Cre. And you this glove. When fball I fee you? Troi. I will corrupt the Grecian Centinels

To give thee nightly vifitation.

But yet be true.

Cre. Oh heav'ns! be true, again?

Troi. Hear, why I fpeak it, love:

The Grecian youths are full of fubtle qualities, They're loving, well compos'd, with gifts of nature Flowing, and fwelling o'er with arts, and exercise ; How novelties may move, and parts with perfon-Alas, a kind of godly jealoufy

(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 queftion
So mainly as my merit I cannot fing,
Nor heel the high Lavolt; nor fweeten, talk;
Nor play at fubtle 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-difcourfive Devil,
That tempts moft cunningly but be not tempted.
Cre. Do you think, I will?

Troi. No,

:

But fomething may be done, that we will not:
And fometimes we are devils to ourselves,
When we will tempt the frailty of our powers,
Prefuming 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 Eneas and the Grecian with you.
Cre. My lord, will You be true?

Troi. Who 1? alas, it is my Vice, my fault : While others fifh, with craft, for great opinion; 1, with great truth, catch mere fimplicity.

2

While fome with cunning gild their copper crowns,
With truth and plainnefs 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.

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 ftand at mercy

of my

fword ; Name Creffid, and thy life fhall be as fafe As Priam is in Ilion.

Dio. Lady Creffid,

So please you, fave the thanks this Prince expects :
The luftre in your eye, heav'n in your cheek,
Pleads you fair ufage; and to Diomede

You shall be miftrefs, and command him wholly.
Troi. Grecian, thou doft not use me courteously,
* To fhame the zeal 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 fervant.
I charge thee, ufe her well, even for my Charge:
For by the dreadful Pluto, if thou doft not,
(Tho' the great bulk Achilles be thy guard)
I'll cut thy throat.

Dio. 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 fo;

To fhame the Seal of my petition tow'rds thee,
By praifing her.

fenfe. Shakespear wrote,

To fhame the Seal of a Petition is Non-
-Tofhame the Zeal.-

I'll speak it in my spirit and honour-no.

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 selves bend we our needful talk.

Par. Hark, Hector's trumpet!

[Sound Trumpet.

Ene. How have we spent this morning? The Prince must think me tardy and remifs,

That fwore to ride before him in the field.

Par. 'Tis Troilus' fault. Come, come, to field with him.

Dio. Let me make ready strait.

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

[Exeunt.

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

Aga. H
HERE

ERE art thou in appointment fresh and
fair,

Anticipating time with starting courage.
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 thither.

Ajax. Trumpet, there's my purse ;

Now crack thy lungs, and fplit thy brazen pipe:
Blow, villain, till thy sphered bias cheek

Out-fwell the cholic of puft Aquilon :

Come, ftretch thy cheft, and let thy eyes fpout blood :

Thou blow'ft for Hector.

VOL. IX.

E

Ulyff.

Uly. No trumpet anfwers.

Achil. 'Tis but early day.

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

In afpiration lifts him from the earth.

Enter Diomede, with Creffida.

Aga. Is this the lady Creffida?

Dio. Ev'n fhe.

Aga. Moft dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet lady.

Neft. Our General doth falute you with a kiss. Uly. Yet is the kindness but particular ; 'Twere better, fhe were kifs'd in general.

Neft. And very courtly counfel: I'll begin.

So much for Neftor.

Achil. I'll take that winter from your lips, fair lady: Achilles bids you welcome.

Men. I had good argument for kiffing once.

Pat. But that's no argument for kifling now: For thus pop'd Paris in his hardiment,

And parted, thus, you and your argument.

Uly. O deadly gall, and theme of all o fcorns, For which we lofe our heads to gild his horns! Pat. The first was Menelaus' kifs-this mine

Patroclus kiffes you.

Men. O, this is trim.

Pat. Paris and I kifs evermore for him.

Men. I'll have my kifs, Sir: lady, by your leave,Cre. In kiffing do you render or receive?

Pat. Both take and give.

Cre. I'll make my match to live,

The kiss you take is better than you give;
Therefore no kifs.-

Men. I'll give you boot, I'll give you three for one.
Cre. You are an odd man, give even, or give none.
Men. An odd man, lady? every man is odd.

Cre.

Cre. No, Paris is not; for you know, 'tis true,
That you are odd, and he is even with you.
Men. You fillip me o' th' head.

Cre. No, I'll be fworn.

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

Cre. You may.
Uly. I do defire it.

Cre. Why, beg then.

Uly. 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.
Ulyff. Never's my day, and then a kiss of you.
Neft. A woman of quick fenfe!

Dio. Lady, a word-I'll bring you to your Father.. [Diomede leads out Creffida.

Uly. 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, thefe Encounterers! So glib of tongue,
They give a Coafting welcome ere it comes:
And wide unclafp the tables of their thoughts
To every ticklish reader: fet them down
For fluttish Spoils of Opportunity,

And daughters of the Game.

[Trumpet within.

Enter Hector, Paris, Troilus, Eneas, Helenus, and

Attendants.

All. The Trojans' trumpet!

Aga. Yonder comes the troop.

the Knights

Ene. Hail, all the State of Greece! what fhall be done To him that Victory commands? Or do you purpose, A Victor fhall be known? will you, Shall to the edge of all extremity Purfue each other, or shall be divided By any voice, or order of the field? Hector bade afk.

Aga.