Full of proteft, of oath, and big compare,
Want fimilies: Truth tired with Iteration,
As true as Steel, as Plantage to the Moon,
As Sun to Day, as Turtle to her Mate,
As Iron to Adamant, as Earth to th' Center:
Yet after all comparisons of truth,

(As Truth's Authentick Author to be cited)
As true as Triolus, fhall crown up the Verfe,
And fanctifie the Numbers.

Cre. Prophet may you be:

If I be falfe or fwerve a hair from truth,
When time is old and hath forgot it self,
When Water-drops have worn the Stones of Troy,
And blind Oblivion fwallow'd Cities up,
And mighty States caracterlefs are grated
To dufty nothing; yet let Memory,
From false to falfe, among falfe Maids in love,
Upbraid my Falfehood; when they 've faid as falfe,
As Air, as Water, as Wind, as fandy Earth;
As Fox to Lainb, as Wolf to Heifer's Calf;
Pard to the Hind, or Step-dame to her Son;
Yea, let them fay, to ftick the Heart of Falfehood,
As falfe as Creffid.

Pan. Go to, a Bargain made: Seal it, feal it, I'll be the Witness. Here I hold your Hand; here my Coufin's; if ever you prove falfe to one another, fince I have taken fuch Pains to bring you together, let all pitiful Goers-between, be call'd, to the World's end, after my Name: Call them all Panders; let all conftant Men be Troiluffes, all falfe Women Creffida's, and all Brokers between, Panders; fay, Amen. Troi. Amen.

Cre. Amen.

Pan. Amen.

Whereupon I will fhew you a Chamber, which Bed, be caufe it fhall not speak of your pretty encounters, prefs it to Death: Away.

And Cupid grant all Tongue-ty'd Maidens here,

Bed, Chamber, and Pander, to provide this geer.

[Exeunt.

SCENE

SCENE II. The Grecian Camp. Enter Agamemnon, Ulyffes, Diomedes, Neftor, Menelaus and Calchas.

you,

Cal. Now, Princes, for the Service I have done
Th' advantage of the time prompts me aloud,
To call for recompence: Appear it to your Mind,
That through the fight I bear in things to come,
I have abandon'd Troy, left my Poffeffion,
Incurr'd a Traitor's Name, expos'd my self,
From certain and poffeft Conveniencies,
To doubtful Fortunes, fequeftring from me all
That Time, Acquaintance, Custom, and Condition,
Made tame, and most familiar to my Nature:
And here to do you Service am become
As new into the World, ftrange, unacquainted.
I do befeech you, as in way of taste,

To give me now a little benefit,

Out of those many Registred in Promife,
Which you fay live to come in my behalf.

Aga. What wouldst thou of us, Trojan? Make demand. Cal. You have a Trojan Prifoner, call'd Anthenor, Yesterday took: Troy holds him very dear.

Oft have you (often have you, Thanks therefore)
Defir'd my Creffid in right great Exchange,
Whom Troy hath ftill deny'd: But this Anthenor,
I know, is fuch a wreft in their Affairs,
That their Negotiations all must flack,
Wanting this Manage; and they will almost
Give us a Prince o' th' Blood, a Son of Priam,
In change of him. Let him be fent, great Princes,
And he hall buy my Daughter: And her prefence
Shall quite ftrike off all Service I have dɔne,
In moft accepted pain.

Aga. Let Diomedes bear him,

And bring us Creffid hither: Calchas fhall have
What he requefts of us: Good Diomede,
Furnish you fairly for this enterchange;

With all, bring Word, if Hector will to Morrow
Be anfwer'd in his Challenge. Ajax is ready.

Y 2

Dio.

Dio. This fhall I undertake, and 'tis a burthen Which I am proud to bear.

Enter Achilles and Patroclus, in their Tent.
Vlyf Achilles ftands i'th' entrance of his Tent;
Please it our General to pass strangely by him,
As if he were forgot; and Princes all,
Lay negligent and loose regard upon him:
I will come laft, 'tis like he'll queftion me,

[Ex.it

Why fuch unplaufive Eyes are bent? why turn'd on him?
If fo, I have Decifion medicinable,

To use between our Strangeness and his Pride,
Which his own Will fhall have defire to drink;
It may do good: Pride hath no other Glafs
To fhew it felf, but Pride; for fupple Knees
Feed Arrogance, and are the proud Man's Fees.
Aga. We'll execute your Purpose, and put on
A form of Strangeness as we pafs along,
So do each Lord, and either greet him not,
Or elle difdainfully, which shall shake him more,
Then if not look'd on. I will lead the Way.

Achil. What, comes the General to fpeak with me? You know my Mind. I'll fight no more 'gainft Troy. Aga. What fays Achilles, would he ought with us? Neft. Would you, my Lord, ought with the General? Achil. No.

Neft. Nothing, my Lord.

Aga. The better.

Achil. Good Day, good Day,

Men. How do you? How do you?

• Achil. What, does the Cuckold fcorn me?

Aja. How now, Patroclus?

Achil. Good Morrow, Ajax.

Aja. Ha.

Achil. Good Morrow.

Aja. Ay, and good next Day too.

[Exeunt.

Achil. What mean thefe Fellows? Know they not Achilles? Pair. They pafs ftrangely: They were us'd to bend,

To fend their Smiles before them to Achilles:

To come as humbly as they us'd to creep to Holy Altars.

Achil. What, am I poor of late?

'Tis certain, Greatness once fall'n out with Fortune,

Muft

Muft fall out with Men too: What the declin'd is,
He shall as foon read in the Eyes of others,

As feel in his own Fall: For Men, like Butter-flies,
Shew not their mealy Wings, but to the Summer;
And not a Man, for being fimple Man,
Hath any Honour, but honour'd by thofe Honours
That are without him; as Place, Riches, Favour,
Prizes of Accident, as oft as Merit:

Which when they fall (as being flippery ftanders)
The Love that lean'd on them as flippery too,
Doth one pluck down another, and together
Dye in the Fall: But 'tis not fo with me,
Fortune and I are Friends, I do enjoy
At ample point all that I did poffefs,

Save thefe Mens Looks, who do methinks find out
Something in me not worth that rich Beholding,
As they have often given. Here is Vlyffes,

I'll interrupt his Reading.

How now Ulysses?

Vlyf. Now, great Thetis Son!
Achil. What, are you reading?
Vlyf. A ftrange Fellow here

Writes me, that Man, how dearly ever parted,
How much in having, or without, or in,
Cannot make boast to have that which he hath;
Nor feels not what he ows, but by Reflection,
As when his Virtues fhining upon others,
Heat them, and they retort that Heat again
To the firft Giver.

Achil. This is not ftrange, Vlyffes,

The Beauty that is born here in the Face,
The Bearer knows not, but commends it self,

Not going from it felf, but Eye to Eye oppos'd,

Salute each other, with each others Form.

For Speculation turns not to it felf,

'Till it hath travell'd, and is marry'd there Where it may fee it felf; this is not strange at all. Vlyf. I do not ftrain at the Pofition,

It is familiar; but at the Author's drift;
Who in his Circumftance, exprefly proves
That no Man is the Lord of any thing,

(Tчo' in and of him) there is much confifting,

Dio. This fhall I undertake, and 'tis a burthen
Which I am proud to bear.

Enter Achilles and Patroclus, in their Tent.
Vlyf. Achilles ftands i'th' entrance of his Tent;
Please it our General to pass strangely by him,
As if he were forgot; and Princes all,
Lay negligent and loose regard upon him:
I will come laft, 'tis like he'll queftion me,

[Ex.it

Why fuch unplaufive Eyes are bent? why turn'd on him?
If fo, I have Decifion medicinable,

To ufe between our Strangeness and his Pride,
Which his own Will fhall have defire to drink;
It may do good: Pride hath no other Glafs
To fhew it felf, but Pride; for fupple Knees
Feed Arrogance, and are the proud Man's Fees.
Aga. We'll execute your Purpose, and put on
A form of Strangeness as we pafs along,
So do each Lord, and either greet him not,
Or elfe difdainfully, which shall shake him more,
Then if not look'd on. I will lead the Way.

Achil. What, comes the General to fpeak with me? You know my Mind. I'll fight no more 'gainft Troy. Aga. What fays Achilles, would he ought with us? Neft. Would you, my Lord, ought with the General? Achil. No.

Neft. Nothing, my Lord.

Aga. The better.

Achil. Good Day, good Day,

Men. How do you? How do you?

• Achil. What, does the Cuckold scorn me?

Aja. How now, Patroclus?

Achil. Good Morrow, Ajax.

Aja. Ha.

Achil. Good Morrow.

Aja. Ay, and good next Day too.

[Exeunt.

Achil. What mean thefe Fellows? Know they not Achilles? Patr. They pafs ftrangely: They were us'd to bend,

To fend their Smiles before them to Achilles:

To come as humbly as they us'd to creep to Holy Altars. Achil. What, am I poor of late?

'Tis certain, Greatnefs once fall'n out with Fortune,

Muft