Farewel, my Lord-I, as your Lover, speak;

The fool flides o'er the ice that you should break. [Exit,

Pat. To this effect, Achilles, have I mov'd you;
A woman, impudent and mannish grown,
Is not more loath'd than an effeminate man
In time of act. I ftand condemn'd for this;
They think my little stomach to the war,
And your great love to me, reftrain you thus.
Oh, rouse your self! and the weak wanton Cupid
Shall from your neck unloofe his am'rous fold,
And like a dew-drop from the lion's mane,
Be shook to air.

Acbil. Shall Ajax fight with Hector!

Pat. Ay, and perhaps receive much honour by him.
Achil. I fee my reputation is at stake,

My fame is fhrewdly gor'd.

Pat. O then beware:

Those wounds heal ill that men do give themselves:
Omiffion to do what is neceffary

Seals a commiffion to a blank of danger;

And danger, like an ague, fubtly taints
Even then when we fit idly in the fun.

Achil. Go call Therfites hither, fweet Patroclus:
I'll fend the fool to Ajax, and defire him
T' invite the Trojan Lords, after the combat,
To fee us here: I have a woman's longing,
An appetite that I am fick withal,

To fee great Hector in the weeds of peace,
To talk with him," and to behold his visage,
Ev'n to my full of view.-A labour fav'd!

SCENE IX. Enter Therfites.

Ther. A wonder !

Achil. What?

Ther. Ajax goes up and down the field, asking for himself,
Acbil. How fo?

Ther. He must fight fingly to morrow with Hector, and is fo prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling, that he raves in faying nothing.

Acbil. How can that be?

Ther,

Ther. Why, he ftalks up and down like a peacock, a ftride and a stand; ruminates like an hostess that hath no arithmetick but her brain, to fet down her reckoning; bites his lip with a politick regard, as who should fay, there were wit in his head, if 'twould out; and fo there is, but it lyes as coldly in him as fire in a flint, which will not fhew without knocking. The man's undone for ever: for if Hector break not his neck i'th' combat, he'll break't himself in vain-glory. He knows not me: I faid, good morrow, Ajax, and he replied, thanks, Agamemnon. What think you of this man, that takes me for the General? he's grown a very land-fish, language-less, a monster. A plague of opinion! a man may wear it on both fides, like a leather jerkin.

Acbil. Thou must be my ambassador to him, Therfites. Ther. Who, I?why, he'll anfwer no body; he profeffes not anfwering; fpeaking is for beggars; he wears his tongue in's arms. I will put on his prefence; let Patraclus make his demands to me, you fhall fee the pageant of Ajax.

Acbil. To him, Patroclus-tell him, I humbly defire the valiant Ajax, to invite the most valorous Hector to come unarm'd to my tent, and to procure fafe conduct for his perfon of the magnanimous and most illuftrious, fix or seven times honour'd, Captain-general of the Gre cian army, Agamemnon, &c. Do this.

Pat. Jove blefs great Ajax!

Ther. Hum

Pat. I come from the worthy Achilles.
Ther. Ha!

Pat. Who most humbly desires you to invite Hector të his tent.

Ther. Hum

Pat. And to procure safe conduct from Agamemnon.

Ther. Agamemnon!

Pat. Ay, my Lord.

Ther. Ha!

Pat. What fay you to't?

Ther. God be wi'you, with all my heart.

Pat. Your answer, Sir,

Ther

Ther. If to-morrow be a fair day, by eleven a clock it will go one way or other; howfoever, he fhall pay for me ere he has me.

Pat. Your answer, Sir.

Ther. Fare ye well, with all my heart.

Achil. Why, but he is not in this tune, is he?

Ther. No, but he's out o' tune thus; what mufick will be in him, when Hector has knock'd out his brains, I know But I am fure none; unless the fidler Apollo get his finews to make Catlings on.

not.

Achil. Come, thou fhalt bear a letter to him ftraight. Ther. Let me carry another to his horfe; for that's the more capable creature.

Achil. My mind is troubled like a fountain ftirr'd,
And I my self fee not the bottom of it.

[Exit. Ther. Would the fountain of your mind were clear again, that I might water an afs at it; I had rather be a tick in a fheep, than fuch a valiant ignorance.

ACT IV. SCENE I.

[Exeunt.

Enter at one door Æneas with a torch; at another, Paris,
Deiphobus, Antenor, and Diomede with torches.
EE, ho! who is that there?

Par.

Dei. It is the Lord Æneas.

Ene. Is the Prince there in perfon?

Had I fo good occafion to lye long,

As you, Prince Paris, nought but heav'nly bufinefs
Should rob my bed-mate of my company.

Dio. That's my mind too good-morrow, Lord Æneas.
Par. A valiant Greek, Eneas, take his hand;
Witness the procefs of your fpeech, wherein
You told, how Diomede a whole week by days
Did haunt you in the field.

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

Dio. The one and th' other Diomede embraces.
Our bloods are now in calm, and fo long, health :

But

But when contention and occafion meet,
By Jove I'll play the hunter for thy life,
With all my force, puffuit and policy.

Ene. And thou shalt hunt a lion that will flie
With his face back-in human gentleness
Welcome to Troy-now by Anchifes' life,
Welcome indeed-by Venus' hand I swear,
No man alive can love in fuch a fort

The thing he means to kill, more excellently.
Dio. We fympathize. Jove, let Eneas live
(If to my fword his fate be not the glory)
A thousand compleat courfes of the fun :
But in mine emulous honour let him die,
With every joint a wound, and that to-morrow.
Ene, We know each other well.

Dio. We do; and long to know each other worfe.
Par. This is the most defpightful, gentle greeting,
The nobleft, hateful love, that e'er I heard of.
What bufinefs, Lord, fo early?

Ene. I was fent for to the King; but why, I know not.
Par. His purpose meets you: 'twas, to bring this Greek
To Calchas' houfe, and there to render him
(For the enfree'd Antenor) the fair Creffid.
Let's have your company; or, if you pleafe,
Hafte there before. I conftantly do think
(Or rather call my thought a certain knowlege)
My brother Troilus lodges there to-night..
Roufe him, and give him note of our approach;
With the whole quality whereof, I fear,
We fhall be much unwelcome,

Ene. That affure you.

Troilus had rather Troy were born to Greece,
Than Creffid born from Troy.

Par. There is no help;

The bitter difpofition of the time

Will have it fo. On, Lord, we'll follow you.

Ene. Good morrow all.

[Exit

Par. And tell me, noble Diomede; tell me true,

Ev'n in the foul of good found fellowship,

Who in your thoughts merits fair Helen moft ?

My

. My felf, or Menelaus ?

.

Dio. Both alike.

He merits well to have her that doth feek her
(Not making any fcruple of her foilure,)
With fuch a hell of pain, and world of charge.
And you as well to keep her, that defend her
(Not palating the taste of her dishonour,)
With fuch a coftly lofs of wealth and friends.
He, like a puling cuckold, would drink up
The lees and dregs of a flat tamed piece;
You, like a letcher, out of whorish loins
Are pleas'd to breed out your inheritors:
Both merits pois'd, each weighs nor lefs nor more,
But he as you, the heavier for a whore.

Par. You are too bitter to your country-woman.
Dio. She's bitter to her country: hear me, Paris,
For ev'ry falfe drop in her baudy veins

A Grecian's life hath funk; for every scruple
Of her contaminated carrion weight,

A Trojan hath been flain. Since the could fpeak,
She hath not giv'n fo many good words breath,
As, for her, Greeks and Trojans fuffer'd death.'
Par. Fair Diomede, you do as chapmen do,
Difpraise the thing that you defire to buy:
But we in filence hold this virtue well;

We'll not commend what w' intend not to fell..
Here lyes our way.

SCENE II. Pandarus's Houfe.
Enter Troilus and Creffida.

[Exeunt,

Troi. Dear, trouble not your felf; the morn is cold. Cre. Then, fweet my Lord, I'll call my uncle down; He fhall unbolt the gates.

Troi. Trouble him not

To bed, to bed fleep feal thofe pretty eyes,

And give as foft attachment to thy fenfes,

As infants empty of all thought!

Cre. Good-morrow then.

Troi. I pr'ythee now to bed.
Cre. Are you a weary of me?

Troi. O. Creffida! but that the bufie day,

Wak'd