, Ajax, or Achilles lost. They can repair with more that single lose:

Troy

has but one, one Hector.

Hect.

No Aeneas?

What then art thou; and what is Troilus? What will Astyanax be?

Priam.

An Hector one day. But you must let him live to be a Hector. And who shall make him such when you are gone? Who shall inst••nct his tenderness in arms, Or give his childhood lessons of the war? Who shall defend the promise of his youth And make it bear in Manhood? the young Sappling Is shrowded long beneath the Mother tree Before it be transplanted from its Earth, And trust it self for growth.

Hect.

Alas, my Father! You have not drawn one reason from yourself, But publick safety, and my Sons green years: In this neglecting that main argument Trust me you chide my filiall piety: As if I cou'd be won from my resolves By Troy, or by my Son, or any name More dear to me than yours.

Praim.

I did not name my self; because I know When thou art gone, I need no Grecian Sword, To help me dye, but only Hectors loss. Daughter, why speak not you? why stand you silent? Have you no right in Hector, as a wife?

Andro.

I would be worthy to be Hectors wife: And had I been a Man, as my Soul's one I had aspir'd a nobler name, his friend. How I love Hector, (need I say I love him?) I am not but in him: But when I see him arming for his Honour, His Country and his Gods, that martial fire That mounts his courage, kindles ev'n to me▪ And when the Trojan Matrons wait him out With pray'rs, and meet with blessings his return; The pride of Virtue, beats within my breast, To wipe away the sweat and dust of War: And dress my Heroe, glorious in his wounds.

Hect.

Come to my Arms, thou manlier Virtue come; Thou better Name than wife! wou'dst thou not blush

[Embrace.

To hug a coward thus?

Priam.

Yet still I fear!

Andro.

There spoke a woman, pardon Royal Sir; Has he not met a thousand lifted Swords, Of thick rank'd Grecians, and shall one affright him?

There's not a day but he encounters Armles; And yet as safe, as if the broad brim'd Shield That Pallas wears, were held 'twixt him and death.

Hect.

Thou knowst me well; and thou shalt praise me more, Gods make me worthy of thee!

Andro.

You shall be My Knight this day, you fhall not wear a cause So black as Hellens rape upon your breast, Let Paris fight for Hellen; guilt for guilt, But when you fight for Honour and for me, Then let our equal Gods behold an Act, They may not blush to Crown.

Hect.

Aeneas go. And bear my Challenge to the Grecian Camp, If there be one amongst the best of Greece, Who holds his honour higher then his ea••e, Who knows his valour, and knows not his fear; Who loves his Mistress more then in confession: And dares avow her beauty and her worth, In other Arms then hers; to him this Challenge. I have a Lady of more truth and beauty, Then ever Greek did compass in his arms: And will to morrow, with the Trumpets call, Mid-way, between their Tents, and these our Walls, Maintains what I have said, if any come My Sword shall honour him, if none shall dare, Then shall I say at my return to Troy, The Grecian dames, are Sun-burnt, and not worth The splinter of a Lance.

Aeneas.

It shall be told 'em, As boldly as you gave it.

Priam.

Heav'n protect thee.

[Exeunt Omnes.

SCENE II.

Pandarus, Cressida.

Pand.

YOnder he stands poor wretch! there stands he, with such a look, and such a face, and such begging eyes; there he stands poor prisoner.

Cressi.

What a deluge of words do you pour out Uncle, to say just nothing?

Pand.

Nothing do you call it, is that nothing, do you call it nothing? why he looks for all the World, like one of your rescally Malefactors, just thrown off the Gibbet, with his cap down, his arms ty'd down, his feet sprunting, his body swinging, nothing do you call it? this is nothing with a vengeance.

Cressi.

Or, what think you of a hurt bird, that flutters about with a broken wing?

Pand.

Why go to then, he cannot fly away then, then, that's certain, that's undoubted: there he lies to be taken up: but if you had seen him, when I said to him, take a good heart man, and follow me: and fear no colours, and speak, your mind man: she can never stand you: she will fall, and 'twere a leaf in Autumn.

Cress.

Did you tell him all this without my consent?

Pand.

Why you did consent, your eyes consented; they blab'd, they leer'd, their very corners blabb'd. But you'll say your tongue sayd no∣thing. No I warrant it: your tongue was wiser; your tongue was bet∣ter bred: your tongue kept its own counsell: Nay, I'le say that for you, your tongue sayd nothing. Well such a shamefac'd couple did I never see days o' my life: so fraid of one another; such ado to bring you to the business: well if this job were well over, if ever I lose my pains again wtth an awkard couple, let me be painted in the signe-post for the Labour in vain: fye upon't, fye upon't; there's no conscience in't: all honest people will cry shame on't.

Cress.

Where is this Monster to be shown? what's to be given for a Sight of him?

Pand

Why ready money, ready money; you carry it about you: give and take is square-dealing; for in my conscience he's as errant a maid as you are: •• was fain to use violence to him, to pull him hither: and he pull'd and I pull'd: for you must know he's absolutely the strongest youth in Troy: to'ther day he took Hellen is one hand, and Paris in to'ther, and danc'd 'em at one another at arms-end, and 'twere two Moppets: there was a back, there were bone and Sinnews: there was a back for you.

Cressi.

For these good procuring Offices you'l be damn'd one day Uncle.

Pand.

Who I damn'd? faith I doubt I shall: by my troth I think I shall, nay if a man be damn'd for doing good, as thou saist, it may go hard with me.

Cressi.

Then I'le not see Prince Troilus? ••e not be accessary to your damnation.

Pand.

How, not see Prince Troilus? why I have engag'd, I have promis'd, I have past my word, I care not for damning, let me alone for damning; I vallue not damning in comparison with my word. If I am damn'd it shall be a good damning to thee girl, thou shalt be my

heir, come 'tis a virtuous girl, thou shalt help me t•• keep my word, thou shalt see Prince Troilus.

Cressi.

The ventures great.

Pand.

No venture in the World, thy Mother ventur'd it for thee, and thou shalt venture it for my little Cousin that must be.

Cressi.

Weigh but my fears, Prince Troilus is young.—

Pand.

Marry is he, there's no fear in that I hope, the fear were if he were old and feeble.

Cressi.

And I a woman.

Pand.

No fear yet, thouart a Woman, and he's a Man, put them two together, put 'em together.

Cressi.

And if I shou'd be frail.—

Pand.

There's all my fear that thou art not frail: thou shou'dst be frail, all flesh is frail.

Cressi.

Are you my Uncle, and can give this counsel to your own Brothers daughter.

Pand.

If thou wert my own daughter a thousand times over, I cou'd do no better for thee; what wou'dst thou have girl, he's a Prince and a young Prince, and a loving young Prince! an Uncle dost thou call me, by Cupid I am a father to thee; get thee in, get thee in girl, I hear him coming. And do you hear Neice! I give you leave,

[Eeit Cressida.

to deny a little 'twill be decent: but take heed of obstinacy, that's a vice; no obstinacy my dear Niece.

Enter Troylus.

Troil.

Now Pandarus.

Pand.

Now, my sweet Prince! have you seen my Niece? no I know you have not.

Troylus:

No Pandarus; I stalk about your doors Like a strange Soul upon the stygian banks Staying for waftage: O be thou my Charon, And give me a swift transportanee to Elysium, And fly with me to Cressida.

Pand.

Walk here a moment more: I'le bring her straight.

Troil.

I fear she will not come: most sure she will not.

Pand.

How not come, and I her Uncle! why I tell you Prince, she twitters at you. Ah poor sweet Rogue, ah little Rogue, now does she think, and think, and think again of what must be betwixt you two. Oh sweet,—oh sweet—O—what not come, and I her Uncle?

Troil.

Still thou flatter'st me; but prithee flatter still; for I wou'd hope; I wou'd not wake out of my pleasing dream: oh hope how sweet thou art! but to hope always, and have no effect of what we hope!

Pand.

Oh faint heart, faint heart! well there's much good matter in these old proverbs! No, she'll not come I warrant her; she has no

blood of mine in her, not so much as will fill a flea: but if she does not come, and come, and come with a swing into your arms, I say no more, but she has renounc'd all grace, and there's an end.

Troil.

I will believe thee: go then, but be sure:

Pand.

No, you wou'd not have me go; you are indifferent: shall I go say you: speak the word then:—yet I care not: you may stand in your own light; and lose a sweet young Ladies heart: well, I shall not go then!

Troil.

Fly, fly, thou tortur'st me.

Pand.

Do I so, do I so! do I torture you indeed! well I will go.

Troil.

But yet thou dost not go?

Pand.

I go immediately, directly, in a twinkling, with a thought. yet you think a man never does enough for you: I have been labour∣ing in your business like any Moyle. I was with Prince Paris this morn∣ing, to make your excuse at night for not supping at Court: and I found him, faith how do you think I found him; it does my heart good to think how I found him: yet you think a man never does enough for you.

Troil.

Will you go then, what's this to Cressida?

Pand.

Why you will not hear a Man; what's this to Cressida? why I found him abed, abed with Hellena by my troth: 'tis a sweet Queen, a sweet Queen, a very sweet Queen;—but she's nothing to my Cou∣sin Cressida; she's a blowse, a gipsie, a Tawney-moor to my Cousin Cressida: And she lay with one white arm underneath the whorsons neck: oh such a white, lilly white, round, plump arm it was—and you must know it was stript up to th'elbows: and she did so kisse him, and so huggle him:—as who shou'd say—

Troil.

But still thou stay'st: what's this to Cressida?

Pand.

Why I made your excuse to your Brother Paris; that I think's to Cressida; but such an arm, such a hand, such taper fingers, tother hand was under the bed-cloaths, that I saw not, I confess, that hand I saw not.

Troil.

Again thou tortur'st me.

Pand.

Nay I was tortur'd too; old as I am, I was tortur'd too: but for all that, I cou'd make a shift, to make him, to make your excuse, to make your father;—by Jove when I think of that hand, I am so ravish'd, that I know not what I say: I was tortur'd too.

[Troilus turns away discontented.

Well I go, I go; I fetch her, I bring her, I conduct her: not come quoth a, and I her Uncle!

Exit Pandarus.

Troilus.

Im'e giddy; expectation whirls me round: The imaginary relish is so sweet, That it enchants my sence; what will it be When I shall taste that Nectar? It must be either death, or joy too fine

For the capacity of human powers. I fear it much: and I do fear beside, That I shall lose distinction in my joys: As does a battle, when they charge on heaps A flying Enemy.

Re-enter Pandarus.

Pand.

She's making her ready: she'll come straight, you must be witty now; she does so blush, and fetches her breath so short, as if she were frighted with a spright: 'tis the prettiest villain, she fetches her breath so short, as 'twere a new ta'ne Sparrow.

Troil.

Just such a passion, does heave up my breast! My heart beats thicker than a feavourish pulse: I know not where I am, nor what I do: Just like a slave, at unawares encountring The eye of Majesty:—Leade on, I'le follow.

Exeunt together.

SCENE III. The Camp.

Nestor, Ulysses.

Vlyss.

I have conceiv'd an embryo in my brain: Be you my time to bring it to some shape.

Nest.

What is't, Vlysses?

Ulyss.

The ••eeded pride, That has to this maturity▪ blow•• up In rank Achilles, must or now be ••ropt, Or shedding, breed a nursery of ••ike ill, To overtop us all.

Nest.

That's my opinion.

Vlyss.

This challenge which 〈◊〉〈◊〉 as brings from Hector, However it be spred in general terms, Relates in purpose only to Achilles. And will it wake him to the answer think you?

Nest.

It ought to do: whom can we else oppose Who do••'d from Hector bring his honour off, If not Achilles the Successe of this Although particular, will give an Omen Of good or bad, ev'n to the general cause.

〈◊〉〈◊〉

Pardon me Nestor, if I contradict you. Therefore 'tis fit Achilles meet not 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Let us like Merchants show our coursest 〈◊〉〈◊〉, And think perchance 〈…〉〈…〉 The lustre of our better yet unshown Will show the better; let us not 〈◊〉〈◊〉

Our greatest warriour shou'd be match'd with Hector. For both our honour and our shame in this, Shall be attended with strange followers.

Nest.

I see e'm not with my old eyes; what are they?

Vlyss.

What glory our Achilles gains from Hector. Were he not proud we all should share with him: But he already is too insolent: And we had better parch in A••••rick Sun Than in his pride, shou'd he scape Hector fair. But grant he shou'd be foyl'd Why then our common reputation suffers, In that of our best Man: No, make a Lottery; And by device let blockish Ajax draw The chance to fight with Hector: among our selves Give him allowance as the braver Man; For that will physick the great Myrmidon, Who swells with loud applause; and make him fall His Crest, if brainless Ajax come safe off. If not, we yet preserve a fair opinion, That we have better men.

Nest.

Now I begin to relish thy advice: Come let us go to Agamemnon straight, T'inform him of our project.

Vlyss.

'Tis not ripe. The skilfull Surgeon will not lanch a sore Till Nature has digested and prepar'd The growing humours to his healing purpose. Else must he often grieve the patients sence, When one incision once well-time'd woul'd serve: Are not Achilles, and dull Ajax friends?

Nest.

As much as fools can be.

Vlyss.

That knot of friendsip first must be unty'd Ere we can reach our ends; for while they love each other Both hating us, will draw too strong a byasse, And all the Camp will lean that way they draw: For brutall courage is the Soldiers Idoll: So, if one prove contemptuous, back'd by to'ther, 'Twill give the law to cool and sober sence, And place the power of war in Mad-mens hands.

Nest.

Now I conceive you; were they once divided, And one of them made ours, that one would check The others towring growth: and keep both low, As Instruments, and not as Lords of war. And this must be by secret coals of envy, Blown in their brest: comparisons of worth;

Great actions weigh'd of each: and each the best, As we shall give him voice.

Vlyss.

Here comes Thersites.

Enter Thersites.

Who feeds on Ajax: yet loves him not, because he cannot love. But as a Species, differing from mankinde, Hatss all he sees; and rails at all he knows; But hates them most, from whom he most receives. Disda••ing that his lot shou'd be so low. That he shou'd want the kindeness which he takes.

Nest.

There's none so fit an Engine: Save ye Thersites.

Vlyss.

Hayl noble Grecian, Thou relief of toyls, Soul of our mirth, and joy of sullen war. In whose converse our winter-nights are short, And Summer-days not tedious.

Thers.

Hang you both.

Nest.

How hang us both!

Thers.

But hang thee first, thou very reverend fool! Thou sapless Oke, that liv'st by wanting thought. And now in thy three hundreth year repin'st Thou should'st be fell'd: hanging's a civil death, The death of men: thou canst not hang: thy trunk Is only fit for gallows to hang others.

Nest.

A fine greeting.

Thers.

A fine old Dotard, to repine at hanging At such an Age! what saw the Gods in thee That a Cock-Sparrow shou'd but live three years, And thou shoud'st last three Ages! he's thy better; He uses life: he treads himself to death. Thou hast forgot thy use some hundred years: Thou stump of Man, thou worn-out broom: thou lumber.

Nest.

I'le hear no more of him, his poyson works; What curse me for my age!

Vlyss.

Hold, you mistake him, Nestor; 'tis his custome: What malice is there in a mirthfull scene! 'Tis but a keen-edg'd Sword, spread o're with blame To heal the wound it makes:

Thers.

Thou beg'st a curse! May'st thou quit scores then, and be hang'd on Nestor, Who hangs on thee: thou lead'st him by the nose: Thou paly'st him like a puppet; speak'st within him, And when thou hast contirv'd some dark design To loose a thousand Greeks; make dogs meat of us, Thou layst thy Cuckows egg within his nest,

And mak'st him hatch it: teachest his remembrance To lye; and say, the like of it was practis'd Two hundred years ago; thou bring'st the brain; And he brings only beard to vouch thy plots;

Nest▪

I'me no mans fool.

Thers.

Then be thy own, that's worse.

Nest.

He'll rail all day.

Vlyss.

Then we shall learn all day. Who forms the body to a gracefull carriage Must imitate our awkard motions first; The same prescription does the wise Thersites Apply to mend our minds. The same he uses To Ajax, to Achilles; to the rest; His Satyrs are the phyfick of the Camp.

Thers.

Wou'd they were poyson to't, Rats-bane and Hemlock: Nothing else can mend you; and those two brawny fools.

Vlyss.

He hits e'm right: Are they not such my Nestor?

Thers.

Dolt-heads, Asses. And beasts of burthen; Ajax and Achilles! The pillars, no, the porters of the war. Hard-headed Rogues! Engines, meer wooden Engines, Push'd on to do your work.

Nest.

They are indeed.

Thers.

But what a Rogue art thou To say they are indeed: Heaven made e,m horses And thou put'st on their harnesse: rid'st and spur'st e'm: Usurp'st upon heav'ns fools, and mak'st e'm thine.

Nest.

No: they are headstrong fools to be corrected By none but by Thersites: thou alone Canst tame, and train e'm to their proper use; And doing this mayst claim a just reward From Greece, and Royall Agamemnons, hands.

Thers.

Ay, when you need a man, you talk of giving; For wit's a dear commodity among you: But when you do not want him, then stale porridge, A starv'd dog wou'd not lap; and furrow water Is all the wine we taste, give drabs and pimps: He have no gifts with hooks at end of e'm.

Vlyss.

Is this a Man, O Nestor to be bought! Asia's not price enough! bid the world for him. And shall this man, this Hermes, this Apollo, Sit lagg of Ajax table? almost minstrell, And with his presence grace a brainless feast? Why they con sence from him grow wits by rote,

And yet, by ill repeating, libell hi••••▪ Making his wit their nonsence: nay they scorn him; Call him bought rayler, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 tongue! Play him for sport at meals▪ and kick him off.

Thers.

Yes they can kick; my buttocks feel they can: They have their Asses tricks: but I'Ie eat pebbles, Ile starve;'tis brave to starve, 'tis like a Soldier; Before I'Ie feed those wit-starv'd rogues with sence▪ They shall eat dry, and choke for want of wit, Ere they be moisten'd with one drop of mine. Ajax, and Achilles, two mudd-walls of fool, That only differ in degrees of thicknesse.

Vlyss.

I'de be reveng'd of both, when wine ••umes high, Set e'm to prate, to boast their brutall strength, To vye their stupid courage, till they quarrell And play at hard-head with their empty Skulls.

Thers.

Yes; they shall but and kick; and all the while Ile think they kick for me: they shall fell timber On both sides; and then log-wood will be cheap.

Nest.

And Agamemnon—

Thers.

Pox of Agamemnon; Cannot I do a mischief for my self But he must thank me for't!

Vlyss. to Nestor.

Away; our work is done.

Exeunt Vlysses, Nestor.

Th••rs.

This Agamemnon is a King of clouts: A chip in porredge.

Enter Ajax.

Ajax.

Thersites!

Thers.

Set up to frighten Daws from Cherry trees.

Ajax.

Dogg!

Thers.

A standard to march under!

Ajax.

Thou bitch-woolf! canst thou not hear! feel then.

Strikes him.

Thers.

The plague of Greece, and Hellens Pox light on thee, Thou mungrill masti••••e; thou beef-witted Lord.

Ajax.

Speak then, thou mouldy leaven of the Camp. Speak or Ile beat thee into handsomeness.

Thirs.

I shall sooner rayle thee into wit: thou canst kick, can't thou? A red murrayn on thy Jades tricks!

Ajax.

Tell me the Proclamation:

Thers.

Thou art proclaim'd a fool I think.

Ajax.

You whorson Cur take that.

[Strikes him.

Thers.

Thou Scurvy valiant Asse.

Ajax.

Thou slave.

Thers.

Thou Lord!—I, do, do,—wou'd my buttocks were Iron for thy sake.

Enter Achilles. Patroclus.

Achill.

Why how now Ajax! wherefore do you this? How now Thersites, what's the matter man!

Thers.

I say this Ajax wears his wit in's belly, and his guts in brains.

Achill.

Peace fool.

Thers.

I wou'd have peace; but the fool will not.

Prtrocl.

But what's the quarrell!

Ajax.

I bad him tell me the proclamation, and he rails upon me.

Thers.

I serve thee not:

Ajax.

I shall cut out your tongue!

Thers.

'Tis no matter; I shall speak as much sence as thou afterwards: Ile see you hang'd ere I come any more to your Tent: Ile keep where theres wit stirring, and leave the faction of fools.—

[going.

Achill.

Nay, thou shalt not go Thersites, till we have squees'd the venome out of thee: prithee inform us of this Proclamation.

Thers.

Why you empty ••uz-balls, your heads are full of nothing else but Proclamatio••s.

Ajax.

Tell us the news I say.

Thirs.

You say! why you never said any thing in all your life! But since you will know, 'tis proclam'd through the Army, that Hector is to cudgell you to morrow.

Achilles.

How cudgell him, Thersites!

Thers.

Nay, you may take a childs part ont if you have so much cou∣rage, for Hector has challeng'd the toughest of the Greeks: and ••tis in dispute which of your two heads is the sonndest timber.

A knotty piece of work he'••l have betwi••t your noddles,

Achill.

If Hector be to fight with any Greek••, He knows his Man.

Ajax.

Yes; he may know his man, without Art Magick.

Thers.

So he had need: ••or to my certain knowledge neither of you two are conjurers to inform him.

Achill.

to Ajax.

You do not mean your self, sure.

Ajax.

I mean nothing

Thers.

Thou mean'st so always.

Achill.

Umh! mean nothing!

Thers,

aside.

Jove if it be thy will, let 〈◊〉〈◊〉 two fools q••arrell about nothing: 'tis a cause that's worthy of'em.

Ajax.

You say••d he knew his Man: is there 〈◊〉〈◊〉 one? One Man amongst the Greeks!

Achill.

Since you will have it, but one to fight with 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Ajax.

Then I am he;

Achill.

Weak Ajax.

Ajax.

Weak Achilles.

Thers.

Weak indeed: God help you both!

Patroc.

Come, this must be no quarrell.

Thers▪

There's no cause for't.

Patroc.

He tells you true; you are both equall

Thers.

Fools.

Achill.

I can brook no comparisons.

Ajax.

Nor I.

Achill.

Well Ajax.

Ajax.

Well Achilles.

Thers.

So now they quarrell in Monosyllables: A word and a blow, and't be thy will.

Achill.

You may hear more.

Ajax.

I wou'd.

Achill.

Expect,

Ajax.

Farewell.

Exeunt severally.

Thers.

Curse on them, they want wine: your tr••e fool will never fight without it. Or a drab a drab: Oh for a commodious Drabb betwixt 'em! wou'd Hell••n had been here! then it had come to something.

Dogs, Lyons, Bulls, for Females tear and gore: And the Beast Man, is valiant for his whore.

Exit Thersites.

ACT III. SCENE I.

Enter Thersites.

Thers.

SHall the Idiot Ajax use me thus! he beats me and I rail at him: O worthy satisfaction! wou'd I cou'd beat him, and he rail'd at me! Then there's Achilles, a rare Engineer: if Troy be not taken till these two undermine it, the walls will stand till they fall of themselves: Now the Plague on the whole Camp, or rather the Pox: for that's a curse dependent on those that sight as we do for a Cuckolds queen.— What ho, my Lord Achilles.

Enter Patroclus.

Patroc.

Who's there, Thersites! Good Thersites come in and rail.

Thers.

aside.

If I cou'd have remembred an Asse with gilt trappings, thou hadst not slip'd out of my contemplation. But 'tis no matter; thy self upon thy self: the common curse of manki••d, folly and ignorance be thine in great abundance: Heavens belsse thee from a Tutor; and discipline come not near thee.

I have said my prayers; and the devil Envy say Amen. Where's Achilles!

Enter Achilles.

Who's there Thersites! why my digestion, why hast thou not serv'd thy self to my table, so many meals! come begin what's Agamemnon?

Thers.

Thy Commander, Achilles: then tell me Pauroclus, what's Achilles?

Patro.

Thy Benefactor Thersites; then tell me prithee what's thy self?

Thers.

Thy knower, Patrcolus; then tell me, Patroclus, what art thou?

Patroc.

Thou mayst tell that know'st.

Achill.

O, tell, tell. This must be very foolish: aud I dye to have my spleen tickled.

Thers.

I'le decline the whole question. Agamemnon commands Achil∣les, Achilles is my Benefactor, I am Patroclus knower; and Patroclus is a fool.

Patroc.

You Rascal?

Achill.

He's a priviledge'd man, proceed Thersites. Ha! ha! ha! prithee proceed while I am in the vein of laughing.

Thersit.

And all thses foresaid men are fools: Agamemnon's a fool to offer to command Achilles: Achilles is a fool to be commanded by him, I am a fool to serve such a fool, and Patroclus is a fool positive.

Patroc.

Why am I a fool?

Thersi.

Make that demand to Heaven, it suffices me thou art one.

Achill.

Ha, ha, ha! O give me ribs of steel, or I shall split with pleasure: now play me Nestor at a Night alarm: Mimick him rarely, make him cough and spet, and fumble with his gorget, and shake the rivits with his palsey hand; in and out, in and out, gad that's exceed∣ing foolish.

Patroc.

Nestor shall not scape so, he has told us what we are; come what's Nestor?

Thersi.

Why he's an old wooden top, set up by father Time three hundred years ago, that hums to Agamemnon and Vlysses, and sleeps to all the world besides.

Achill.

So let him sleep for I'le no more of him: O my Patroclus, I but force a smile, Ajax has drawn the lot, and all the praise of Hector mu••t be his.

Thersi.

I hope to see his praise upon his shoulders, in blows and bruises, his arms, thighs, and body, all full of fame; such fame as he gave me, and a wide hole at last full in his bosome, to let in day upon him, and discover the inside of a fool.

Patroc.

How he struts in expectation of honour! he knows not what he does.

Thersi.

Nay that's no wonder, for he never did.

Achill.

Prithee say how he behaves himself?

Thersi.

O you would be learning to practice, against such another

time.—Why he tosses up his head as he had built Castles ith' ayr; and he treads upward to 'em, stalks into th'Element, he surveys him∣self, as 'twere to look for Ajax: he wou'd be cry'd, for he has lost himself, nay he knows no body; I said good morrow Ajax, and he replyed thanks Agamemnon.

Achill.

Thou shalt be my Ambassador to him Thersites.

Thersi.

No, I'le put on his person, let Patroclus make his demands to me, and you shall see the pageant of Ajax.

Achill.

To him Patroclus, tell him! humbly desire the valiant Ajax to invite the Noble Hector to my Tent: and to procure safe conduct for him from our Captain General Agamemnon.

Patroc.

Jove bless the mighty Ajax!

Thersi.

Humh!

Patroc.

I ••ome from the great Achilles.

Thersi.

Ha!

Patroc.

Who most humbly desires you to invite Hector to his Tent.

Thersi.

Humh!

Patroc.

And to procure him safe conduct from Agamemnon.

Thersi.

Agamemnon?

Patroc.

I, my Lord.

Thersi.

Ha!

Patro.

What say you to't?

Therst.

Farewell with all my heart.

Patroc.

Your answer Sir!

Thersi.

If to morrow be a fair day, by eleven a clock it will go one way or tother, however he shall buy me dearly, fare you well with all my heart.

Achill.

Why but he is not in this tune is he?

Thersi.

No, but he's thus out of tune, what Musick will be in him when Hector has knocked out his brains I know not, nor I care not, but if emptiness makes noise, his head will make melody.

Achill.

My minde is troubled like a Fountain stir'd: And I my self see not the bottom on't.

Thersi.

Wou'd the Fountain of his minde were clear; that he might see an Ass in't.

[Aside.]

I had rather be a tick in a sheep, than such a valiant ignorance.

Enter Agamemnon, Ajax, Diomedes, Menelaus.

Patroc.

Look who comes here.

Achill.

Patroclus, I'le speak with no body, come in after me Thersites.

Agam.

Where's Achilles!

[Exeunt Achill. Thersites.

Patro.

Within, but ill dispos'd my Lord.

Menel.

We saw him at the opening of his Tent.

Agam.

Let it be known to him that we are here.

Patroc.

I shall say so to him.

[Exit Patroclus.

Diom.

I know he is not ••ick.

Ajax.

Yes, Lyon sick, sick of a proud heart, you may call it melan∣choly; if yo'll humour him: but on my honour' tis no more than pride: a••d why shou'd he be proud?

Menel.

Here comes Patroclus; but no Achilles with him.

Enter Patroclus.

Patroc.

Achilles bids me tell you he is sorry If any thing more than your sport and pleasure Did move you to this visit: he's not well, And begs you wou'd excuse him, as unfit For present business.

Agam.

How! how's this Patroclus? We are too well acquainted with these answers. Though he has much desert, yet all his vertues Do in our eyes begin to lose their gloss. We came to speak with him; you shall not erre If you return we think him over-proud And under-honest. Tell him this; and adde, That if he over-hold his price so much We'll none of him: but let him like an Engine Not portable, lye lagg of all the Camp. A stirring Dwarf is of more use to us Then is a sleeping Gyant; tell him so.

Patroc.

I shall; and bring his answer presently.

Agam.

I'le not be satisfi'd but by himself. So tell him, Menelaus.

Exeunt Menelaus. Patroclus.

Ajax.

What's he more than another?

Agam.

No more than what he thinks himself.

Ajax.

••s he so much! do you not think he thinks himself a better Man than me?

Diom.

No doubt he does.

Ajax.

Do you think so?

Agam.

No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as valiant; but much more courteous.

Ajax.

Why shou'd a man be proud? I know not what pride is: I hate a proud man as I hate the ingendring of toads.

Diom.

Aside.

'Tis strange he should; and love himself so well.

Re-enter Menel.

Men.

Achilles will not to the field to morrow.

Agam.

What's his excuse?

Men.

Why he relies on none But his own will; possest he is with vanity: What shou'd I say, he is so plaguy proud That the death tokens of it are upon him; And bode there's no recovery.

Enter Ulysses, Nector.

Agam.

Let Ajax go to him.

Vlyss.

O Agamemnon, let it not be so. We'll consecrate the steps that Ajax makes When they go from Achill••s: shall that proud man Be worship'd by a greater than himself, One whom we hold our Idoll; Shall Ajax go to him? No, Jove forbid, And say in thunder, go to him Achilles.

Nest.

[Aside.]

O, this is well; he rubbs him where it itches.

Ajax.

If I go to him with my Gantlet clench'd, I'le dash him or'e the face.

Agam.

O no, you shall not go.

Ajax.

And'he ••e proud with me I'le cure his pride: a paltry Insolent fellow!

Nest.

How he describes himself?

Vliss.

Aside.

The crow chides blackness.—here is a man, but 'tis before his face, and therefore I am silent.

Nest.

Wherefore are you? He is not envious as Achilles is.

Vlyss.

Know all the world he is as valiant.

Ajax.

A ••horson dogg that shall palter thus with us! wou'd a were a Trojan.

Vlyss.

Thank Heav'n my Lord, you're of a gentle nature, Praise him that got you, her that brought you forth; But he who taught you first the use of Armes, Let Mars divide Eternity; in two, And give him half. I will not praise your wisedome. Nestor shall do't; but pardon father Nestor, Were you as green as Ajax, and your brain Temper'd like his, you never shou'd excell him; But be as Ajax is.

Ajax.

Shall I call you father?

Vlyss.

I, my good Son.

Diom.

Be rul'd by him Lord Ajax.

Vlyss.

There is no staying here; the Hart Achilles Keeps thicket, please it our great General. I shall impart a counsell, which observ'd May cure this Madmans pride.

Agam.

In my own tent our talk will be more private▪

Vlyss.

But nothing without Ajax: He is the soul and substance of my councels And I am but his shadow.

Ajax.

You shall see I am not like Achilles, Let us confer; and I'le give counsel too.

[Exeunt Omnes.

SCENE II.

Pandarus, Troilus, Cressida.

Pand.

Come, come, what need you blush? shame's a babie; swear the oathes now to her, that you swore to me: what are you gone again? you must be watch'd ere you are made tame must you? why don't you speak to her first!—Come draw this Curtain, and lets see your picture: alas a day, how loath you are to offend day∣light!— (they kisse) that's well, that's well, nay you shall fight your hearts out ere I part you.—so so—so so—

Troil.

You have bereft me of all words, fair Cressida.

Pand.

Words, pay no debts; give her deeds;—what billing again! here's in witness whereof the parties interchangeably—come in, come in, you lose time both.

Troil.

O Cressida, how often have I wish'd me here?

Cressi.

Wish'd my Lord!—the Gods grant! O my Lord.—

Troil.

What shou'd they grant? what makes this pretty interr••pti∣on in thy words?

Cressi.

speak I know not what!

Troil.

Speak ever so; and if I answer you I know not what, it shews the more of love. Love is a child that talks in broken language, Yet then he speaks most plain.

Cress.

I finde it true, that to be wise and love Are inconsistent things.

Pand.

what blushing still, have you not done talking vet!

Cress.

Well Unkle, what folly I commit, •• detdcate to you.

Pand.

I thank you for that: if my Lord get a boy of you, you'l give him me. Be true to my Lord, if he flinch Ile be hang'd for him— (Now am I in my kingdome!

[aside]

Troil.

You know your pledges now, your Unkles word and my firm faith.

Pand.

Nay Ile give my word for her too: our kindred are constant: they are burrs I can assure you, they'll stick where they are thrown.

Cress.

Boldness comes to me now, and I can speak: Prince Troylus, I have lov'd you long.

Troil.

Why was my Cressida then so hard to win?

Cress.

Hard to seem wonn; but I was wonn my Lord. What have I blabb'd, who will be true to us, When we are so unfaithfull to our selves! O bid me hold my tongue? for in this rapture. Sure I shall speak what I shou'd soon repent. But stop my mouth.

Troil.

A sweet command; and willingly obey'd.

[Kisses]

Pand.

Pretty I faith!

Cress.

My Lord I do be••eech you pardon me, 'Twas not my purpose thus to beg a kisse. I am asham'd: O heavens what have I done! For thts time let me take my leave, my Lord.

Pand.

Leave! and you take leave till to morrow morning, call me Cut.

Cress.

Pray let me go.

Troil,

Why what offends you, Madam?

Cress.

My own company.

Troil.

You cannot snun you self.

Cress.

Let me go and try: I have a kind of self resides in you.

Troil.

Oh that I thought truth cou'd be in a woman! (As if it can, I will presume in you) That my integrity and faith might meet The same return form her who has my heart. How shou'd I be exaltted! but alas I am more plain then dull simplicity! And art less, as the infancy of truth.

Cress.

In that I must not yield to you my Lord.

Troil.

All constant Lovers shall, in future Ages, Approve their truth by Troylus: when their verse Wants similes as turtles to their mates: Or true as flowing tides are to the Moon; Earth to the Center: Iron to Adamant: At last when truth is tir'd with repetition; As true as Troylus shall crown up the verse, And ••anctify the Numbers.

Cress.

Prophet my you be! If I am false, or swerve from truth of love, When time is old, and has forgot it self, In all things else, let it remember me; And after all comparisons of falshood To stabb the heart of perjury in Maids; Let it be said as false as Cressida.

Pand.

Go to, little ones: a bargain made: here I hold your hand, and here my Cousins: if ever you prove false to one another, after I have taken such pains to bring you together: let all pitifull goers between, be call'd to the worlds end after my name, Pandars.

Cress.

And will you promise that the holy Priest Shall make us one for ever!

Pand.

Priests! marry hang 'em! they make you one! go in, go in, and make your selves one without a priest: I'le have no priests work in my house.

Cress.

Ile not consent unless you swear.

Pand.

I, do, do, swear; a pretty woman's worth an oath at any time. Keep or break as time shall try; but 'tis good to swear, for the saving of her credit: Hang e'm sweet Rogues they never expect a Man shou'd keep it. Let him but swear, and that's all they care for.

Troil.

Heavens prosper me as I devoutly swear, Never to be but yours.

Pand.

Whereupon I will lead you into a chamber: and suppose there be a bed in't; as I fack, I know not: but you'll forgive me, if there be: away, away, you naughty hildings: get ye together, get you to∣gether. Ah you wags, do you l••er indeed at one another! do the neyes twinkle at him! get you together, get you together.

[Leads them out.

Enoter at one door Aeneas with a Torch, at another Hector, Diomede with Torches,

Hect.

So ho; who goes there? Aeneas!

Aeneas.

Prince Hector!

Diom.

Good morrow Lord Aeneas.

Hect.

A valiant Greek, Aeneas; take his hand; Witnesse the processe of your speech within; You told how Diomede a whole week by days Did haunt you in the field.

Aeneas.

Health to you, valiant Sir, During all business of the gentle truce; But when I meet you arm'd, as black defiance As heart can think, or courage execute.

Diom.

Both one and to ther, Diomede embraces. Our bloods are now in clam; and so, long health; But when contention, and occasion meets, By Jove I'le play the hunter for thy life,

Eneas.

And thou shalt hunt a Lyou that will fly With his face backward: welcome Diomede Welcome to Troy: now by Anchises Soul No man alive can love in such a sort The thing he means to kill, more excellently.

Diom.

We know eath other well.

Aene.

We do; and long to know each other worse To Hect. my Lord, the King has sent for me in haste: Know you the reason?

Hect.

Yes: his purpose meets you, It was to bring this Greek to Colchas's house.

Where Pandarus his Brother, and his Daughter Fair Cressida reside: and there to render For our Anthenor, now redeem'd from prison, The Lady Cressida:

Aene.

What! Has the King resolv'd to gratifie That Traytor Colchos; who forsook his Country, And turn'd to them, by giving up this pledge?

Hect.

The bitter disposition of the time Is such, though Colchos as a fugitive Deserve it not, that we must free Anthenor On whose wise Counsels, we can most rely: And therefore Cressida must be return'd.

Aene.

A word my Lord—(Your pardon Diomede) Your Brother Troylus, to my certain knowledg, Does lodge this night in Paudarus his house:

Hect.

Go you before: tell him of our approach Which will I fear be much Unwelcome to him.

Aene.

I assure you Troylus had rather Troy were born to Greece Than Cressida from Troy.

Hect.

I know it well: and how he is beside, Of hasty blood:

Aene.

He will not hear me speak: But I have noted long betwixt you two A more than Brothers love: an awfull homage The ••iery youth pays to your elder vertue.

Hect.

Leave it to me; I'le manage him alone: Attend you Diomede; My Lord good morrow:

[to Diomed.

An urgent business takes me from the pleasure Your company affords me; but Aeneas With joy will undertake to serve you here, And to supply my room.

Aeneas.

to Diomed.

My Lord I wait you.

Exeunt severally.

[Diomede with Aeneas; Hector at another door.

Enter Pandarus: a Servant: Musick.

Pand.

Softly, villain, softly; I would not for half Troy the Lo∣vers should be disturb'd under my roof; listen rogue, listen, do they breathe?

Serv.

Yes, Sir, I hear by some certain signes, the are both awaken.

Pand.

That's as it shou'd be that's well aboth sides.

[listens]

Yes faith they are both alive:—there was a creake! there was a creake: they are both alive and alive like; there was a creake: a ha boyes!—Is the musick ready?

Serv.

Shall they ••trike up Sir!

Pand.

Art thou sure they do not know the Parties?

Serv.

They play to the Man in the Moon for ought they know.

Pand.

To the Man in the Moon, ah Rogue! do they so indeed Rogue! I understand, thee: thou art a wag; thou art a wagg. Come towze rowze! in the name of love, strike up boys!

Musick. and then Song: during which Pandarus listens.

Song.

CAn life be a blessing, Or worth the possessing, Can life be a blessing if love were away? Ah no! though our love all night keep us waking, And though he torment us with cares all the day, yet he sweetens he sweetens our pains in the taking, There's an hour at the last, there's an hour to repay.

2.

In every possessi••g, The ravishing blessing, In every possessing the fruit of our pain, Poor lovers forget long ages of anguish, Whate're they have suffer'd and done to obtain; 'Tis a pleasure, a pleasure to sigh and to languish, When we hope, when we hope to be happy again.

Pand.

Put up, and vanish; they are coming out; what a ferrup, will you play when the dance is done? I say vanish.

Exit Musick.

Peeping.

Good Ifaith; good ifarth! what hand in hand!— a fair quarrell, well ended! do, do, walk him, walk him; A good girl, a discreet girl: I see she'll make the most of him.

Enter Troil. and Cressida.

Troil.

Farewell, my life! leave me and back to bed: Sleep ••eal those pretty eyes; And tye thy sences in as soft a band As Infants voyd of thought.

Pandar.

shewing himself.

How now, how now, how go matters! hear you Maid, hear you; where's my Cousin Cressida?

Cress.

Go hang your self you naughty mocking Unkle: You bring me to do ill and then you jeere me!

Pand.

What ill have I brought you to do? say what if you dare now! My Lord have I brought her to do ill?

Cress.

Come, come, beshrew your heart; you'll neither be good your self, nor suffer others.

Pand.

Alas poor wench; alas poor Devil; 〈…〉〈…〉? wou'd anot (a naughty Man) let it sleep one 〈…〉〈…〉 take him!

Knock. within.

Cress.

Who's that at door? good Uncle go and see: My Lord come you again into my chamber! You smile and mock as if I meant naughtily!

Troil.

Indeed, indeed!

Cress.

Come y'are deceiv'd; I think of no such thing:

Knock again.

How earnestly they knock, pray come in: I wou'd not for all Troy, you were seen here.

[Exeunt Troil. Cressida.

Pand.

Who's there! whats the matter! Will you beat down the house there!

Enter Hector.

Hect.

Good morrow my Lord Pandarus; good morrow!

Pand.

Who's there, Prince Hector! what news with you so early?

Hect.

Is not my Brother Troilus here?

Pand.

Here! what shou'd he do her••?

Hect.

Come he is here my Lord, do not deny him: It does import him much to speak with me.

Pand.

Is he here say you? 'tis more than I know, I'le be sworn! For my own part I came in late!—what shou'd he do here?

Hect.

Come, come you do him wrong ere y'are aware; you'll be so true to him, that you'll be false to him: you shall not know he's here; but yet go fetch him hither:—goe.

[Exit Pandarus.

Enter Troilus.

I bring you Brother, most unwelcome news; But since of force you are to hear it told, I thought a friend and Brother best might tell it: Therefore, befroe I speak, arm well your mind And think y'are to be touch'd dev'n to the quick; That so, prepar'd for ill you may be less Surpris'd to hear the worst.

Troil.

See Hector, what it is to be your Brother, I stand prepar'd already.

Hect.

Come, you are not, I know you Troilus, you are hot and fiery: You kindle at a wrong; and catch it quick As stubble does the flame.

Troil.

'Tis heat of blood And rashness of my youth. I'le mend that errour: Begin and try my temper.

Hect.

Can you think Of that one thing which most cou'd urge your anger Drive you to madness, plunge you in despair,

And make you hate ev'n me?

Troil.

There can be nothing. I love you Brother, with that awful love I bear to Heav'n, and to superior vert••e, And when I quit this love you must be that Which Hector near can be.

Hect.

Remember well What you have said: for when I claim your promise I shall expect performance.

Troil.

I am taught: I will not rage.

Hect.

Nor grieve beyond a man.

Troil.

I won not be a woamn.

Hect.

Do not Brother: And I will tell my news, in terms so mild, So tender, and so fearful to offend As Mothers use to sooth their froward Babes; Nay I will swear as you hve sworn to me, That if some gust of passion swell your soul To words intemperate, I will bear with you.

Troil.

What wou'd this pomp of preparation mean? Come you to bring me news of Priams death Or Hecuba's

Hect.

The Gods forbid I shou'd: But what I bring is nearer you, more close, An ill more yours,

Troil.

There is but one that can be.

Hect.

Perhaps 'tis that.

Troil.

I'le not suspect my fate So far, I know I stand possest of that.

Hect.

'Tis well: consider at whose house I finde you.

Troil.

Ha!

Hect.

Does it start you! I must wake you more: Anthenor is exchang'd.

Troil.

For whom.

Hect.

Imagine.

Troil.

It comes like thunder grumbling in a cloud, Before the dreadfull break: if here it fall, The subtile flame will lick up all my blood, And in a moment turn my heart to ashes.

Hect.

That Cressida for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 is exchang'd Because I knew 'twas harsh I wou'd not tell; Not all at once; but by degrees and glimpses I let it in, lest it might rush upon you And quite orepower your Soul: in this I think

I show'd a friend: your part must follow next: Which is, to curb your choler, tame your grie••, And bear it like a man.

Troil.

I think I do That I yet live to hear you: but no more: Hope for no more: for shou'd some Goddess offer To give her self and all her Heaven in change, I wou'd not part with Cressida: so return This answer as my last.

Hect.

'Twill not be taken: Nor will I bear such news.

Troil.

You bore me worse.

Hect.

Worse for your self; not for the general state, And all our common fafety, which depends On free'd Anthenors wisdome.

Troil.

You wou'd say That I'm the Man mark'd out to be unhappy; And made the publick Sacrifice for Troy.

Hect.

I wou'd say so indeed: for can you finde A fate more glorious than to be that victime? If parting from a Mistriss can procure A Nations happiness, show me that Prince Who dares to trust his future ••ame so farr To stand the shock of Annals, blotted thus He sold his Country for a womans love?

Troil.

O, she's my life, my being, and my Soul!

Hect.

Suppose she were, which yet I will not grant, You ought to give her up.

Troil.

For whom!

Hect.

The publick.

Troil.

And what are they that I shou'd give up her To make them happy? let me tell ••ou Brother, The publick, is the Lees of vulgar slaves: Slaves, with the minds of slaves: so born, so bred: Yet such as these united in a herd Are call'd the publique: Millions of such Cyphers Make up the publique sum: an Eagles life Is worth a world of Crows: are Princes made For such as these, who, were one Soul extracted From all their beings, cou'd not raise a Man.—

Hect.

And what are we, but for such men as these? 'Tis adoration, some say makes a God: And who shou'd pay it, where wou'd be their Altars Were no inferiour creatures here on Earth? Ev'n those who serve have their expectances;

Degrees of happiness, which they must share, Or they'll refuse to serve us.

Troil.

Let e'm have it. Let e'm eat, drink and sleep; the only use They have of life:

Hect.

You take all these away, Unless you give up Cressida.

Troil.

Forbear; Let Paris give up Hellen: ••he's the cause, And root of all this mischief.

Hect.

Your own suffrage Condemns you there: you voted for her stay.

Troil.

If one must stay, the other sha'not go.

Hect.

She sha'not?

Troil.

Once again, I say she shall not.

Hect.

Our Father has decree'd it otherwise.

Troil.

No matter.

Hect.

How! no matter Troylus? A King, and fathers will!

Troil.

When 'tis unjust.

Hect.

Come she shall go.

Troil.

She shall? then I am dar'd.

Hect.

If nothing else will do.

Troil.

Answer me first; And then Ile answer that: be sure I will; Whose hand seal'd this exchange?

Hect.

My Fathers first; Then all the Council's after.

Troil.

Was yours there?

Hect.

Mine was there too.

Troil.

Then you'r no more my friend: And for your sake now mark me what I say, She shall not go.

Hect.

Go to, you are a boy,

Troil.

A Boy! Im'e glad I am not such a Man, Not such as thou; a traytor to thy Brother: Nay more, thy friend: but friend's a Sacred name, Which none but brave and honest men shou'd wear; In thee 'tis vile; 'tis prostitute: 'tis Ayr; And thus I puffe it from me.

Hect.

Well, young Man, Since I'me no friend (and oh that ere I was To one so far unworthy) bring her out, Or by our Fathers Soul, of which no part Did ere descend to thee, Ile force her hence.

Troil.

I laugh at thee.

Hect.

Thou dar'st not.

Troil.

I dare more, If urg'd beyond my temper: prove my daring, And see which of us has the larger share Of our great Fathers Soul.

Hect.

No more, thou knowst me.

Troil.

I do; and know my self.

Hect.

All this ye Gods, And for the Daughter of a fugitive, A Traytor to his Country!

Troil.

'Tis too much.

Hect.

By Heaven too little; for I think her common,

Troil.

How, Common!

Hect.

Common as the tainted shambles, Or as the dust we tread.

Troil.

By Heaven as chaste as thy Andromache.

Hector lays his hand on Troylus his A••m; and Troylus does the same to him.

Hect.

What! nam'st thou them together!

Troil.

No; I do not: For Cressida is first: as chaste as she, But much more fair.

Hect.

O patience, patience, Heaven! Thou tempt'st me strangely: shou'd I kill thee now, I know not if the Gods can be offended Or think I slew a Brother; but be gone, Be gone, or I shall shake thee into Atomes: Thou know'st I can.

Troil.

I care not if you cou'd.

Hect.

walking off.

I thank ye Gods for calling to my minde My promise that no words of thine shou'd urge me, Beyond the bounds of reason: But in thee 'Twas brutall baseness, so forewa••••'d to fall Beneath the name of man: to spurn my kindness; And when I offer'd thee (thou knowst how loth!) The wholsome bitter cup o' friendly counsel. To dash it in my face: farewel, farewel. Ungratefull as thou art: hereafter use The name of Brother; but of friend no mo••e.

[goi••g 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Troil.

Wilt thou not break yet heart? stay Brother, stay▪ I promis'd too, but I have broke my vow, And you keep yours too well▪

Hect.

What wouldst thou more? Take heed, young man how you too 〈…〉〈…〉 For Heaven can witness'tis with much 〈◊〉〈◊〉 That I preserve my faith.

Troil.

Else you wou'd kill me;

Hect.

By all the Gods I wou'd.

Troil.

I'me satisfi'd. You have condemn'd me, and Ile do't my self; What's life to him, who has no use of life? A barren purchase, held upon hard terms! For I have lost (oh what have I not lost!) The fairest, dearest, kindest of her Sex, And lost her ev'n by him, by him, ye Gods, Who only cou'd, and only shou'd protect me! And if I had a joy beyond that love, A friend, have lost him too!

Hect.

Speak that again: (For I cou'd hear it ever:) ••aidst tho•• not That if thou hadst a joy beyond that love It was a friend? O saydst thou not a friend! That doubting if was kinde: then thou'rt divided; And I have still some part,

Troil.

If still you have You do not care to have it.

Hect.

How, not care!

Troil.

No, Brother, ca••e not.

Hect.

Am I but thy Brother!

Troil.

You told me I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 call you friend no more.

Hect.

How far my words were distant from my heart! Know when I told thee so I lov'd thee most. Alas! it is the use of human frailty To fly to worst extremities with those To whom we most are kind.

Troil.

Is't possible! Then you are still my friend!

Hect.

Heaven knows I am!

Troil.

And can forgive the Sallies of my passion? For I have been too blame: oh much too blame: Have said such words, nay done such actions too, (Base as I am) that my aw'd, conscious Soul 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in my breast, nor dare I lift an eye On him I have offended.

Hect.

Peace be to thee And calmness ever there. I blame thee not:

I know thou lov'st; and what can love not do! I cast the wild disorderly account Of all thy words and deeds on that mad passion; I pity thee, indeed I pity thee:

Troil.

Do; for I need it: let me lean my head Upon thy bosome; all my peace dwells there; Thou art some God, or much much more then man!

Hect.

Alas! to lose the joys of all thy youth, One who deserv'd thy love!

Troil.

Did she deserve?

Hect.

She did.

Troil.

Then sure she was no common creature.

Hect.

I said it in my rage, I thought not so.

Troil.

That thought has bles'd me! but to lose this love. After long pains, and after short po••••ession.

Hect.

I feel it for thee: Let me go to Priam, I'le break this treaty off; or let me fight; l'le be thy champion; and secure both her And thee, and Troy.

Troil.

It must not be, my Brother! For then your errour would be more then mine: l'le bring her forth, and you shall bear her hence; That you have pitied me is my reward.

Hect.

Go then; and the good gods restore her to thee, And with her all the quiet of thy minde; The triumph of this kindeness be thy own; And heaven and earth this testimony yield, That Friendship never gain'd a nobler field.

Exeunt severally.

ACT IV. SCENE I.

Enter Pandarus, Cressida meeting.

Pand.

I'St possible! no sooner got but lost! The devil take Antenor: the young Prince will go mad: A plague upon Anthenor! wou'd they had broke's neck.

Cressi.

How now! what's the matter! who was here!

Pand.

Oh, oh!

Cressi.

Why sigh you so! O where's my Troilus? tell me sweet Uncle what's the matter?

Pand.

Wou'd I were as deep under the earth, as I am above it!

Cressi.

Oh the Gods, what's the matter?

Pand.

Prithee get thee in, wou'd thou hadst never been born! I knew thou woud'st be his death; oh poor Gentleman! A plague upon Antenor?

Cressi.

Good Uncle, I beseech you on my knees, tell me what's the matter?

Pand.

Thou must be gone girl; thou must be gone, to the fugitive Rogue Priest thy father, (and he's my brohter too, but that's all one at this time:) a pox upon Antenor.?

Cressi.

O ye immortal Gods, I will not go.

Pand.

Thou must, thou must?

Cressi.

I will not: I have quite forgot my father; I have no touch of birth; no spark of Nature: No kinn, no blood, no life; nothing so near me As my dear Troilus?

Enter Troilus.

Pand.

Here, here, here, he comes sweet Duck!

Cressi.

O Troilus, Troilus!

[They both weep over each other, she running into ••is armes.

Pand.

What a pair of Spectacles is here! let me embrace too: Oh heart, sings(as the saying is) O heart, heavy heart, why sighst thou without breaking (where he answers again) because thou canst not ease thy smart, by friendship nor by speaking, there was never a truer rhime; 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?

Troil.

Cressida, I love thee with so strange a purity That the blest Gods, angry with my devotions More bright in zeal, than that I pay their Altars, Will take thee from my sight?

Cressi.

Have the Gods envy?

Pa••d▪

I, I, I, 'tis too plain a case!

Cressi.

And is it true, that I must go from Troy?

Troil.

A hastefull truth?

Cressi.

What, and from Troilus too?

Troil.

From Troy and Troilus: and suddenly. So suddenly 'tis counted but by minutes.

Cressi.

What not an hour allow'd for taking leave?

Troil.

Ev'n that's bereft us too: our envious fates Justle betwixt, and part the dear adieus Of meeting lips, clasp'd hands, and lock'd embraces.

Aeneas within.

My Lord, is the Lady ready yet?

Troil.

Hark, you are call'd: some say the Genius so Cryes come, to him who instantly must dye.

Pand.

Where are my tears! some rain to'lay this wind: Or my heart will be blown up by th' roots!

Troil.

Hear me my Love! be thou but true like me.

Cressi.

I true! how now, what wicked thought is this?

Troil.

Nay, we must use expostulation kindly, For it is parting from us: I spoke not, be thou true, as fearing thee; But be thou true, I said to introduce My following protestation: be thou true, And I will see thee.

Cressi.

You'll be expos'd to dangers.

Troil.

I care not: but be true.

Cressi.

Be true again?

Troil.

Hear why I speak it love. The Grecian Youths are full of Grecian Arts: Alas a kind of holy jealousie Which I beseech you call a vertuous sin, Makes me afraid how far you may be tempted.

Cressi.

O Heavens, you love me not!

Troil

Dye I, a villain then! In this I do not call your faith in question But my own merit.

Cressi.

Fear not; I'le be true

Troil.

Then fate thy worst; for I will see thee love Not all the Grecian host shall keep me out, Nor Troy, though wall'd with fire, shou'd hold me in.

Aeneas within.

My Lord, my Lord Troilus: I must call you.

Pand.

A mischief call him: nothing but Schreechowls? do, do, call again; you had best part 'em now in the sweetnesse of their love! l'le be hang'd if this Aeneas be the Son of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, sor all his bragging.

Honest Venu•• was a Punk: wou'd she have parted Lovers: no he has not a drop of Venus blood in him: honest Ve••us was a Punk.

Troil.

To Pand.

Prithee go out; and gain one minute more.

Pand.

Marry and I will: follow you your business; lose no time,'tis very precious; go, Bill again: I'le tell the Rogue his own I warrant him.

Exit Pandarus.

Cressi.

What have we ga••n'd by this one minute more?

Troil.

Only to wish another, and another A longer struggling with the pangs of death.

Cressi.

O those who do not know what parting is Can never learn to dye!

Troil.

When I but think this sight may be our last, If Jove cou'd set me in th•• palce of A••las And lay the weight of H••av'n and Gods upon me He cou'd not presse me more.

Cressi.

Oh let me go that I may know my grief; Grief is but guess'd, while thou art standing by: But I too soon shall know what absence is.

Troil.

Why 'tis to be no more: another name for death. 'Tis the Sunn parting from the frozen North; And I, me thinks, stand on some cey cliff, To watch the last low circles that he makes; Till he sink down from Heav'n! O only Cressida, If thou depart from me, I cannot live: I have not soul enough to last for grief, But thou shalt hear what grief has done with me.

Cressi.

If I could live to hear it, I were false, But as a careful traveller who fearing Assaults of Robbers, leaves his wealth behind, I trust my heart with thee; and to the Greeks Bear but an empty Casket.

Troil.

Then, I will live; that I may keep that treasure: And arm'd with this assurance, let thee go Loose, yet secure as is the gentle Hawk When whistled off she mounts into the wind, Our love's, like Mountains high above the clouds, Though winds and tempests beat their aged feet, Their peaceful heads nor storm nor thunder know, But scorn the threating rack that roles below,

Exeunt Ambo.

SCENE II.

Achilles and Patroclus, standing in their Tent.

Ulysses, Agamemnon, Menelaus, Nestor, Ajax, passing over the Stage.

Vlyss.

AChilles stands in th'entrance of his Tent: Please it our General to pass strangely by him, As if he were forgot, and Princes all Look on him with neglectful eyes and scorn: Pride must be cur'd by pride.

Agam.

We'll execute your purpose, and put on A form of strangness as we pass along So do each Prince either salute him not Or else disdainfully, which will shake him more Then if not look'd on: I will lead the way.

Achill.

What, comes the General to speak with me! You know my mind; I'll fight no more with Troy.

Agam.

What says Achilles, wou'd he ought with us?

Nest.

Wou'd you, my Lord, ought with the General!

Achill.

No.

Nest.

Nothing my Lord.

Agam.

The better.

Menel.

How do you, how do you!

Achill.

What does the Cuckold scorn me!

Ajax.

How now Patroclus!

Achill.

Good morrow Ajax▪

Ajax.

Ha!

Achill.

Good morrow.

Ajax.

I; and good next day too.

[Exeunt all but Achilles, and Patroclns.

Achill.

What mean these fellows! know they not Achilles?

Patroc.

They pass by strangely; they were us'd to bow; And send their smiles before 'em to Achilles, To come as humbly as they us'd to creep, to holy Altars.

Achill.

Am I poor of late! 'Tis certain, greatness once fall'n out with fortune Must fall out with men too! what the declind is He shall as soon read in the eyes of others As feel in his own fall: for men like butter-flyes, Show not their mealy wings but to the Summer.

Patroc.

'Tis known you are in love with Hector's Sister, And therefore will not fight: and your not fighting

Draws on you this contempt: I oft have told you A woman impudent and mannish grown Is not more loath'd than an effeminate man, In time of action: I'm condemn'd for this: They think my little appetite to warr Deads all the fire in you: but rowse your self, And love shall from your neck unloose his folds; Or like a dew drop from a Lyons Mane Be shaken into ayr.

Achill.

Shall Ajax fight with Hector?

Patrocl.

Yes, and perhaps shall gain much honour by him.

Achill.

I see my reputation is at stake.

Patroc.

O then beware, those wounds heal ill that men have giv'n themselves, because they give e'm deepest.

Achill.

I'le do something: But what I know not yet,—No more our Champion.

Re-enter Ajax, Agamemnon, Menelaus, Ulysses, Nest. Diomede, Trumpet

Agam.

Here art thou daring combat, valiant Ajax. Give with thy Trumpet, a loud note to Troy, Thou Noble Champion, that the sounding ayr May pierce the ears of the great challenger, And call him hither.

Ajax.

Trumpet take that purse: Now crack thy lungs, and split the sounding brass; Thou blow'st for Hector.

[Trumpet sounds, and is answer'd from within.

Enter Hector, Aeneas, and other Troj••ns.

Agam.

Yonder comes the Troop.

Aeneas, coming to the Greeks.

Health to the Grecian Lords; what shall be done To him that shall be vanquish'd? or do you purpose, A Victor should be known! will you the Knights, Shall to the edg of all extremity, Pursue each other, or shall be divided By any voice or order of the ••ield; Hector bad ask.

Agam.

Which way won'd Hector have it?

Aene.

He cares not, he'll obey conditions.

Achill.

'Tis done like Hector but securely done; A little proudly, and too much dispising The Knight oppos'd, he might have found his match.

Aene.

If not Achilles, Sir, what is your name!

Achill.

If not Achill•• nothing▪

Aene.

Therefore Achilles, but who ere know this; Great Hector knows no pride, weigh him but well, And that which looks like pride is courtesy. This Ajax is half made of Hectors blood, In love whereof half Hector stays at home;

Achill.

A Maiden battle! I perceive you then.

Agam.

Go Diomede, and stand by valiant Ajax: As you and Lord Aeneas shall consent, So let the fight proceed or terminate.

[The Trumpets sound on both sides, while Aeneas and Diomede take their places, as Iudges of the Field: The Trojans and Grecians rank themselves on either side.

Vlyss.

They are oppos'd already.

[Fight equal at fi••st, then Ajax has Hector at disadvantage: at last Hector closes, Ajax falls on one knee, Hector stands over him but striks not, and Ajax rises.

Aeneas throwing his G••••tlet betwixt them.

Princes enough, you both have shown much valour.

Diomede.

And we as Judges of the Field declare; The combat here shall cease.

Ajax.

I am not warm yet, let us fight again.

Aene.

Then let it be as Hector shall determine.

Hect.

If it be left to me, I will no more.

Ajax,

thou art my Aunt Hesion's Son; The Obligation of our blood forbids us. But were thy mixture Greek and Trojan so, That thou cou'dst say, this part is Grecian all And this is Trojan, hence thou shou'dst not bear One Grecian limb, wherein my pointed Sword Had not impression made, but Heav'n forbid That any drop thou borrowst from my Mother, Shou'd ere be drained by me, let me embrace thee Cousin: By him who thunders thou hast sinnewy arms, Hector wou'd have 'em fall upon him thus:—

[Embrace]

Thine be the honour, Ajax.

Ajax.

I thank thee Hector, Thou art too gentle, and too free a Man: I came to kill thee Cousin, and to gain A great addition from that glorious act: But thou hast quite disarm'd me.

Hect.

I am glad.

For 'tis the only way I cou'd 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thee.

Ajax.

If I might in intreaty finde success, I wou'd desire to see thee at my Tent.

Diom.

'Tis Agamemnons wish, and great Achilles, Both long to see the valiant Hector there.

Hect.

Aeneas, call my Brother Troil••s to me; And you two signe this friendly enterview.

[Agamemnon, and the cheif of both sides approch.

Agam.

to Hect.

Worthy of Arms, as welcome as to one Who wou'd be rid of such an Enemy.

To Troil.

My well fam'd Lord of Troy, no less to you.

Nest.

I have, thou gallant Trojan seen thee often Labouring for destiny, make cruel way, Through ranks of Grecian youth, and I have seen thee As swift as lightning spur thy Ph••ygian Steed, And seen thee scorning many forfeit lives, When thou hast hung thy advanc'd Sword ith' ayr, Not leting it decline, on prostrate foes: That I have said to all the standers by Lo Jove is yonder, distributing life.

Hect.

Let me embrace thee, good old Chroni le, Who hast so long walkt hand in hand with time: Most Reverend Nestor, I am glad to clasp thee.

Vlyss.

I wonder now, how yonder City stands, When we have here, her base and pillar by us.

Hect.

I know your count'nance, Lord Vlysses well; Ah Sir, there's many a Greek and Trojan dead, Since first I saw your self and Di••mede, In Ilion, on your Greekish Embassy.

Achill.

Now Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee; I have with exact view perus'd thee Hector, And quoted joint by joint.

Hect.

Is this Achilles!

Achill.

I am Achilles.

Hect.

Stand fair, I prithee let me look on thee.

Achill.

Behold thy fill.

Hect.

Nay, •• have done already.

Achill.

Thou art too brief, I will the second time As I wou'd buy thee, view thee limb by limb.

Hect.

O, like a Book of sport thou read'st me ore; But there's more in me then thou understand'st.

Achill.

Tell me ye Heav'ns, in which part of his body Shall •• destroy him? there, or there, or there! That I may give th'imagin'd wound a name, And make di••tinct the very breach, whereout▪

Hectors great spirit flew! answer me Heavens!

Hect.

Wert thou an Oracle to tell me this! I'de not believe thee, henceforth guard thee well, I'le kill the every where: Ye Noble Grecians pardon me this boast, His insolence draws folly from my lips, But I'le endeavour deeds to match these words; Else may •• never.—

Ajax.

Do not cha••e thee Cousin, And you Achilles let these threats alone: You may have every day enough of Hector, If you have stomack, the General State I fear Can scarce intreat you to perform your boast.

Hect.

I pray you let us see you in the field; We have had paltry Wars, since you refus'd The Grecian cause.

Ach••ll.

Dost thou entreat me Hector! To morrow will •• meet thee fierce as death; To Night all peace.

Hect.

Thy hand upon that match.

Agam.

First all you Grecian Princes go with me, And entertain great Hector, afterwards, As his own leasure, shall concur with yours, You may invite him to your several Tents.

[Exeunt Agam. Hect. Menel. Nestor, Diomede, together.

Troil.

My Lord Vlysses.

Tell me I beseech you; In what part of the field does Calehas lodg!

Vlyss.

At Menelaus Tent; There Diomede does feast with him to Night: Who neither looks on Heaven or on Earth, But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view, On C••essi••a alone.

Troil.

Shall I, brave Lord be bound to you so much After we part from Agamemnons Tent. To bring me thither!

Vlyss.

I shall want on you. As freely tell me, of what honour was This Cressida in Troy? had she no Lovers there Who mourn her absence?

Troil.

O Sir, to such as boasting show their scars, Reproof is due, she lov'd and was belov'd: That's all I must impart. Lead on my Lord.

Exeunt Ulysses Troilus.

Achill.

to Patro.

I'le heat his blood with Greckish wine to Night,

Which with my Sword I mean to cool to morrow. Patroclus, let us feast him to the height.

Enter Thersites.

Patro.

Here comes Thersites.

Achill.

How now thou core of envy, Thou crusty batch of Nature, what's the news?

Thers.

Why thou picture of what thou seemst, thou Idoll of Ideot worshippers, there's a Letter for thee.

Achill.

From whence fragment?

Thers.

Why thou full dish of fool, from Troy.

Patroc.

Well said adversity! what makes thee so keen to day?

Thers.

Because a fool's my whetstone.

Patro.

Meaning me?

Thers.

Yes meaning thy no meaning; prithee be silent, boy, I pro∣fit not by thy talk: Now the rotten diseases of the South, gut gripings, ruptures, Catarrhs; loads of gravell in the back, Lethargies, cold palsies, and the like, take thee, and take thee again; thou green Sarce∣net flap for a sore eye, thou tassell of a prodigals purse, thou: Ah how the poor world is pester'd with such water-flys: such diminitives of nature.

Achill.

My dear Patroclus, I am quite prevented From my great purpose, bent on Hector's life: Here is a Letter from my love Polixena, Both taxing, and ingaging me to keep An Oath that •• have sworn: and will not break it To save all Greece: let honour go or stay, There's more Religion in my love than fame:

Exeunt Achilles, Patroclus.

Thers.

With too much blood, and too little brain, these two are running mad before the dog-days. There's Agamemnon too, an honest fellow enough, and loves a brimmer heartily; but he has not so much brains as an old gander. But his brother Menelaus, there's a fellow: the goodly transformation of Jupiter when he lov'd Europa: the primi∣tive Cuckold: A vile Monkey ty'd eternally to his brothers table. To be a Dog, a Mule, a Cat, a toad, an Owle, a Lizard, a Herring with∣out a roe, I would not care: but to be Menelaus I would conspire against destiny—Hey day! will with a wispe, and Jack a lanthorn!

Hector, Ajax, Agamemnon, Diomede, Ulisses, Troilus, going with torches over the stage.

Agam.

We go wrong; we go wrong.

Ajax.

No, yonder 'tis; there where see the light.

Hect.

I touble you.

Ajax.

Not at all Cousin: Here comes Achilles himself to guide us.

Enter Achilles.

Achill.

Welcome brave Hector, welcome princes all:

Agam.

So now, brave Prince of Tray, I take my leave; Ajax commands the guard, to wait on you.

Men.

Good night my Lord!

Hect.

Good night Sweet Lord Menelaus▪

Thers.

aside.

Sweet quoth a! sweet Sink, sweet shore, sweet Jakes!

Achill.

Nestor will stay; and you Lord Diomede. Keep Hector company an hour or two.

Diom.

I cannot Sir: I have important business.

Achill.

Enter my Lords.

Vliss.

to Troil.

Follow his torch: he goes to Calchas's tent.

[Exeunt Achill. Hect. Ajax at one way, Diomede, another; and after him Ulyss, Troylus.

Thers.

This Diomede's a most false-hearted rogue, an unjust Knave: I will no more trust him when he winks with one eye, then I will a Serpent when he hisses. He will spend his mouth and pro∣mise, like Brabbler the Hound: but when he performs, Astronomers set it down for a prodigy; Though I long to see Hector, I cannot for∣bear dogging him. They say a keeps a Trojan Drabb: and uses Calchas tent, that fugitive Priest of Troy; that Canonical Rogue of our side. I'le after him: nothing but whoring in this Age: all incontinent Rascalls!

Exit Thersites.

Entere Calchas, Cressida.

Calch.

O, what a blessing is a vertuous child! Thou hast reclam'd my mind, and calm'd my passions Of anger and revenge: my love to Troy Revives within me, and my lost Tyara No more disturbs my mind:

Cress.

A vertuous conquest.

Calch.

I have a womans longing to return But yet which way without your ayd I know not.

Cress.

Time must instruct us how.

Calch.

You must dissemble love to Diomede still False Diomede, bred in Vlysses School Can never be deceiv'd, But by strong Arts and blandishments of love: Put 'em in practice all: seem lost and won, And draw him on, and give him line again. This Argus then may close his hundred eyes And leave our flight more easy.

Cress.

How can I answer this to love and Troilus?

Calch.

Why 'tis for him you do it: promise largely▪ That Ring he saw you wear, he much s••spects▪

Was given you by a Lover; let him have it.

Diom.

within.

Hoa; Calchas, Calchas!

Calch.

Hark! I hear his voice. Pursue your project: doubt not the success.

Cress.

Heaven knows against my will: and yet my hopes This night to meet my Triolus, while 'tis truce Afford my minde some ease.

Calch.

No more: retire.

Exit Cressida.

Enter Diomede; Troilus and Ulysses appear listening at one door, and Thersites watching at another.

Diom.

I came to see your Daughter, worthy Calchas.

Calch.

My Lord I'le call her to you.

Exit Calchas.

Vlysses

to Troil.

Stand where the torch may not discover us.

Enter Cressida.

Troil.

Cressida comes forth to him!

Diom.

How now my charge?

Cress.

Now my sweet Guardian: hark a word with you.

Whisper.

Troil.

I, so familiar!

Diom.

Will you remember?

Cress.

Remember: yes.

Troil.

Heav'ns! what shou'd she remember! plague and madnesse!

Vlysses.

Prince, you are mov'd: let us depart in time Lest your displeasure should enlarge it self To wrathfull terms: this place is dangerous; The time unfit: 'beseech you let us go.

Troil.

I pray you stay; by Hell, and by Hell torments I will not speak a word.

Diom.

I'le hear no more: good night.

Cress.

Nay, but you part in anger!

Troil.

Does that grieve thee! O wither'd truth!

Diom.

Farewell Cousner.

Cress.

Indeed I am not: pray come back again.

Vlyss.

You shake my Lord, at something: will you go? You will break out.

Troil.

By all the Gods I will not. There is between my will and all my actions, A guard of patience! stay a little while.

Thers.

aside.

How the devill luxury with his fat rump, and potato finger, tickles these together! put him off a little, you foolish Harlot! 'twill sharpen him the more.

D••om.

But will you then?

Cressi.

I will as soon as ere the War's concluded.

Diom.

Give me some token, for the surety of it: The Ring I saw you wear.

Cressi.

Giving it.

If you must have it.

Troil.

The Ring! nay then 'tis plain! O beauty where's thy faith!

Vlyss.

You have sworn patience.

Thersi.

That's well, that's well, the pledge is given, hold her to her word good Devil and her soul's thine I warrant thee.

Diom.

Who's wast?

Cressi.

By all Diana's waiting train of stars, And by her self, I will not tell you whose.

Diom.

Why then thou lov'st him still, farewell for ever: Thou never shalt mock Diomede again.

Cressi.

You shall not go, one cannot speak a word But straight it starts you.

Diom.

I do not like this fooling.

Thersi.

Nor I by ••luto: but that which likes not me, pleases me best.

Diom.

I shall expect your promise.

Cressi.

I'le perform it. Not a word more, good night—-I hope for ever:

[aside.

Thus to deceive deceivers is no fraud.

Exeunt Diomede Cressida severally.

Vlyss.

All's done my Lord.

Troil.

Is it?

vlyss.

Pray let us go.

Troil.

Was Cressida here?

Vlyss.

I cannot conjure Trojan.

Troil.

She was not sure! she was not. Let it not be believ'd for womanhood: Think we had Mothers, do not give advantage, To biting Satyr, apt without a theme, For defamation, to square a••l the sex By Cressid's rule rather think this not Cressida.

Thersi.

Will he swagger himself out on••s own eyes!

Troil.

This she! no this was Diomedes Cessida. If beauty have a Soul, this is not she: I cannot speak for rage, that Ring was mine, By Heaven I gave it, in that point of time When both our joys were fullest!—if he keeps it Let dogs eat Troilus.

Thersi.

He'll tickle it for his Concupy: this will be sport to see!

Patroclus will give me any thing for the intelligence of this whore; a parrot will not do more for an almond, than he will for a commodi∣ous drab: I would I cou'd meet with this Rogue Diomede too; I wou'd croke like a Raven to him; I wou'd bode: it shall go hard but ••'le ••••nd him out.

Exit Thesites

Enter Aeneas.

Aen.

I have been seeking you this hour, my Lord: Hector by this is arming him in Troy.

Vlyss.

Commend me gallant Troilus to your Brother: Tell him I hope he shall not need to arm: The fair Polixena has by a letter Disarm'd our great Achilles of his rage.

Troil.

This I shall say to Hector.

Vlyss.

So I hope! Pray Heaven Thersites have inform'd me true,—

[aside.

Troil.

Good night, my Lord; accept distracted thanks.

[Exit Ulisses.

Enter Pandarus.

Pand.

Hear ye, my Lord, hear ye; I have been seeing yon poor girl. There have been old doings there i'faith.

Troil.

aside.

Hold yet, my Spirits; let him powr it in: The poyson's kind: the more I drink of it The sooner 'twill dispatch me.

Aene.

to Pand.

Peace you babbler!

Pand.

She has been mightily made on by the Greeks: she takes most wonderfully among em: Achilles kiss'd her, and Patroclus Kiss'd her: Nay and old Nestor put aside his gray beard and brush'd her with his whiskers. Then comes me Agamemnon with his Generals Staff, diving with a low bow e'en to the ground, and rising again, just at her lips: And after him came Vlysses, and Ajax, and Menelaus: and they so pelted her i'faith: pitter patter, pitter patter, as thick as hayl-stones. And after that a whole rout of 'em: Never was woman in Phrygia better kiss'd.

Troil.

aside.

Hector said true: I finde, I finde it now!

Pand.

And last of all comes me Diomede so demurely: that's a no∣table sly Rogue I warrant him! mercy upon us, how he layd her on up∣on the lips! for as I told you, she's most mightily made on among the Greekes. What, cheer up I say Man! she has every ones good word. I think in my conscience, she was born with a caull upon her head.

Troil.

aside.

Hell, death, confusion, how he tortures me!

Pand.

And that Rogue-Priest my Brother, is so courted and trea∣ted for her sake: the young Sparks do so pull him about, and hall him by the Cassock: nothing but invitations to his Tent, and his Tent, and this Tent. Nay and one of'em was so bold, as to ask him if she were a Virgin, and with that the Rogue my Brother, takes me up a little God in his hand, and kisses it; and swears devoutly that she was, then was I ready to burst my sides with laughing, to think what had pass'd betwixt you two.

Troil.

O I can bear no more: she's falshood all: False by both kinds; for with her mothers milk

She ••uck'd th'infusion of her Fathers Soul. She only wants an opportunity, Her Soul's a whore already.

Pand.

What wou'd you make a Monopoly of a womans lips: a little consolation or so, might be allow'd one wou'd think in a lovers ab∣sence!

Troil.

Hence from my sight: let ignominy brand thy hated name: Let Modest Matrons at thy mention start; And blushing Virgins, when they read our Annals, Skipo're the guilty page that holds thy Legend, And blots the noble work.

Pand.

O world, world; thou art an ungratefull patch of Earth!

Thus the poor Agent is despis'd! he labours painfully in his calling, and trudges between parties: but when their turns are serv'd, come out's too good for him. I am mighty melancholy: I'le e'en go home, and shut up my doors; and dye o'th sullens like an old bird in a Cage!

Exit Pandarus.

Enter Diomede and Thersites.

Thers.

aside.

There; there he is: now let it work: now play thy part jealousy, and twinge e'm: put 'em between thy milstones, and grinde the Rogues together.

Diom.

My Lord I am by Ajax sent to infrom you This hour muft end the truce.

Aeneas

to Troil.

Contain your self; Think where we are.

Diom.

Your stay will be unsafe.

Troil.

It may for those I hate.

Thers.

aside.

Well said Trojan: there's the frrst hit.

Diom.

Beseech you Sir make haste, my own affairs Call me another way.

Thers.

aside.

What affairs; what affairs; demand that, Dolthead! the Rogue will lose a quarrell for want of wit to ask that question.

Troil.

May I enquire where your affairs conduct you?

Thers.

aside.

Well sayd again; I beg thy pardon.

Diom.

Oh, it concerns you not.

Troil.

Perhaps it does.

Diom.

You are too inquisi••ive: nor am I bound To satisfy and Enemies request.

Troil.

You have a Ring upon your finger Diomede, And given you by a Lady,

Diom.

If it were; 'Twas given to one who can defend her gift.

Thers.

aside.

So, so; the boars begin to gruntle at one another: set up your bristles now a'both sides: whet and foam Rogues.

Troil.

You must restore it Greek, by Heaven you must: No spoil of mine shall grace a Traitors hand.

And, with it, give me back the broken vows Of my false fair; which, perjur'd as she is, I never will resigne, but with my Soul.

Diom.

Then thou it seems art that for saken fool Who wanting merit to preserve her heart, Repines in vain to see it better plac'd; But know, (for now I take a pride to grieve thee) Thou art so lost a thing in her esteem I never heard thee nam'd; but some scorn follow'd: Thou wert our table take for laughing meals: Thy name our sportful theme for Evening walks: And intermissive hours of cooler Love: When hand in hand we went. [Troil.] Hell and furies!

Thersi.

Aside.

O well stung Scorpion!

Now Menclaus his Greek horns are out o' doors, there's a new Cuckold start up on the Trojan side.

Troil.

Yet this was she, ye Gods that very she, Who in my arms lay melting all the Night; Who kiss'd and sigh'd, and sigh'd, and kiss'd again, As if her Soul flew upward to her lips, To meet mine there, and panted at the passage. Who loath to finde the breaking day, look'd out, And shrunk into my bosome, there to make A little longer darkness.

Diom.

Plagues and tortures!

Thersi.

Good, good, by Pluto! their fool's mad to lose his harlot; and our fools mad, that tother fool had her first: if I sought peace now, I cou'd tell 'em there's punk enough to satisfie 'em both: whore suffici∣ent! but let 'em worry one another, the foolish currs; they think they can never have enough of carrion.

Aeneas.

My Lords, this sury is not proper here, In time of truce; if either side be injur'd To morrow's Sun will rise apace, and then—

Troil.

And then! but why should I defer till then? My blood calls now, there is no truce for Traytors. My vengeance rowls within my breast, it must It will have vent▪—

[Draws.

Diom

Hinder us not Aeneas, My blood rides high as his, I trust thy honour; And know thou art too brave a foe to break it.—

[Draws.

Thersi.

Now Moon! now snine sweet Moon! let 'em have just light enough to make their passes: and not light enough to ward 'em

Aene.

Drawing too.

By Heav'n he comes on this who strikes the first, You both are mad, is this like gallant men To fight at midnight; at the Murderers hour?

When only guilt and rapine draws a Sword? Let night enjoy her dues of soft repose; But let the Sun behold the brave mans courage. And this I dare engage for Diomede Foe though I am, he shall not hide his head, But meet you in the very face of danger.

Diom.

putting up.

Be't so: and were it on some precipice High as Olympus, and a Sea beneath Call when thou dar'st, just on the sharpest point I'le meet, and tumble with thee to destruction.

Troil.

A gnawing conscience haunts not guilty men As I'le haunt thee, to summon thee to this, Nay, should'st thou take the Stygian lake for refuge I'le plunge in after, through the boiling flames To push thee hissing down the vast Abysse.

Diom.

Where shall we meet?

Troil.

Before the Tent of Calchas: Thither, through all your Troops, Ile fight my way; And in the sight of perjur'd Cressida Give death to her through thee.

Diom.

Tis largely promis'd. But I disdain to answer with a boast; Be sure thou shalt be met.

Troil.

And thou be found.

[Exeunt Troilus Aeneas, one way: Diomede the other.

Thers.

Now the furies take Aeneas, for letting 'em sleep upon their quarrell: who knows but rest may cool their brains, and make 'em rise maukish to mischief upon consideration? May each of 'em dream he sees his Cockatrice in to' thers arms: and be stabbing one another in their sleep, to remember 'em of their business when they wake: let 'em be punctual to the point of honour; and if it were possible let both be first at the place of Execution. Let neither of 'em have cogitation e∣nough, to consider 'tis a whore they fight for: and let 'em vallue their lives at as little as they are worth. And lastly let no succeeding fools take warning by 'em; but in imitation of them when a Strumpet is in question,

Let 'em beneath thair feet all reason trample; And think it great to perish by Example.

Exit.

ACT V. SCENE I.

Hector, Trojans, Andromache.

Hect.

THe blew mists rise from off the nether grounds, And the Sun mounts apace: to arms, to arms; I am resolv'd to put to th' utmost proof The fate of Troy this day.

Andro.

aside.

Oh, wretched woman, oh!

Hect.

Methought heard you sigh, Andromache!

Andro.

Did you my Lord?

Hect.

Did you my Lord? You answer indirectly, Just when I sayd that I wou'd put our fate Upon th' extreamest proof, you fetch'd a groan; And, as you check'd your self, for what you did You stifl'd it, and stopt. Come you are sad.

Andro.

The Gods forbid.

Hect.

What should the Gods forbid?

Andro.

That I shou'd give you cause of just offence.

Hect.

You say well: but you look not cheerfully. I mean this day to waste the stock of war, And lay it prodigally out in blows: Come gird my sword, and smile upon me, love; Like victory come flying to my arms; And give me earnest of desir'd successe.

Andro.

The Gods protect you; and restore you to me.

Hect.

What, grown a Coward! thou wert us'd Andromache, To give my courage, courage: thou woudst cry Go Hector; day grow's old; and part of Fame Is ravish'd from thee, by thy sloathfull stay.

Andro.

aside.

What shall I do, to seem the same I was! Come let me gird thy fortune to thy side: And conquest sit as close, and sure as this.

[She goes to gird his Sword; and it falls.]

Now mercy, Heaven! the Gods avert this omen!

Hect.

A foolish omen! take it up again; And mend thy errour.

Andro.

I cannot: for my hand obeys me not. But as in slumbers, when we fain wou'd run From our imagin'd fears, our idle feet Grow to the ground, our struggling voice dyes inward, So now, when wou'd force my self to chear you My faltring tongue can give no glad presage; Alas, I am no more Andromache.

Hect.

Why then thy former Soul is flown to me: For I, me thinks, am lifted into ayr: As if my mind, mastring my mortal part Wou'd bear my exalted body to the Gods. Last night I dreamt Jove sate on Ida's top And beckning with his hand divine from far, He pointed to a quire of Demi- gods, Bacch••s, and Hercules, and all the rest Who free from humane toils had gain'd the pitch Of blest eternity: lo there he sayd; Lo there's a place for Hector.

Andro.

Be to thy Enemies this boding dream!

Hect.

Why it portends me honour and renoun.

Andro.

Such honour, as the Brave gain after death. For I have dreamt all night of horrid slaughters, Of trampling horses, and of Charriot wheels Wading in blood up to their Axeltrees. Of fiery Demons gliding down the Skyes, And Ilium brighten'd with a midnight blaze; O therefore, if thou lov'st me, go not forth.

Hect.

Go to thy bed again; and there dream better. Ho bid my Trumpet Sound.

Andro.

No notes of sally for the Heaven's sweet sake. Tis not for nothing when my Spirits droop: This is a day when thy ill Starrs are strong When they have driv'n thy helpless genius down The steep of Heaven to some obscure retreat.

Hect.

No more; ev'n as thou lov st my fame no more: My honour stands ingag'd to meet Achilles: What will the Grecians think; or what will he, Or what will Troy; or what wilt thou thy self When once this ague fit of fear is ore; If I should lose my honour for▪ a dream.

Andro.

Your Enemies too well your courage know, And Heaven abhorrs the forfiet of rash vows Like spotted livers in a Sacrifice. I cannot; O I dare not let you go: For when you leave me, my presaging minde Says, I shall never, never see you more.

Hect.

Thou excellently good, but oh too soft, Let me not scape the danger of this day, But I have struggling in my manly Soul To see those modest tears, asham'd to fall, And witness any part of woman in thee! And now I fear, lest thou should'st think it fear,

If thus disswaded, I refuse to fight, And stay inglorious in thy arms at home.

Andro.

Oh cou'd I have that thought I shou'd not love thee; Thy soul is proof to all things but to kindness. And therefore t'was that I forebore to tell thee How mad Cassandra, full of prophecy Ran round the streets, and like a Bacchanal Cry'd hold him Priam, 'tis an ominous day, Let him not go; for Hector is no more.

Hect.

Our life is short but to extend that span To vast Eternity is virtues work. Therefore to thee, aad not to fear of fate Which once must come to all, give I this day But see thou move no more the like request: For rest assur'd that to regain this hour To morrow will I tempt a double danger: Mean time, let Destiny attend thy leisure. I reckon this one day a blank of of life.

Enter Troilus.

Troil.

Where are you Brother? now in honour's name, What do you mean to be thus long nnarm'd? Th' imbattel'd Souldiers throug about the gates: The Matrous to the turrets tops ascend Holding their helplesse children in their arms, To make you early known to their young eyes, And Hector is the universal shout.

Hect.

Bid all unarm, I will not fight to day.

Troil.

Employ some coward to bear back this news, And let the children hoot him for his pains; By all the gods and by my just revenge, This sun shall shine the last for them or us: These noisy streets or yonder ecchoing plains Shall be to morrow silent as the grave.

Andro.

O Brother do not urge a brother's fate, But let this rack of heav'n▪ and earth rowl o're, And when the storm is past put out to sea.

Troil.

Oh now I know from whence his change proceeds, Some frantick Augur has observ'd the skyes; Some victim wants a heart, or crow flys wrong; By heav'n 'twas never well since sawcy Priests Grew to be Masters of the listning herd; And into Miters cleft the Regal Crown. Then as the Earth were scanty for their pow'r, They drew the pomp of Heav'n to wait on them; Shall I go publish Hector dares not sight

Because a mad-man dreamt he talk'd with Jove? What cou'd the God see in a brain-sick Priest That he should sooner talk to him then me?

Hect.

You know my name's not liable to fear.

Troil.

Yes, to the worst of fear, to superstition. But whether that or fondnesse of a wife, (The more unpardonabl•• ill) has seiz'd you, Know this, the Grecians think you fear Achilles, And that Polixena has beg'd your life.

Hect.

How! that my life is beg'd, and by my sister?

Troil.

Vlysses so inform'd me at our parting, With a malicious and disdainfull smile: 'Tis true, he said not in broad words you fear'd, But in well-manner'd terms 'twas so agreed Achilles shou'd avoid to meet with Hector.

Hect.

He thinks my Sisters treason, my petition, That largely vaunting in my heat of bloud More then I cou'd, it seems, or durst perform, I sought evasion.

Troil.

And in private pray'd.

Hect.

O yes, Polixena, to beg my life.

Andro.

He cannot think so, do not urge him thus.

Hect.

Not urge me! then thou think'st I need his urging. By all the Gods shou'd Jove himself descend, And tell me Hector thou deserv'st not life But take it as a boon; I wou'd not live. But that a Mortal man, and he of all men Shou'd think my life were in his power to give, I will not rest, till prostrate on the ground I make him Athiest- like, implore his breath Of me and not of Heaven.

Troil.

Then you'I refuse no more to fight.

Hect.

Refuse! I'le not be hinder'd, Brother. I'le through and through 'em, ev'n their hindmost ranks. Till I have found that large siz'd boasting fool Who dare presume my life is in his gift.

Andro.

Farewell, farewell: 'tis vain to strive with fate: Cassandra's raging God inspires my breast, With truths that must be told and not believ'd. Look how he dyes! look how his eye turns pale! Look how his blood bursts out at many vents! Hark how Troy roars, how Hecuba crys out And widow'd fill all the streets with screams! Behold distraction, frenzy and amazement,

Like Antiques meet, and tumble upon heaps! And all cry Hector; Hectors dead! oh Hector!

[Exit Andromache.]

Hect.

What sport will be when we return at Evening, To laugh her out of count'nance for her dreams!

Troil.

I have not quench'd my eyes with dewy sleep this Night; But fiery fumes mount upward to my brains, And when I breathe, methinks my nostrills hiss! I shall turn Basilisk! and with my sight Do my hands work, on Diomede this day.

Hect.

To Arms, to Arms, the vantguards are ingag'd: Let us not leave one Man to guard the Walls, Both Old and young, the coward and the brave, Be Summond all, our utmost fate to try; And as one body move, whose Soul am I.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. The Camp.

Alarm within. Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Menelaus, Souldiers.

Agam.

THus far the promise of the day is fair: Aeneas rather loses ground than gains, I saw him overlabour'd, taking breath; And leaning on his spear, behold our Trenches Like a fierce Lyon looking up to toyls, Which yet he durst not leap.

Vlyss.

And therefore distant death does all the work: The flights of whistling darts make brown the sky, Whose clashing points strike fire, and guild the dusk: Those that reach home, from neither host are vain, So thick the prease; so lusty are their arms, That death seem'd never sent with better will! Nor was with less concernment entertain'd.

Enter Nestor.

Agam.

Now Nestor, what's the news?

Nestor.

I have descry'd, A clow'd of dust that mounts in pillars upwards; Expanding as it travells to our Camp, And from the midst •• heard a bursting showt, That rent the Heavens! as if all Troy were swarm'd, And on the wing this way.

Menel.

Let 'em come, let 'em come.

Agam.

Where's great Achilles!

Vlyss.

Think not on Achilles: Till Hector drag him from his Tent to fight, (Which sure he will, for I have laid the train.)

Nest.

But young Patroclus leads his Myrmydo••s; And in their front, ev'n in the face of Hector, Resolves to dare the Trojans.

Agam.

Haste Vlysses, bid Ajax issue forth, and second hi••.

Vlyss.

Oh Noble General, let it not be so. Oppose not rage, while rage is in its force; But give it way awhile; and let it waste: The rising deluge is not stopt with dams, Those it orebears, and drowns the hopes of harvest. But wisely manag'd its divided strength Is sluc'd in channels, and securely drain'd: First, let small parties da••••y with their fury. But when their force is spent and unsupply'd The residue with mounds may be restrain'd, And dry-shod, we may pass the naked ford.

Enter Thersites.

Thers.

Ho, ho, ho!

Menel.

Why dost thou laugh, unseasonable fool!

Thers.

Why thou fool in season, cannot a man laugh, but thou thinkst he makes horns at thee! Thou Prince of the Herd, what hast thou to do with laughing! Tis the prerogative of man to laugh! Thou Risi∣bility without Reason: thou subject of laughter; Thou fool Royall:

Vlyss.

But tell us the occasion of thy mirth?

Thers.

Now a man asks me, I care not if I answer to my own kinde: why the Enemies are broken into our Trenches: Fools like Menelaus fall by thousands; yet not a humane Soul departs on either side. Troi∣lus and Ajax have almost beaten one anothers heads off; but are both immortal for want of brains. Patroclus has kill'd Sarpedon; and Hector Patroclus: So there's a towardly springing fop gone off: He might have made a Prince one day: But now he's nipt in the very budd and promise of a most prodigious Coxcomb.

Agam.

Bear off Patroclus body to Achilles: Revenge will arm him now, and bring us ayd. Th' alarm Sounds near; an shouts are driv'n upon us, As of a crowd confus'd in their retreat.

Vlyss.

Open your Ranks, and make these mad men way: Then close again, to charge upon their backs: And quite consume the Reliques of the warr.

[Exeunt all but Thersites.

Thers.

What shoales of fools one battle sweeps away!

How it purges families of younger Brothers! Highways of Robbers,

and Cities of Cuckold-makers! There's nothing like a pitch'd Battle, for these brisk Addle-heads! Your Physitian is a pretty fellow; but his fees make him tedious; he rids not fast enough; the fools grow upon him, and their horse bodies are poyson proof. Your pestilence is a quicker Remedy; but it has not the grace to make distinction; it huddles up honest men and Rogues together. But your battle has dis∣cretion; it picks out all the forward fools. And sowses 'em together into Immortality.

[Shouts and alarm within.

Plague upon these drums and trumpets! these sharp sawces of the War, to get fools••an Appetite to fighting! what do I among 'em? I ••hall be miscaken for some valiant Asse, and dye a Martyr, in a wrong Religion!

Here Grecians fly over the stage, pursued by Trojans: One Trojan turns back upon Thersites who is flying too.

Trojan.

Turn slave and fight.

Thers.

turning.

What art thou!

Troj.

A Bastard Son of Priam's.

Thers.

I am a Bastard too: I love Bastards: I am Bastard in body, Bastard in minde, Bastard in valour; in every thing illegitimate. A Bear will not fasten upon a Bear; why should one Bastard offend a∣nother! let us part fair, like true Sons of Whores; and have the fear of our Mothers before our eyes.

Troj.

The Devil take thee Coward.

Exit Trojan

Thers.

Now wou'd I were either invisible, or invulnerable? these Gods have a fine time on't; they can see and make mischief, and ne∣ver feel it.

[Clattring of swords at both doors; he runs each way, and meets the noise.

A pox clatter you; I am compass'd in! Now wou'd I were that block∣head Ajax for a minute: some sturdy Trojan will poach me up with a long pole! and then the Rogues may kill one another upon free cost, and have no body lest to laugh at 'em:

Now Destruction! now Destruction!

Enter Hector and Troilus driving in the Greeks.

Hect.

to Ther.

Speak what part thou ••ightst on!

Thers.

I fight not at all: I am for neither side.

Hect.

Thou art a Greek: art thou a match for Hector. Art thou of blood and honour?

Thers.

No, I am a rescall: a scurvy railing knave; a very filthy Rogue.

Hect.

I do believe thee; live.

Thers.

God a mercy, that thou wilt believe me: but the Devil break thy neck for frighting me:

[aside.

Troilus.

returning.

What Prisoner have you there?

Hect.

A gleaning of the war: a Rogue he says.

Troil.

Despatch him and away.

[going to kill him.

Thers.

Hold, hold: what is't no more but dispatch a man and away! I am in no such hast: I will not dye for Greece; I hate Greece, and by my good will wou'd nere have been born there; I was mistaken into that Country, and betray'd my parents to be born there. And be∣sides I have a mortal Enemy amongst the Grecians, one Diomede a dam∣ned villain, and cannot dye with a safe conscience till I have first mur∣ther'd him.

Troil.

Shew me thrt Diomede and thou shalt live.

Thers.

Come along with me and I'le conduct thee to Calchas his Tent, where I believe he's now making were with the Priests daughter.

Hect.

Here we must part, our destinies devide us; Brother and friend, farewell.

Troil.

When shall we meet?

Hect.

When the Gods please: if not, we once must part. Look; on you hill their squander'd Troops unite;

Troil.

If I mistake not, 'tis their last Reserve: The storm's blown ore; and those but after drops.

Hect.

I wish our Men be not too far ingag'd: ••or few we are and spent; as having born The burden of the Day: but hap what can They shall be charg'd: Achilles must be there; And him I seek, or death. Devide 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Troops; and take the fresher half.

Troil.

O Brother,

Hect.

No dispute of Ceremony! These are enow for me; in faith enow: There bodies shall not flag while I can lead; Not wearied limbs confess mortality, Before those Ants that blacken all you hill Are crept into their Earth: Farewell.

Exit Hector.

Troil.

Farewell; come Greek:

Thers.

Now these Rival-rogues will clapperclaw one another, and I shall have the sport on't.

Exit Troil. with Thersites.

Enter Achilles and Myrmidons.

Achil.

Which way went Hector?

Myrmyd.

Up you sandy hill: You may discern 'em by their smoaking track; A wavering body working with bent hams Against the rising, spent with painfull march, And by loose-footing cast on heaps together.

Achill.

O thou art gone! thou sweetest, both of friends▪ Why did I let thee tempt the shock of war Ere yet thy tender nerves had strung thy limbs, And knotted into strength. Yet, though too late, I will, I will revenge the, my Patroclus! Nor shall thy Ghost thy Murtherer's long attend, But thou shalt hear him calling Charon back, Ere thou art wa••ted to the farther shore. Make hast, my Soldiers: give me this days pains. For my dead friend: strike every hand with mine, Till Hector breathless, on the ground we lay! Revenge is honour, the securest way.

Exit with Myrmidons.

[Enter Thersites, Troilus, Trojans.]

Thers.

That's Calcha's tent.

Troil.

Then that one spot of Earth contains more falshood Than all the Sun sees in his race beside. That I shou'd trust the Daughter of Priest! Priesthood, that makes a merchandise of Heaven! Priesthood that sells eve'n to their prayr's and blessings! And forces us to pay for our own cousnage!

Thers.

Nay cheats Heav'n too with entrails and with offals; Gives it the gar••idge of a Sacrifice And keeps the best of private Luxury.

Troil.

Thou hast deserv'd thy life, for cursing Priests: That back, that nose; those eyes are beautiful: Live thou, art honest; for thou hat'st a Priest.

Thers.

aside.

Farewell Trojan; if I scape with life, as I hope; and thou art knock'd o'th head, as I hope too; I shall be the first that ever scap'd the revenge of a Priest, after cursing him; and thou wilt not be the ••ast, I prophecy that a Priest will bring to ruin.

[Exit Ther.

Troil.

Me thinks my soul is rowz'd to her last work: Has much to do, and little time to spare. She starts within me, like a Traveller Who sluggishly out-slept his morning hour And mends his pace, to reach his Inn betimes.

Noise within, ••ollow, follow.

A Noise of Arms! the Traitor may be there: Or else, perhaps, that conscious scene of Love, The Tent may hold him, yet I dare not search For Oh I fear to find him in that place.

[Exit. Troilus.

Enter Calchas, Cressida.

Ceess.

Where is he? I'le be justify'd or dye.

Calch.

So quickly vanish'd! he was here but now: He must be gone to search for Diomede, For Diomede told me, here they were to fight.

Cress.

Alas! (Calch.) you must prevent, and not complain.

Cress.

If Troilus dye, I have no share in life.

Calch.

If Diomede sink beneath the sword of Troilus, We lose not only a Protector here, But are debard all future means of flight.

Cressi.

What then remains!

Calch.

To interpose betimes Betwixt their swords; or if that cannot be To intercede for him, who shall be vanquish'd, Fate leaves no middle course.—

Exit. Calchas.

Clashing within.

Cressi.

Ah me I hear e'm; And fear 'tis past prevention.

Enter Diomede, retiring before Troilus, and falling as he enters.

Troil.

Now beg thy life, or dye.

Diom.

No: use thy fortune: I loath the life, which thou canst give, or take.

Troil.

Scornst thou my mercy villain!—take thy wish.—

Cressi.

Hold, hold your hand my Lord, and hear me speak.

Troilus turns back: in which time Diomede rises; Trojans and Greeks enter, and rank themselves on both sides of their Captains.

Troil.

Did I not hear the voice of perjur'd Cressida? Com'st thou to give the last stab to my heart? As if the proofs of all thy former falshood Were not enough convincing, com'st thou now to beg my Rivals life! Whom, Oh, if any spark of truth remain'd, Thou coud'st not thus, ev'n to my face prefer!

Cressi.

What shall I say! that you suspect me false Has struck me dumb! but let him live my Troilus, By all our loves, by all our past endearments I do adjure thee spare him.

Troil.

Hell, and death!

Cressi.

If ever I had pow'r to bend your mind, Believe me still your faithful Cressida: And though my innocence appear like guilt, Because I make his forfeit life my suit, 'Tis but for this, that my return to you Wou'd be cut off for ever by his death. My father, treated like a slave and scorn'd,

My self in hated bonds a Captive held.

Troil

Cou'd I believe thee, cou'd I think thee true In triumph wou'd I bear thee back to Troy, Though Greece could rally all her shatter'd troops, And stand embatteld to oppose my way. But, Oh, thou Syren, I will stop my ears To thy enchanting notes; the winds shall bear Upon their wings, thy words more light then they.

Cressi.

Alass I but dissembled love to him; If ever he had any proof beyond What modesty might give.—

Diom.

No! witnesse this—

(the Ring shown.)

There, take her Trojan; thou deserv'st her best, You good, kind-natur'd, well-believing fools Are treasures to a woman. I was a jealous, hard vexatious Lover And doubted ev'n this pledge till full possession: But she was honourable to her word; And I have no just reason to complain.

Cressi.

O, unexampled, frontlesse impudence!

Troil.

Hell show me such another tortur'd wretch, as Troilus!

Diom.

Nay, dare grieve not: I resigne her freely up: I'm satisfi'd: and dare engage for Cressida, That if you have a promise of her person, She shall be willing to come out of debt.

Cressi.

[kneeling.]

My only Lord: by all those holy vows Which if there be a pow'r above are binding, Or, if there be a Hell below, are fearful, May every imprecation, which your rage Can wish on me, take place, if I am false.

Diom.

Nay, since you're so concern'd to be believ'd, I'm sorry I have press'd my charge so far; Be what you wou'd be thought: I can be grateful.

Troil.

Grateful! Oh torment! now hells blewest flames Receive her quick; with all her crimes upon her. Let her sink spotted down. Let the dark host Make room; and point: and hisse her, as she goes. Let the most branded Ghosts of all her Sex Rejoyce, and cry, here comes a blacker fiend. Let her—

Cressi.

Enough my Lord; you've said enough: This faithlesse, perjur'd, hated Cressida, Shall be no more, the subject of your Curses: Some few hours hence, and grief had done your work; But the your eyes had miss'd the satisfaction

Which thus I give you—thus—

[She stabs her self they both run to her.

Diom.

Help; save her, help.

Cressi.

Stand off; and touch me not, thou Traitor, Diomede: But you, my only Troilus come near: Trust me the wound which I have giv'n this breast Is far lesse painful, then the wound you gave it. Oh, can you yet believe, that I am true!

Troil.

This were too much, ev'n if thou hadst been false! But, Oh, thou purest, whitest innocence, (For such I know thee now) too late I know it! May all my curses, and ten thousand more Heavier than they, fall back upon my head, Pelion and Ossa from the Gyants graves, Be torn by some avenging Deity, And hurld at me, a bolder wretch then they, Who durst invade the Skys!

Cressi.

Hear him not Heavens! But hear me bless him with my latest breath: And since I question not your hard decree, That doom'd my days unfortunate and few, Add all to him, you take away from me; And I dye happy that he thinks me true.

[Dyes.

Troil.

She's gone for ever, and she blest me dying! Cou'd she have curs'd me worse! she dy'd for me; And like a woman, I lament for her: Distraction pulls me several ways at once, Here pity calls me to weep out my eyes; Despair then turns me back upon my self, And bids me seek no more, but finish here:

[Sword to his breast.

Ha, smilst thou Traitor, thou instruct'st me best, And turn'st my just revenge to punish thee.

Diom.

Thy worst, for mine has been before hand with thee, I triumph in thy vain credulity, Which levels thy despairing state to mine: But yet thy folly to believe a foe; Makes thine the sharper, and more shamefull loss.

Troil.

By my few moments of remaining life; I did not hope for any future joy, But thou hast given me pleasure ere I dye: To punish such a Villain.—Fight a part.

[To his Souldiers.

For Heaven and hell have mark'd him out for me, And I shou'd grudg ev'n his least drop of blood, To any other hand.—

[Troilus and Diomede fight, and both parties engage at the same time: The Trojans make the Greeks retire, and Troilus makes Diomede give ground and hurts him, Trumpets sound, Achilles Enters with his Myrmidons, on the backs of the Trojans, who fight in a Ring encompass'd round: Troilus singling Dio∣mede gets him down and kills him: and Achilles kills Troilus upon him. All the Trojans dye upon the place, Troilus last.

Enter Agamemnon, Menelaus, Ulisses, Nestor, Ajax, and Attendants.

Achill.

Our toyls are done, and those aspiring Walls (The work of Gods, and almost mateing Heaven,) Must crumble into rubbish on the plain.

Agam.

When mighty Hector fell beneath thy Sword, Their Old foundations shook, their nodding Towers Threatned from high, the amaz'd Inhabitants: And Guardian Gods for fear forsook their fanes.

Achill.

Patroclus, now be quiet: Hectors dead: And as a second offring to thy Ghost, Lyes Troilus high upon a heap of slain: And noble Diomede beneath; whose death This hand of mine reveng'd.

Ajax.

Reveng'd it basely. For Troilus fell by multitudes opprest; And so fell Hector, but 'tis vain to talk.

Vlyss.

Hayl Agamemnon! truly Victor now! While secret envy, and while open pride, Among thy factious Nobles discord threw; While publique good was urg'd for private ends, And those thought Patriots, who disturb'd it most; Then like the headstrong horses of the Sun, That light which shou'd have cheer'd the World, consum'd it: Now peacefull order has resum'd the reynes, Old time looks young, and Nature seems renew'd: Then, since from homebred Factions ruine springs, Let Subjects learn obedience to their Kings.

[Exeunt Omnes.