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Mock not, that I affect the untraded oath;
Your quondam wife fwears ftill by Venus' glove:
She's well, but bade me not commend her to you.
Men. Name her not now, fir; fhe's a deadly
theme.

Hect. O, pardon; I offend.

Neft. I have, thou gallant Trojan, feen thee oft,
Labouring for deftiny, make cruel way [thee,
Through ranks of Greekith youth and I have feen
As hot as Perfeus, fpur thy Phrygian fteed,
Defpifing many forfeits and fubduements,
When thou haft hung thy advanced fword i'the air,
Not letting it decline on the declin'd;
That I have faid to fome my ftanders-by,
Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life!

And I have feen thee paufe, and take thy breath,
When that a ring of Greeks have hemm'd thee in,]
Like an Olympian wrestling: This have I feen;
But this thy countenance, ftill lock'd in steel,
I never faw 'till now. I knew thy grandfire,
And once fought with him: he was a foldier good;
But, by great Mars, the captain of us all,
Never like thee: Let an old man embrace thee;
And, worthy warrior, welcome to our tents.
Ent. 'Tis the old Neftor.

Hed. Let me embrace thee, good old chronicle,
That haft fo long walk'd hand in hand with time :-
Moft reverend Neftor, I am glad to clafp thee.
Neft. I would, my arms could match thee in
contention,

As they contend with thee in courtesy.

Het. I would they could.

Neft. Ha! by this white beard, I'd fight with

thee to-morrow.

Acbil. I am Achilles.

[thee.

He. Stand fair, I pray thee: let me look on
Acil. Behold thy fill.

Hect. Nay, I have done already.

Achil. Thou art too brief; I will the fecond time,
As I would buy thee, view thee limb by limb.
Het. O, like a book of fport thou'lt read me
o'er ;

But there's more in me, than thou understand'st.
Why doft thou fo opprefs me with thine eye >
Achil. Tell me, you heavens, in which part of
his body
[there?
Shall I deftroy him? whether there, there, or
That I may give the local wound a name ;
And make diftinct the very breach whereout
Hector's great spirit flew: Answer me, heavens!
Hect. It would difcredit the bleft gods, proud

man,

To answer fuch a question: Stand again:
Think't thou to catch my life fo pleafantly,
As to prenominate in nice conjecture,
Where thou wilt hit me dead?

Achil. I tell thee, yea.

Het. Wert thou an oracle to tell me fo,
I'd not believe thee. Henceforth guard thee well;
For I'll not kill thee there, nor there, nor there;
But, by the forge that ftithy'd Mars his helm,
I'll kill thee every where, yea, o'er and o'er.-
You wifeft Grecians, pardon me this brag,
His infolence draws folly from my lips;
But I'll endeavour deeds to match these words,
Or may I never—————

Ajax. Do not chafe thee, coufin ;-
And you, Achilles, let thefe threats alone,

Well, welcome, welcome! I have feen the time-'Till accident, or purpofe, bring you to 't :

Ulyf. I wonder now how yonder city stands,
When we have here her bafe and pillar by us.
Met. I know your favour, lord Ulyffes, well.
Ah, fir, there's many a Greek and Trojan dead,
Since first I faw yourself and Diomed
In Ilion, on your Greekith embally.

Ulys. Sir, I foretold you then what would enfue:
My prophecy is but half his journey yet;
For yonder walls that pertly front your town,
Yon towers, whofe wanton tops do bufs the clouds,
Muft kifs their own feet.

Hell. I must not believe you :
There they ftand yet; and modeftly I think,
The fall of every Phrygian stone will coft
A drop of Grecian blood: The end crowns all;
And that old common arbitrator, time,
Will one day end it.

Ulyf. So to him we leave it.

Moft gentle, and most valiant Hector, welcome :
After the general, I befeech you next
To feaft with me, and fee me at my tent.

Achil. I shall foreftall thee, lord Ulyffes, thou!
Now, Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee;
I have with exact view perus'd thee, Hector;
And quoted 2 joint by joint.

Het. Is this Achilles ?

You may have every day enough of Hector,
If you have ftomach; the general state, I fear,
Can fcarce entreat you to be odd with him.

Hect. I pray you, let us fee you in the field;
We have had pelting wars, fince you refus'd
The Grecians' caufe.

Adil. Doft thou entreat me, Hector?
To-morrow do I meet thee, fell as death;
To-night, all friends.

Het. Thy hand upon that match.

Aga. First, all you peers of Greece, go to my tent;
There in the full convive 3 we: afterwards,
As Hector's leifure and your bounties thall
Concur together, feverally entreat him.--
Beat loud the tabourines 4, let the trumpets blów,
That this great foldier may his welcome law.
[Exeunt.

Manent Troilu, and Vivifes.
Troi. My lord Ulyffes, tell me, I beseech you,
In what place of the field doth Calchas keep?

Ulyf. At Menelaus' tent, moft princely Troilus:
There Diomed doth feast with him to-night;
Who neither looks on heaven, nor on the earth,
But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view
On the fair Creffid.
[much,
Trai. Shall I, fweet lord, be bound to you so

The repetition of thou! was anciently ufed by one who meant to infult another. 2 i. e. obferved. 4 Labourines are small drums.

3. To convice is to feast.

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After we part from Agamemnon's tent,
To bring me thither?

Ulvi. You fhall command me, fir.

As gentle tell me, of what honour was

This Creffida in Troy? Had the no lover there,
That wails her abfence?

Troi. O, fir, to fuch as boasting fhew their fears,
A mock is due. Will you walk on, my lord?
She was belov'd, the lov'd; fhe is, and doth:
But, ftill, fweet love is food for fortune's tooth.
[Exent.

А A C T

V.

SCENE I.

Achilles' Tent.

Enter Achilles, and Patroclus.

Ther. Finch egg!

Acbil. My fweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite From my great purpose in to-morrow's battle. Here is a letter from queen Hecuba;

'LL heat his blood with Greekish wine A token from her daughter, my fair love;

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I'LL

to-night,

Which with my fcimitar I'll cool to-morrow.

Patroclus, let us feast him to the height.

Patr. Here comes Therfites.

Enter They fites.

Achil. How now, thou core of envy ? Thou crufty batch of nature, what's the news? Ther. Why, thou picture of what thou seemeft, and idol of ideot-worshippers, here's a letter thee.

Achil. From whence, frigment?

for

Ther. Why, thou full dith of fool, from
Patr. Who keeps the tent now?
Ther. The furgeon's box, or the patient's wound.
Patr. Well faid, adversity! and what need these
tricks?

Ther. Prythee be filent, boy; I profit not by thy talk thou art thought to be Achilles' male varlet.

Both taxing me, and gaging me to keep

An oath that I have fworn. I will not break it:
Fall, Greeks; fail, fame; honour, or go or flay;
My major vows lie here, this I'll obey.—
Come, come, Therfites, help to trim my tent;
This night in banquetting must all be spent.-
Away, Patroclus.
[Exeunt

Thur. With too much blood, and too little brain, thefe two may run mad; but if with too much brain, and too little blood, they do, I'll be a curer of madmen. Here's Agamemnon-an boneft Troy.fellow enough, and one that loves quails; but he hath not fo much brain as ear-wax: And the goodly transformation of Jupiter there, his brother, the bull,—the primitive statue, and oblique 3 memorial of cuckolds; a thrifty fhoeing-horn in a chain, hanging at his brother's leg,—to what form, but that he is, fhould wit larded with malice, and malice forced 4 with wit, turn him? To an aís, Patr. Male varlet, you rogue! what's that? were nothing; he is both afs and ox: to an os Ther. Why, his mafculine whore. Now the were nothing; he is both ox and ass. To be a rotten difeafes of the fouth, the guts-griping, rup-dog, a mule, a cat, a fitchew, a toad, a lizard, an tures, catarrhs, loads o' gravel i' the back, lethar-owl, a puttock, or a herring without a roe, I gies, cold palfies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten livers, would not care: but to be a Menelaus,I would wheezing lungs, bladders full of impofthume, fci-confpire against destiny. Afk me not what i aticas, lime-kilns i' the palm, incurable bone-ach, would be, if I were not Therfites; for I care not and the rivell'd fee-fimple of the tetter, take and to be the loufe of a lazar, so I were not Menetake again fuch prepofterous discoveries! laus.Hey-day! fpirits, and fires!

Patr. Why, thou damnable box of envy, thou, what meaneft thou to curfe thus ?

Ther. Do I curfe thee?

Patr. Why, no, you ruinous butt; you whorefon indiftinguishable cur, no.

Ther. No? why art thou then exasperate, thou idle immaterial fkein of fleive filk, thou green farcenct flap for a fore eye, thou taffel of a prodigal's purie, thou? Ah, how the poor world is pelter'd with fuch water flies; diminutives of nature!

Patr. Out, gall!

Enter Hector, Troilus, Ajax, Agamemnon, Ulyffes,
Neflor, and Diomed, with lights.
Aga. We go wrong, we go wrong.
Ajax. No, yonder 'tis ;
There, where we fee the light.
Het. I trouble you.
Ajax. No, not a whit.

Ulf. Here comes himself to guide you.
Enter Achilles.

Achil. Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, princes all.

1 Batch fignifies all that is baked at one time, without heating the over afresh. A batch of bread is a phrafe till med in Staffordshire. Therlites had already been called colloaf. By loving quails the poet may mean loving the company of hailots. A quail is remarkably falacious. 3 The author of The Revifal obferves, that "the memorial is called oblique, because it was only indirectly fuch, upon the common fuppofition that both bulls and cuckolds were furnished with horns." * i. c. Antied with wit. Aga.

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That go, or tarry.

Aga. Good night. [Exeunt Agam, and Menel. Achil. Old Neftor tarries; and you too, Diomed, Keep Hector company an hour or two.

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

Ulyf. Follow his torch, he goes to Calchas' tent;
I'll keep you company.
[To Troilus.

Troi. Sweet fir, you honour me.
Het. And fo, good night.
Achil. Come, come, enter my tent.

[Exeunt feverally.
Ther. That fame Diomed's a falfe-hearted rogue,
a most unjust knave; I will no more truft him
when he leers, than I will a ferpent when he
hilles: he will fpend his mouth, and promise,
like Brabler the hound; but when he performs,
astronomers foretel it; it is prodigious, there will
come fome change; the fun borrows of the moon,
when Diomed keeps his word. I will rather leave
to fee Hector, than not to dog him: they fay, te
keeps a Trojan drab, and ufes the traitor Calchas
his tent : I'll after.-Nothing but lechery! all in
[Exit.

Continent varlets!

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Enter Troilus, and Ulyffes, at a difiance; after them
Therfites.

Ulyf. Stand where the torch may not discover us.
Enter Greffids.

Troi. Creffid come forth to him!

Dio. How now, my charge?

Cre. Now, my fweet guardian !-Hark, A word with you.

Troi. Yea, fo familiar!

[Whispers.

Ulyf. She will fing any man at first fight,
Ther. And any man

May fing her, if he can take her cliff2; she's noted.
Dio. Will you remember?

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

Gre. In faith, I cannot: What would you have me do?

Ther. A juggling trick, to be-fecretly open. Dio. What did you fwear you would bestow on me?

Cre. I pr'ythee, do not hold me to mine oath;
Bid me do any thing but that, fweet Greek.
Dio. Good night.

Troi. Hold, patience!

Ulyj. How now, Trojan?

Cre. Diomed,

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

more.

Troi. Thy better must.

[pray you

Cre. Hark, one word in your ear.
Troi. O plague and madness!
Ulyf. You are mov'd, prince; let us depart, I
Left your difpleasure should enlarge itself
To wrathful terms; this place is dangerous;
The time right deadly; I befeech you, go.
Trei. Behold, I pray you!

Ulyf. Now, good my lord, go off:
You flow to great diftraction 3: come, my lord.
Troi. 1 prythee, stay.

Uly. You have not patience; come. [torments,
Troi. I pray you, ftay; by hell, and by hell's
I will not fpeak a word.

Dio. And fo, good night.

Cre. Nay, but you part in anger.
Trai. Doth that grieve thee?

O wither'd truth!

Ulyf. Why, how now, lord ?
Troi. By Jove, I will be patient.
Cre. Guardian--why, Greek!
Dio. Pho, pho! adieu; you palter.

Cre. In faith, I do not; come hither once again.
Uly. You shake, my lord, at fomething; will
you go?
You will break out.

Troi. She ftrokes his cheek!
Ulyf. Come, come.

[word:

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

A guard of patience :-ftay a little while.

Ther. How the devil luxury, with his fat rump, and potatoe finger, tickles thefe together 41 Fry, lechery, fry!

1 If a hound gives his mouth, and is not upon the fcent of the game, he is by fportsmen called habler or brabler. 2 Cliff, is a mark in mulick at the beginning of the lines of a fong; and is the indication of the pitch, and bespeaks what kind of voice- as bale, tenour, treble, it is proper for. 3 The meaning is, The tide of your imagination will hurry you either to noble death from the hand of Diomed, or to the height of madness from the predominance of your own paffions. 4 Mr. Collins explains this paffage thus: "Luxuria was the appropriate term ufed by school divines, to exprefs the fin of incontinence, which accordingly is called luxury, in all our old Englih writers. But LII 3 why

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Ulyf. Why stay we then?

Troi. To make a recordation to my foul

He lov'd me-O falfe wench!-Give 't me again. Of every fyllable that here was spoke.
Dio. Whofe was 't?

Cre. It is no matter, now I have 't again.

I will not meet with you to-morrow night:
I pr'ythee, Diomed, vifit me no more.

Ther. Now the fharpens :-Well faid, whetstone.
Dio. I fhall have it.
Cre. What, this?

Dio. Ay, that.

Cre. O, all you gods !--O pretty pretty pledge !
Thy mafter now lies thinking in his bed
Of thee, and me; and fighs, and takes my glove,
And gives memorial dainty kifles to it,

As I kifs thee.-Nay, do not fnatch it from me ;
He, that takes that, must take my heart withal.
Dio. I had your heart before, this follows it.
Troi. I did fwear patience.

But, if I tell how these two did co-act,
Shall I not ly in publishing a truth?
Sith yet there is a credence in my heart,
An efperance fo obftinately strong,

That doth invert the atteft of eyes and ears;
As if thofe organs had deceptious functions,
Created only to calumniate.
Was Crefid here?

Ulf. I cannot conjure, Trojan.
Troi. She was not, fure.
Ulyf. Moft fure, fhe was.

Troi. Why, my negation hath no taste of madness.
Ulf. Nor mine, my lord: Creifid was here

but now.

Troi. Let it not be believ'd for womanhood! Think, we had mothers; do not give advantage

Gre. You fhall not have it, Diomed; 'faith you To ftubborn critics-apt, without a theme,

fhall not;

I'll give you fomething elfe.

Dio. I will have this; Whofe was it?
Cre. It is no matter.

Dio. Come, tell me whofe it was.

[will.

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

Dio. Whofe was it?

Cre. By all Diana's waiting-women yonder 2, And by herself, I will not tell you whose.

Dio. To-morrow will I wear it on my helm; And grieve his fpirit, that dares not challenge it. Trei. Wer't thou the devil, and wor'ft it on thy horn,

It should be challeng'd.

[is not;

Gre. Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis past ;-And yet it I will not keep my word.

Dio. Why then, farewel;

Thou never fhalt mock Diomed again.

For depravation-to fquare the general fex
By Crethid's rule: rather think this not Creffid.
Ulyf. What hath the done, prince, that can fol

our mothers?

Trei. Nothing at all, unless that this were the.
Ther. Will he fwagger himself out on's own eyes?
Troi. This the? no, this is Diomed's Creffida:
If beauty have a foul, this is not she ;
If fouls guide vows, if vows be fanctimony,
If fanctimony be the gods' delight,
If there be rule in unity itself 4,
This is not the. O madness of difcourfe,
That cause sets up with and against itself!
Bi-fold authority! where reafon can revolt
Without perdition, and lofs affume all reaton
Without revoit 5; this is, and is not, Crefsid!
Within my foul there doth commence a fight
Of this ftrange nature, that a thing infeparte
Divides far wider than the fky and earth;

Gre. You fhall not go :--One cannot speak a word, And yet the spacious breadth of this divifion

But it ftraight starts you.

Dic. I do not like this fooling.

Admits no orifice for a point, as fubtle
As Arachne's broken woof, to enter.

Ther. Nor I, by Pluto: but that that likes not you, Inftance, O inftance! strong as Pluto's gates; Pleases me best.

Dio. What, fhall I come? the hour?

Creffid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven:
Inftance, O inftance! ftrong as Heaven itself;

why is luxury, or lafciviousness, said to have a potatoe finger?—This root, which was in our Author's time but newly imported from America, was confidered as a rare exotic, and efteemed a very trong provocative."

It was anciently the custom to wear a lady's fleeve for a favour. 2 i. e. the ftars which the points to. 3 i. e. the could not publish a stronger proof. unity, if it be a rule that one is one.

4 That is, If there be certainty in 5 The words lefs and petion are ufed in their common fense, but they mean the loss or perdition of reason. The

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The bonds of heaven are flipp'd, diffolv'd, and
loos'd;

And with another knot, five-finger-tied',
The fractions of her faith, orts of her love,
The fragments, fcraps, the bits, and greafy reliques
Of her o'er-eaten 2 faith, are bound to Diomed.
Ulf. May worthy Troilus be half attach'd
With that which here his paffion doth exprefs?
Troi. Ay, Greek; and that fhall be divulged well
In characters as red as Mars his heart
Inflam'd with Venus: never did young man fancy
With fo eternal, and fo fix'd a foul.

Hark, Greek ;-As much as I do Crefid love,
So much by weight hate I her Diomed:
That fleeve is mine, that he'll bear on his helm;
Were it a cafque compos'd by Vulcan's skill,
My fword fhould bite it: not the dreadful spout,
Which shipmen do the hurricano call,
Conftring'd in mafs by the almighty fun,
Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptune's ear
In his defcent, than fhall my prompted fword
Falling on Diomed.

Ther. He'll tickle it for his concupy.

Troi. O Creflid! O falfe Creflid! falfe, falfe, falfe!
Let all untruths ftand by thy ftained name,
And they'll feem glorious.

Uly. O, contain yourself;

Your paffion draws ears hither.

Enter Æneas.

Ene. I have been feeking you this hour, my Hector, by this, is arming him in Troy;

Ajax, your guard, stays to conduct

you

home.

lord:

Troi. Have with you, prince :-My courteous
lord, adieu:-

Farewel, revolted fair!-and, Diomed,
Stand faft, and wear a caftle 3 on thy head!
Uly. I'll bring you to the gates.
Troi. Accept diftracted thanks.

[Exeunt Troilus, Æneas, and Ulyffes. Ther. 'Would, I could meet that rogue Dionied! I would croak like a raven; I would bode, I would bode. Patroclus will give me any thing for the intelligence of this whore: the parrot will not do more for an almond, than he for a commodious drab. Lechery, lechery; ftill, wars and lechery; nothing else holds fashion: A burning devil take them!

SCENE

The Palace of Troy.

III.

Enter Hector, and Andromache.

[Exit.

And. When was my lord fo much ungently
temper'd,

To stop his cars against admonishment ?
Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to-day.

Hect. You train me to offend you; get you in:
By all the everlasting gods, I'll go.

[day.

Enter Calandra.

Caf. Where is my brother Hector?
And. Here, fifter; arm'd, and bloody in intent:
Confort with me in loud and dear petition,
Purfue we him on knees; for I have dreamt
Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night [ter.
Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of flaugh-
Caf. O, it is true.

Het. Ho! bid my trumpet found!

Caf. No notes of fally, for the heavens, sweet
[fwear.
brother.
Hect. Begone, fay the gods have heard me
Caf. The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows;
They are polluted offerings, more abhorr'd
Than spotted livers in the facrifice.

And. O be perfuaded: Do not count it holy
To hurt by being just it is as lawful
For us to count we give what's gain'd by thefts,
And rob in the behalf of charity.

Caf. It is the purpose, that makes ftrong the vow;
But vows to every purpose must not hold :
Unarm, fweet Hector.

fate:

He&t. Hold you ftill, I fay;
Mine honour keeps the weather of my
Life every man holds dear; but the dear + man
Holds honour far more precious-dear than life.-
Enter Troilus.

How now, young man? mean'st thou to fight to-
day?

And. Caffandra, call my father to perfuade.
[Exit Caffandra.
He. No, 'faith, young Troilus; doff 5 thy har-
nefs, youth;

I am to-day i' the vein of chivalry:

Let grow thy finews 'till their knots be strong,
And tempt not yet the brushes of the war.
Unarm thee, go; and doubt thou not, brave boy,
I'll ftand, to-day, for thee, and me, and Troy.

Troi. Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you,
Which better fits a lion, than a man.

Hect. What vice is that, good Troilus? chide

me for it.

Troi. When many times the captive Grecians fall,
Even in the fan and wind of your fair fword,
You bid them rife, and live.

Hect. O, 'tis fair play.

Troi. Fool's play, by heaven, Hector.
Het. How now how now?
Troi. For the love of all the gods,

Let's leave the hermit pity with our mother;
And when we have our armours buckled on,
The venom'd vengeance ride upon our fwords;
Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth.
Hec. Fie, favage, fie!

Troi. Hector, then 'tis wars.

Hect. Troilus, I would not have you fight to-day.
Troi. Who fhould withhold me?

And. My dreams will, fure, prove ominous to-Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars
Beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire;
He. No more, I fay.

A knot tied by giving her hand to Diomed.

once over.

2 Vows which he has already fwallowed 3 It has been before ob4 i. c. the valuable man.

We ftill fay of a faithless man, that he has eaten his words. ferved in note 1, p. 843, that by a cafe was meant a close helmet. si. e. put off.

L114

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