toad, a lizard, an owl, a puttock, or a herring without a roe, I would not care: but to be Menelaus, I would confpire against destiny. Ask me not what I would be, if I were not Therfites; for I care not to be the lowse of a lazar, fo I were not Menelaus. Hey-day, spirits and fires! Enter Hector, Ajax, Agamemnon, Ulyffes, Neftor, and Aga. We go wrong, we go wrong. Ajax. No, yonder 'tis, there where we see the light. Ajax. No, not a whit. Enter Achilles. Ulys. Here comes himself to guide you. Achil. Welcome brave Hector, welcome princes all. Hect. Thanks, and good-night to the Greek's general. Hect. Good-night, fweet lord Menelaus. Ther. Sweet draught--- sweet quoth a --- fweet fink, fweet fewer. Achil. Good-night, and welcome, both at once, to those that go or tarry. Aga. Good-night. Achil. Old Neftor tarries, you too Diomede Keep Hector company an hour or two. Dio. I cannot, lord, I have important business, The tide whereof is now; good-night, great Hector. Hect. Give me your hand. N 2 Ulyf 47385A Ulys. Follow his torch, he goes to Calchas' tent: Achil. Come, come, enter my tent. [To Troilus. [Exeunt Ther. That fame Diomede's a falfe-hearted rogue, a most unjust knave: I will no more truft him when he leers than I will a ferpent when he hiffes: he will spend his mouth and promife, like Brabler the hound; but when he performs, aftronomers foretel it, that it is prodigious, there will come fome change: the fun borrows of the moon, when Diomede keeps his word. I will rather leave to fee Hector, than not to dog him: they say, he keeps a Trojan drab, and uses the traitor Calchas his tent. I'll after Nothing but lechery; all incontinent varlets. W1 Cal. Who calls? [Exeunt. Dio. Diomede; Calchas, I think; where's your daughter? Enter Troilus and Ulyffes, after them Therfites. Enter Creffid. Troi. Crefid come forth to him? Dio. How now, my charge? Cre. Now my fweet guardian; hark, a word with you. Troi. Yea, fo familiar? 6 Whispers. Ulys. Uly. She will fing to any man at firft fight. b Ther. And any man may fing to her, if he can take her cliff. She's noted. Dio. Will you remember? Cre. Remember? yes. Dio. Nay, but do then; and let your mind be coupled with your words. Troi. What fhould she remember? Ulys. Lift. Cre. Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly. Ther. Roguery Dio. Nay then. Cre. I'll tell you what. Dio. Fo, fo, come tell a pin, you are a forfworn- Dio. What did you fwear you would bestow on me? Bid me do any thing but that, sweet Greek. Dio. Good-night. Troi. Hold, patience -- Ulys. How now, Trojan? Cre. Diomede. Dio. No, no, good-night: I'll be your fool no more. Cre. Hark, one word in your ear. Troi. O plague and madness! Ulys. You are mov'd, prince; let us depart, I pray you, To wrathful terms: this place is dangerous; b find her, if he can take her life. Ulyf Ulys. Good my lord go off: You fly to great distraction: come, my lord. Troi. I pr'ythee stay. Ulys. You have not patience; come. Troi. I pray you stay; by hell, and by hell's torments, will not speak a word: Dio. And fo good-night. Cre. Nay, but you part in anger. Troi. Doth that grieve thee? O wither'd truth! Troi. By Jove, I will be patient. Cre. Guardian 1611 why Greek- Dio. Fo, fo, adieu, you palter. Cre. In faith, I do not: come hither once again. Ulys. You fhake, my lord, at fomething; will you go? You will break out. Troi. She ftroaks his cheek. Ulyf. Come, come. Troi. Nay, ftay; by Jove, I will not speak a word. There is between my will and all offences A guard of patience: ftay a little while. Ther. How the devil luxury with his fat rump and potato finger tickles these together! fry, lechery, fry. Dio. But will you then? Cre. In faith I will come; never truft me elfe. Ulys. You have fworn patience. Troi. Fear me not, fweet lord, I will not be my self, nor have cognition [Exit. SCENE Troi. I will be patient, outwardly I will. Cre. You look upon that fleeve; behold it well: He lov'd me: O false wench: Give't me again. Dio. Whole was't? Cre. It is no matter, now I have't again. Ther. Now the fharpens: well faid whetstone. Cre. What, this? Cre. O all you gods---O pretty, pretty pledge; Of thee and me, and fighs, and takes my glove, Dio. Nay, do not snatch it from me. 1 Cre. He that takes that, must take my heart withal. Troi. I did fwear patience. Cre. You shall not have it, Diomede: 'faith you shall not, I'll give you something else. Dio. I will have this: whofe was it? Cre. 'Tis no matter. Dio. Come tell me whofe it was? Cre. |