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ven times honour'd Captain, General of the Grecian Army, Agamemnon, &c. Do this.

Patr. Jove blefs great Ajax.

Ther. Hum

Patr. I.come from the worthy Achilles.

Ther. Ha!

Patr. Who most humbly defires you to invite Hector to his Tent.

Ther. Hum

Patr. And to procure fafe Coduct from Agamemnon.

Ther. Agamemnon!

Patr. Ay, my Lord.

Ther. Ha!

Patr. What fay you to't?

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

Patr. Your anfwer, Sir.

Ther. If to Morrow be a fair Day, by eleven a Clock, it will go one way or other; how foever, he thall pay for me e'er he has me.

Patr. Your anfwer, 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 a tune thus ; what Mufick he will be in, when Hector has knockt out his Brains, I know not. But I am fure none; unless the Fidler Apollo get his Sinews to make Catlings on.

Achil. Come, thou shalt 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 stirr'd, And I my felf fee not the bottom of it.


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 Sheep, than fuch a valiant Ignorance.




Enter at one Door Eneas with a Torch, at another, Paris, Deiphobus, Anthenor, and Diomede with Torches.

Por. Dei. It is the Lord Eneas.

EE ho, who is that there?

Ene. Is the Prince there in Perfon?
Had I fo good occafion to lie long,

As you, Prince Paris, nothing but heav'nly business
Should rob my Bed-mate of my Company.

Dio. That's my Mind too: Good Morrow, Lord Æneas.
Par. A valiant Greek, Æneas, take his Hand,

Witness the process of your Speech within;

You told, how Diomede, a whole Week, by Days
Did haunt you in the Field.

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Ane. 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 when Contention and Occafion meet,
By Jove, I'll play the Hunter for thy Life,
With all my Force, Purfuit and Policy.

Ene. And thou fhalt hunt a Lion that will flie
With his Face backward in human gentleness:
Welcome to Troy- now by Anchifes's Life,
Welcome indeed- By Venus Hand I fwear,
No Man alive can love in fuch a fort,
The thing he means to kill, more excellently.
Dio. We fympathize. Jove, let Æneas live
(If to my Sword his Fate be not the glory)
A thousand compleat courfes of the Sun:
But in mine emulous Honour let him die,
With every Joint a wound, and that to Morrow.
Ane. We know each other well.

Dio. We do; and long to know each other worfe.


Par. This is the most defpightfull'ft, gentle Greeting; The nobleft, hateful Love, that e'er I heard of. What Bufinefs, Lord, fo early?

Ane. I was fent for to the King; but why, I know not. Par. His purpose meets you; it was, to bring this Greek To Calchas's Houfe, and there to render him,

For the enfreed Anthenor, the fair Creffid.
Let's have your Company; or, if you please,
Hafte there before us. I conftantly do think
(Or rather call my Thought a certain Knowledge)
My Brother Troilus lodges there to Night.
Roufe him, and give him note of our approach,
With the whole Quality whereof, I fear
We shall be much unwelcome.

Ane. That I 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 Eneas.

Par. And tell me, Noble Diomede; faith tell me true,

Even in the Soul of good found Fellowship,

Who in your thoughts merits fair Helen most?

My felf, or Menelaus?

Dio. Both alike.

He merits well to have her that doth feek her,
Not making any fcruple of her Soilure,
With fuch a Hell of pain, and world of Charge.
And you as well to keep her that defend her,
Not palating the tafle 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 to breed out your Inheritors:
Both merits pois'd, each weighs no less nor more,
But he as he, with heavier for a Whore.

Par. You are too bitter to your Country-woman.
Dio. She's bitter to her Country: Hear me, Paris,
For every falfe drop in her baudy Veins


A Grecian's Life bath funk; for every Scruple
Of her contaminated Carrion weight,

A Trojan hath been flain. Since the could fpeak,
She hath not given 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 wel!;
We'll not commend what we intend to fell.
Here lyes our way.

Enter Troilus and Creffida.


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 kill thofe pretty Eyes.
And give as fufc attachment to thy Senfes,

As Infants empty of all thought.

Cre. Good Morrow then.

Troi. I prithee now to Bed.

Cre. Are you a weary of me?

Troi. O Creffida! but that the bufie Day
Wak'd by the Lark, has rous'd the Ribald Crows,
And dreaming Night will hide our Eyes no longer,
I would not from thee.

Cre. Night hath been too brief.

Trai. Befhrew the Witch! with venomous weights fhe ftays, As hideously as Hell; but flies the grafps of Love,

With Wings more momentary, fwifter than Thought:
You will catch cold, and curse me.

Cre. Prithee tarry


Men will never tarry

O foolish Creffida- -I might have ftill held off,

And then you would have tarried. Hark, there's one up. Pan. within.] What's all the Doors open here?

Troi. It is your Uncle.

Enter Pandarus.

Cre. A Peftilence on him; now will he be mocking;

I fhall have fuch a Life

Pan. How now, how now? how go Maiden-heads? Hear, you Maid; where's my Coufin Creffid?


Cre. Go hang your felf, you naughty mocking Uncle: You bring me to do and then you flout me too. Pan. To do what? to do what? let her fay, what: What have I brought you to do?

Cre. Come, come, befhrew your Heart; you'll ne'er be good; nor fuffer others.

Pan. Ha, ha! alas poor Wretch; a poor Chipechia, haft not flept to Night? Would he not (a naughty Man) let it Aleep; a Bug-bear take him. [One knocks. Would he were knock'd i'th' Head. Who's that at Door?---Good Uncle, go and fee.---My Lord, come you again into my Chamber:

Cre. Did I not tell you?

You fmile and mock me, as if I meant naughtily.

Troi. Ha, ha.

Cre. Come, you are deceiv'd, I think of no fuch thing. How earneftly they knock- -Pray you come in. [Knock. I would not for half Troy have you feen here. [Exeunt. Pan. Who's there? what's the matter? will you beat down the Door? How now? what's the matter?

Enter Æneas,

Ene. Good morrow Lord, good morrow.

Pan. Who's there, my Lord Æneas? By my troth, I knew you not; What News with you so early? Ane. Is not Prince Troilus here?

Pan. Here! what should he do here?

Ane. Come, he is here, my Lord, do not deny him: It doth import him much to fpeak with me.

Pan. Is he here, fay you? tis more than I know, I'll be fworn; for my own part, I came late: What should he do here?

Ane. Who---nay, then :----Come, come, you'll do him wrong, e'er y' are aware: You'll be fo true to him, to be falfe to him: Do not you know of him, but yet go fetch him hither, go.

Enter Troilus.

Troi. How now? what's the matter?

Ane. My Lord, I fcarce have leifure to falute

My matter is fo harfh: there is at hand,

Paris your Brother, and Deiphobus,
The Grecian Diomede, and our Anthenor
Deliver'd to us, and for him forthwith,

E'er the first Sacrifice, within this Hour,



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