(Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous fin)

Makes me afraid.

Cre. O heav'ns, you love me not!

Troi. Die I a villain then:

In this I do not call your faith in question
So mainly as my merit: I can't fing,

Nor heel the high lavolt; nor fweeten talk;

Nor play at subtle games; fair virtues all,

To which the Grecians are moft prompt and pregnant.
But I can tell, that in each grace of these
There lurks a still and dumb-discoursive devil,
That tempts most cunningly: but be not tempted.
Cre. Do you think I will?

Troi. No.

But something may be done that we will not:
And fometimes we are devils to our felves,
When we will tempt the frailty of our powers,
Presuming on their changeful potency.
Eneas within.] Nay, good my lord.
Troi. Come kifs, and let us part.
Paris within.] Brother Troilus.
Troi. Good brother, come you hither,
And bring Æneas and the Grecian with you.
Cre. My lord, will you be true?

Troi. Who I? alas, it is my vice, my fault:
While others fish with craft for great opinion,
I, with great truth, catch meer fimplicity.
While fome with cunning gild their copper crowns,
With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare.
Fear not my truth; the moral of my wit
Is plain and true, there's all the reach of it.

SCENE

SCENE VII.

Enter Eneas, Paris, and Diomedes.

Welcome, Sir Diomede; here is the lady,
Whom for Antenor we deliver you.

At the port (lord) I'll give her to thy hand,
And by the way poffefs thee what she is.
Entreat her fair, and by my foul, fair Greek,
If e'er thou stand at mercy of my fword,
Name Crefid, and thy life fhall be as safe
As Priam is in Ilion.

Diom. Lady Crefid,

So please you, fave the thanks this prince expects:
The luftre in your eye, heav'n in your cheek,
Pleads your fair usage; and to Diomede
You shall be mistress, and command him wholly.
Troi. Grecian, thou doft not use me courteously,
To fhame the feal of my petition towards thee
By praifing her. I tell thee, lord of Greece,
She is as far high-foaring o'er thy praises,
As thou unworthy to be call'd her servant.
I charge thee use her well, even for my charge:
For by the dreadful Pluto, if thou dost not,
(Tho' the great bulk Achilles be thy guard)
I'll cut thy throat.

Diom. Oh be not mov'd, prince Troilus.
Let me be privileg'd by my place and meffage,
To be a speaker free. When I am hence,
I'll answer to my lift: and know, my lord,
I'll nothing do on charge; to her own worth
She fhall be priz'd: but that you say, be't so;
I'll speak it in my spirit and honour ➖➖➖➖ no.

6

Troi.

Troi. Come to the port ---- I'll tell thee, Diomede,
This brave shall oft make thee to hide thy head.
Lady, give me your hand ---- and as we walk,
To our own felves bend we our needful talk.
Par. Hark, Hector's trumpet!

Æne. How have we spent this morning?
The Prince must think me tardy and remifs,
That swore to ride before him in the field.

[Sound trumpet.

Par. 'Tis Troilus' fault. Come, come to field with him.
Diom. Let us make ready strait.

Ene. Yea, with a bridegroom's fresh alacrity
Let us address to tend on Hector's heels:
The glory of our Troy doth this day lye
On his fair worth, and fingle chivalry.

[Exeunt.

Enter Ajax armed, Agamemnon, Achilles, Patroclus,
Menelaus, Ulyffes, Neftor, Calchas, &c.

Aga. H Anticipating time. With starting courage,

ERE art thou in appointment fresh and fair,

Give with thy trumpet a loud note to Troy,
Thou dreadful Ajax, that th' appalled air
May pierce the head of the great combatant,
And hale him hither.

Ajax. Trampet, there's my purse;

Now crack thy lungs, and split thy brazen pipe:
Blow villain, 'till thy fphered bias cheek
Out-fwell the cholick of puft Aquilon:

Come

Dio.

Come stretch thy cheft, and let thy eyes spout blood:

Thou blow'st for Hector.

Ulys. No trumpet answers.

Achil. 'Tis but early day.

Enter Diomede and Creffida.

Aga. Is not yond' Diomede with Calchas' daughter?
Ulyf. 'Tis he, I ken the manner of his gate,
He rifes on his toe; that spirit of his

In aspiration lifts him from the earth.

Aga. Is this the lady Creffida?

Dio. Ev'n fhe.

Aga. Most dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet lady. *

Cre.

Dio. Lady, a word ---- I'll bring you to your father
Neft. A woman of quick sense.

[Diomedes leads out Creffida, then returns.

Ulys. Fie, fie upon her:

There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip:

Nay, her foot speaks, her wanton spirits look out

At every joint, and motive of her body :

< Oh these Encounterers! So glib of tongue,

They give a coasting welcome ere it comes;
And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts,

To every ticklish reader: fet them down

• For fluttish spoils of opportunity,

And daughters of the game.

Enter Hector, Paris, Troilus, Æneas, Helenus, and attendants.

All. The Trojans trumpet!

Aga. Yonder comes the troop.

Ene. Hail all the state of Greece! what fhall be done

To him that victory commands? do you purpose,

A victor shall be known? will you, the knights

Shall to the edge of all extremity

Pursue each other, or fhall be divided

By any voice, or order of the field?
Hector bad ask.

Cre. No, I'll be sworn.

Ulyf. It were no match, your nail against his horn: May I, fweet lady, beg a kifs of you?

Cre. You may.

Ulyf. I do defire it.

Cre. Why beg then.

Ulys. Why then, for Venus' fake give me a kifs:
When Helen is a maid again, and his-----

Cre. I am your debtor, claim it when 'tis due.
Ulyf. Never's my day, and then a kiss of you.
Dio. Lady, a word &c.

Aga.