That doth invert that teft of Eyes and Ears
As if those Organs had deceptious Functions,
Created only to calumniate.

Was Creffid here?

Ulys. I cannot conjure, Trojan.

Troi. She was not fure.

Ulf. Moft fure fhe was.

Trei. Why, my Negation hath no tafte of Madnefs. Vlyf. Nor mine, my Lord: Creffid was here but now. Troi. Let it not be believ'd for Woman-hood: Think we had Mothers; do not give advantage To ftubborn Criticks, apt without a Theme For depravation, to fquare the general Sex By Creffid's Rule. Rather think this not Creffid.

Vlyf. What hath fhe done, Prince, that can foil our Mo thers?

Troi. Nothing at all, unless that this were the.
Ther. Will he fwagger himself out on's own Eyes?
Troi. This he? no, this is Diomede's Creffid:

If Beauty have a Soul, this is not the

If Souls, guide Vows, if Vows are Sanctimony,
If Sanctimony be the Gods delight,

If there be Rule in Unity it felf,

This is not fhe. O madnefs of Difcourfe!
That Caufe fets up, with and against thy felf,
By foul Authority; where Reafon can revolt
Without Perdition, and Lofs affume all Reafon,
Without Revolt. This is, and is not Creffid.
Within my Soul, there doth commence a fight
Of this ftrange Nature, that a thing infeparate
Divides more wider than the Sky and Earth,
And yet the fpacious breadth of this Divifion
Admits no Orifice for a point, as subtle
As Ariachne's broken woof, to enter;
Inftance, O instance ! ftrong as Plato's Gates ;
Greffid is mine, tied with the Bonds of Heav'n;
Inftance, inftance! ftrong as Heav'n it felf;
The Bonds of Heav'n are flip'd, dissolv'd and loos'd;
And with another Knot five finger'd tied :
The fractions of her faith, orts of her Love,
A a *

The

The fragments, fcraps, the bits, and greafie Reliques,
Of her o'er-eaten Faith, are bound to Diomede.
Ulys. 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

Ifl.m'd with Venus. -never did young Man fancy
With fo Eternal, and so fix'd a Soul-

Hak, Greek, as much as I do Greffida love,
So much by weight hate I her Diomede:
That Sleeve is mine, that he'll bear in his Helm:
Were it a Cask compos'd by Vulcan's Skill,
My Sword should bite it: Not the dreadful Spout,
Which Ship-men do the Hurricano call,
Conftring'd in Mafs by the Almighty Finger
Shall dizzy with more Clamour Neptune's Ear
In his defcent, than hall my prompted Swed
Falling on Diomede.

Ther. He'll tickle it for his Concupy.

Troi. O Creffid! O falfe Creffid! falfe, falle, falfe! Let all Untruths ftand by thy ftained Name,

And they'll feem glorious.

Vlyf. O contain your felf:

Your Paffion draws Ears hither.

Enter Eneas.

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

Ajax, your Guard, ftays to conduct you home.

Troi. Have with you, Prince; my courteous Lord, adieu.

Farewel; revolted fair: and, Diomede,

Stand faft, and wear a Caftle on thy Head.

Ulys. I'll bring you to the Gates.

7roi. Accept diftracted Thanks.

[Exeunt Troilus, neas, and Ulyffes..

Ther. Would I could meet that Rogue Diomede, I would croak like a Raven: I would bode, I would bode: Patroclus will give me any thing for the intelligence of this

Whores

Whore The Parrot will not do more for an Almond, than he for a commodious Drab: Letchery, Letchery, ftill Wars and Letchery, nothing elfe holds fashion. A burning Devil take them. [Exit.

SCENE III. Troy.

Enter Hector and Andromache.

And. When was my Lord fo much ungently temper'd, To ftop his Ears against admonishment?

Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to day.

Hect. You train me to offend you; get you gone. By the everlasting Gods, I'll go.

Andr. My Dreams will fure prove cminous to the day. Hect, No more, I fay.

Enter Caffandra.

Caf. Where is my Brother Hector?

Andr. Here Sifter, arm'd, and bloody in intent:
Confort with me in loud and dear Petition;

Pursue we him on Knees; for I have dreamt
Of bloody turbulence; and this whole night

Hath nothing been but fhapes and forms of Slaughter.
Caf. O, 'tis true.

Helt. Ho! bid my Trumpet found.

Caf. No Notes of fally, for the Heav'ns, fweet Brother. Hect. Be gone, I fay: The Gods have heard me fwear. Caf. The Gods are deaf to hot and peevish Vows; They are polluted Offerings, more abhorr'd

Than fpotted Livers in the Sacrifice.

Andr. O, be perfwaded, do not count it holy,

To hurt by being juft; it were 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.

Hect. Hold you still, I fay;

Mine Honour keeps the weather of my Fate;

Life every Man holds dear, but the dear Man
Holds Honour far more precious-dear than Life.

Enter Troilus.

How, now, young man; mean'ft thou to fight to day?
Andr. Caffandra, call my Father to perfwade.

[Exit Caffandra: Hect. No Faith, young Troilus; doff thy Harnefs, Youth; I am to day i'th' vein of Chivalry:

Let grow thy Sinews 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 Sword,,

You bid them rife, and live,

Hect. O, 'tis fair play.

Troi. Fools Play, by Heav'n, Hector.
Helt. How now? how now?

Troi. For th' love of all the Gods,

Let's leave the Hermit Pity with our Mothers 3
And when we have our Armours buckeld on,
The venom'd Vengeance ride upon our Swords,
Spur them to ruful work, rein them from ruth.
Het. Fie, Savage, fie.

Troi. Hector, then 'tis Wars.

Helt. Troilus, I would not have you fight to day.
Troi. Who fhould with-hold me?

Not Fate, Obedience, nor the Hand of Mars,
Beckning with fiery Truncheon my retire:

Not Priamus and Hecuba on Knees,

Their Eyes o'er-galled with recourfe of Tears;
Nor you, my Brother, with your true Sword drawn,
Oppos'd to hinder me, fhould ftop my way;
But by my Ruin,

Enter Priam and Caffandra.

Caf. Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him faft
He is thy Crutch; now if thou lofe thy ftay,
Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee;
Fall all altogether.

Priam. Come, Hector, come, go back:

Thy Wife hath Dreamt; thy Mother hath had Vifions;
Caffandra doth forefee; and I my felf,

Am like a Prophet, fuddenly enrapt,
To tell thee that this day is Ominous:
Therefore come back.

Helt. Aneas is a-field,

And I do ftand engag'd to many Greeks,
Even in the Faith of Valour, to appear
This Morning to them.

Priam. Ay, but thou shalt not go.
Hect. I must not break my Faith:

You know me Dutiful, therefore, dear Sir,
Let me not fhame refpect; but give me leave
To take that courfe by your Confent and Voice,
Which you do here forbid me, Royal Priam.
Caf. Ô, Priam, yield not to him.
Andr. Do not, dear Father.

Hect. Andromache, I am offended with you:
Upon the love you bear me; get you in.

[Exit Andromache.

Troi. This foolish, dreaming, fuperftitious Girl, Makes all thefe bodements.

Caf. O farewel, dear Hector:

Look how thou dieft; look how thy Eyes turn pale; i
Look how thy Wounds do bleed at many vents;
Hark how Troy roars; how Hecuba cries out;
How poor Andromache thrills her Dolour forth;
Behold Distraction, Frenzy and Amazement,
Like witlefs Anticks, one another meet,
And all cry, Hector, Hector's dead: O Hector!
Troi. Away.

Caf. Farewel: Yet, foft: Hector, I take my leave;
Thou do'ft thy felf, and all our Troy deceive.

[Exit.