The very wings of reafor to his heels,
And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove,

:

Or like a ftar diforb'd !- Nay, if we talk of reafon,
Let's fhut our gates, and fleep manhood and honour
Should have hare hearts, would they but fat their
thoughts

With this cramm'd reafon : reafon and respect.
Make livers pale, and luftyhood deject.

Hect. Brother, fhe is not worth what fhe doth coft The holding.

Troi. What is aught but as 'tis valued?

Hect. But value dwells not in particular will;

It holds its estimate and dignity,

As well wherein 'tis precious of itself,
As in the prizer: 'tis mad idolatry,
To make the fervice greater than the god;
And the will doats, that is inclinable
To what infectiously itself affects,
Without fome image of th' affected's merit.
Troi. I take to-day a wife, and my election
Is led on in the conduct of my will;
My will inkindled by mine eyes and ears,
Two traded pilots 'twixt the dangerous fhores
Of will and judgment; how i may avoid
(Although my will diftafte what is elected)
The wife I chufe? there can be no evafion
To blench from this, and to stand firm by honour.
We turn not back the filks upon the merchant,
When we have spoil'd them; nor th' remainder viands
We do not throw in unrefpective place,

Because we now are full. It was thought meet,
Paris fhould do, fome vengeance on the Greeks :
Your breath of full content bellied his fails;
The feas and winds (old ranglers) took a truce,
And did him fervice he touch'd the ports defir'd;
And, for an old aunt, whom the Greeks held captive,
He brought a Grecian Queen. whofe youth and freshness
Wrinkles Apollo's, and makes itale the morning.
Why keep we her, the Grecians keep our aunt:
Is the worth keeping? Why, the is a pearl,
Whofe price hath launch'd above a thoufand fairs,
And turn'd crown'd Kings to merchants
B b

VOL. VII.

If you'll avouch, 'twas wisdom Paris went,
(As you must needs, for you all cry'd, Go, go);
If you'll confefs, he brought home noble prize,
(As you must needs, for you all clapp'd your hands,
And cry'd, Ineftimable !); why do you now
The iffue of your proper wifdoms rate,
And do a deed that Fortune never did,
Beggar that eftimation which you priz'd
Richer than fea and land? O theft most base!
What we have ftoln that we do fear to keep!
Bafe thieves, unworthy of a thing fo ftoln !
Who in their country did them that disgrace,
We fear to warrant in our native place !

.

Caf. [within] Cry, Trojans, cry!

Pri. What noife, what thriek is this?

Troi. 'Tis our mad fifter, I do know her voice.
Caf. [within.] Cry, Trojans!

Enter Caffandra, with her hair about her ears.

Caf. Cry, Trojans, cry; lend me ten thousand eyes, And I will fill them, with prophetic tears.

Hect. Peace, filter, peace.

Caf. Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled old, Soft infancy, that nothing can but cry,

Add to my clamour! let us pay betimes

A moiety of that mafs of moan to come :

Cry, Trojans, cry; practife your eyes with tears.
Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand:
Our fire-brand brother, Paris burns us all.
Cry, Trojans, cry! a Helen and a woe;

Cry, cry, Troy burns, or elie let Helen go.

[Exit.

Hect. Now, youthful Troilus, do not thefe high

Of divination in our filter work

[Atrains

Some touches of remorfe? Or is your blood

So madly hot, that no difcourfe of reafon,

Nor fear of bad fuccefs in a bad cause,
Can qualify the fame?

Troi. Why, brother Hector,

We may not think the juftness of each act

Such and no other than event doth form it;
Nor once deject the courage of our minds,
Because Caffandra's mad; her brain-fick raptures
Cannot diftate the goodness of a quarrel,
Which hath our feveral honours all engag'd
To make it gracious. For my private part,
I am no more touch'd than all Priam's fons;
And, Jove forbid there fhould be done amongst us
Such things, as might offend the weakeft fpleen
To fight for and maintain.

Par. Elfe might the world convince of levity
As well my undertakings, as your counfels:
But I atteft the gods, your full confent
Gave wings to my propenfion, and cut off
All fears attending on fo dire a project
For what, alas, can these my fingle arms?
What propugnation is in one man's valour,
To ftand the pufh and enmity of thofe
This quarrel would excite? yet I protest,
Were I alone to país the difficulties,
And had as ample power as I have will,
Paris fhould ne'er retract what he hath done,.
Nor faint in the pursuit.

Pri. Paris, you speak

Like one befotted on your sweet delights;
You have the honey ftill, but these the gall;
So, to the valiant, is no praife at all.

Par. Sir, I propose not merely to myfelf
The pleasures fuch a beauty brings with it:
But I would have the foil of her fair rape
Wip'd off, in honourable keeping her.
What treafon were it to the ranfack'd Queen,
Difgrace to your great worths, and fhame to me,
Now to deliver her poffeffion up,

On terms of bafe compulfion? can it be,

That fo degenerate a train, as this,

Should once fet footing in your generous bofoms?

There's not the meanett fpirit in our party,

Without a heart to dare, or fword to draw,
When Helen is defended: none fo noble,
Whofe life were ill beftow'd, or death unfam'd;
When Helen is the fubject. Then, I fay,.

B. b. 2.

Well may we fight for her, whom we know well,
The world's large fpaces cannot parallel

Het Paris and Troilus, you have both faid well:
But on the cause and question now in hand
Have gloz'd but fuperficially; not much
Unlike young men, whom Ariftotle thought
Unfit to hear moral philofophy.

The reafons you alledge, do more conduce
To the hot paffion of diftemper'd blood,

Than to make up a free determination

'Twist right and wrong: "for Pleasure and Revenge "Have ea's more deaf than adders, to the voice

"Of any true decifion. Nature craves

All dues be render'd to their owners; now
What nearer debt in all humanity,

Than wife is to the husband? If this law
Of nature be corrupted through affection,
And that great minds, of partial indulgence
To their benummed wills, refift the fame;
There is a law in each well order'd nation,
To curb thofe aging appetites that are
Moft difobedient and refractory.
If Helen then be wife to Sparta's King,
(As it is known fhe is), thefe moral laws
of nature, and of nation, fpeak aloud
To have her back return'd. Thus to perfift

In doing wrong extenuates not wrong,

But makes it much more heavy. Hector's opinion Is this in way of truth; yet ne'ertheless,

My sprightly brethren, I propend to you

In refolution to keep Helen still;

For 'tis a caufe that hath no mean dependence

Upon our joint and feveral dignities.

Troi. Why, there you touch'd the life of our design: Were it not glory that we more affected

Than the performance of our having spleens,

I would not with a drop of Trojan blood

Spent more in her defence. But, worthy Hector,
She is a theme of honour and renown;
A fpur to valiant and magnanimous deeds;
Whole prefent courage may beat down our foes,
And fame, in time to come, canonize us.

For, I préfume, brave Hector would not lofe
So rich advantage of a promis'd glory,
As fmiles upon the forehead of this action,
For the wide world's revenue.

Heft. I am yours,

You valiant offspring of great Priamus.
I have a roifting challenge fent amongst
The dull and factious nobles of the Greeks,
Will ftrike amafement to their drowly fpirits.
I was advertis'd, their great General slept,
Whilst emulation in the army crept:
This, I prefume, will wake him.

[Exeunt:

Before Achilles's tent, in the Gracian Camp.

Enter Therfites folus.

How now, Therfites? what, loft in the labyrinth of thy fury? fhall the elephant Ajax carry it thus? he beats me, and I rail at him: O worthy fatisfaction'! 'would it were otherwife; that i could beat him whilst he rail'd at me: 'stoot, I'll learn to conjure and raise devils, but I'll fee fome iffue of my fpiteful execrations. Then there's Achilles, a rare engineer. It iroy be not taken till these two undermine it, the walls will stand till they fall of themselves O thou great thunder-darter of Olympus, forget that thou art Jove the King of God's; and, Mercury, lofe all the ferpentine craft of thy Caduceus, if thou take not that little, little, less than little : wit from them that they have; which thort arun'd ignorance itself knows is fo abundant fcarce, it will not in circumvention deliver a fly from a spider, without drawing the maffy irons and cutting the web. Alter this, the vengeance on the whole camp! or rather the boneach, for that, methinks, is the curfe dependent on thofe : that war for a placket. I have faid my prayers, and devil Envy fay Amen. What ho! my Lord Achilles !

Enter Patroclus.

Pat. Who's there? Therfites? Good Therfites,, come in and rail.

Ther. It I could have remember'd a gilt counter, thou