What merit's in that reafon, which denies
The yielding of her up?

Troi. Fie, fie, my Brother:

Weigh you the worth and honour of a King
(So great is our dread Father) in a Scale

Of common Ounces? Will you with Counters fum
The vaft proportion of his Infinite?
And buckle in a wast, most fathomlefs,
With Spans and Inches fo diminutive,

As Fears and Reafons? Fie for godly thame.

Hel. No marvel, tho' you bite fo fharp at Reasons,
You are empty of them. Should not our Father
Bear the great fway of his Affairs with Reasons,
Because your Speech hath none that tells him fo?

Trei. You are for Dreams and Slumbers, Brother Prieft,
You fur your Gloves with Reafon: Here are your Reasons,
You know an Enemy intends you harm:
You know, a Sword imploy'd is perillous,
And Reafon flies the object of all harm:
Who marvels then, when Helenus beholds
A Grecian and his Sword, if he do fet
The very wings of Reafon to his Heels:

Or like a Star difor b'd. Nay, if we talk of Reafon, And flie like chidden Mercury from Jove,

Let's fhut our Gates and fleep: Manhood and Honour Should have hard Hearts, would they but fat their Thoughts With this cramm'd Reafon: Reafon and Refpect

Make Lovers pale, and luftyhood deject.

Hect. Brother, the is not worth

What the doth coft the holding.

Troil. What's ought, but as 'tis valu'd?

Hect. But value dwells not in particular Will,

It holds his Eftimate and Dignity,

As well wherein 'tis precious of it self,
As in the prizer: 'Tis made Idolatry,
To make the Service greater than the God;
And the will dotes, that is inclinable
To what infectiously it felf affects,
Without fome Image of th' affected Merit.

my

Troi. I take to day a Wife, and Election
Is led on in the conduct of my Will;
My Will enkindled in mine Eyes and Ears,
Two traded Pilots 'twixt the dangerous Shores
Of Will and Judgment. How may I avoid
(Although my Will diftaft what is elected)
The Wife I chofe? there can be no evafion
To blench from this, and to ftand firm by Honour.
We turn not back the Silks upon the Merchant,
When we have fpoil'd them; nor the 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 Grecks;
Your Breath of full confent bellied his Sails,
The Seas and Winds (old Wranglers) took a Truce,
And did him Service; 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 ftale the Morning.
Why keep we her? the Grecians keep our Aunt:
Is the worth keeping? why, he is a Pearl,
Whofe Price hath launch'd above a thoufand Ships,
And turn'd Crown'd Kings to Merchants.
If you'll avouch 'twas Wildom, Paris went,
(As you must needs, for you all cry'd, Ge, go:)
If you'll confefs he brought home noble Prize,
(As you must needs, for you all clap'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,
Begger the Eftimation, which you priz'd
Richer than Sea and Land? O Theft moft bafe!
That we have ftoln what we do fear to keep.
But Thieves, unworthy of a thing fo ftole,
That in their Country did them that Difgrace,
We fear to warrant in our native Place.

Enter Caffandra with her Hair about her Ears.
Caf. Cry, Trojans, cry.

Pri. What noife? what fhriek is this?

Troi. 'Tis our mad Sifter, I do know her Voice.
Caf. Cry, Trojans.

Hect. It is Caffandra.

Caf. Cry, Trojans, cry; lend me ten thousand Eyes, And I will fill them with prophetick Tears.

Helt. Peace, Sifter, 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, practise your Eyes with Tears,
Troy muft not be, nor goodly Ilion ftand,
Our Fire-brand Brother Paris burns us all.
Cry, Trojans, cry, a Helen and a Wo;
Cry, cry, Troy burns, or else let Helen go.

[Exit.

Helt. Now, youthful Troilus, do not the high Strains

Of Divination in our Sifter work

Some touches of Remorfe? Or is your Blood

So madly hot, that no difcourfe of Reason,
Nor fear of bad Succefs in a bad Caufe,
Can qualifie the fame ?

Troi. Why, Brother Hector,

We may not think the juftnefs 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 diftaste 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 Sons,
And Jove forbid, there fhould be done amongst us
Such things as might offend the weakest Spleen,
To fight for, and maintain.

Par. Elfe might the World convince of Levity,
As well my Undertakings, as your Counsels :
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 thefe my fingle Arms?
What Propugnation is in one Man's Valour
To ftand the Pufh and Enmity of those
This Quarrel would excite? Yet, I proteft,

Were

Were I alone to pass the Difficulties,

And had as ample Power, as I have Will,
Paris fhould ne'er retract what he hath done,
Nor faint in the purfuit.

Pri. Paris, you speak

Like one befotted on your fweet Delights;
You have the Hony ftill, but thefe the Gall,
So to be Valiant, is no praife at all.

Par. Sir, I propofe not meerly to my felf,
The Pleasures fuch a Beauty brings with it:
But I would have the Soil of her fair Rape
Wip'd off in honourable keeping her.

What Treason were it to the ranfack'd Queen,
Difgrace to your great Worths, and Shame to me,
Now to deliver her Poffeffion up,

i

On terms of bafe Compulfion? Can it be,
That fo degenerate a ftrain as this,

Should once fet foot within your generous Bofoms?
There's not the meaneft Spirit on our Party,

Without a Heart to dare, or

Sword to draw,
When Helen is defended: Nor none fo Noble,
Whofe Life were ill beftow'd, or Death unfam'd,
Where Helen is the Subject. Then, I fay,
Well may we fight for her, whom we know well,
The World's large Spaces cannot parallel.

-Hec. Paris and Troilus, you have both faid well:
And on the Caufe and Queftion, now in hand,
Have glofs'd, but fuperficially; not much
Unlike young Men, whom graver Sages think
Unfit to hear moral Philofophy.

The Reasons you alledge, do more conduce
To the hot Paffion of diftemper'd Blood,

Than to make up a free Determination

'Twixt Right and Wrong: For Pleafure, and Revenge, Have Ears more deaf than Adders, to the voice

Of any true Decifion. Nature craves

All Dues be rendred 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,
VOL. IV.

X

And

And that great Minds, of partial Indulgence
Ttheir benummed Wills, refift the fame,
There is a Law in each well-ordered Nation,
To curb thofe raging 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 Nations, speak 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 spritely Brethren, I propend to you

In refolution to keep Helen ftill;

For 'tis a Caufe that hath no mean dependance,

Upon our joint and feveral Dignities.

Trei. Why there, you touch'd the Life of our Defign:

Were it not Glory that we more affected,

Than the performance of our heaving Spleens,

I would not with a drop of Trojan Blood

Spent more in her Defence. But, worthy Hector,
She is a Theam of Honour and Renown,
A Spur to valiant and magnanimous Deeds,
Whose present Courage may beat down our Foes,
And Fame, in time to come, canonize us.
For I prefume, 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.

Helt. I am yours,

You valiant Off-fpring of great Priamus;
I have a roifting Challenge fent amongst
The dull and factious Nobles of the Greeks,
Will ftrike Amazement to their drowfie Spirits.
I was advertis'd, their great General flept,
Whilft Emulation in the Army crept :
This I prefume will wake him.

[Exeunt

SCENE