THE History of Troilus and Cresseida. As it was acted by the King's majesties servants at the Globe.  
Written by William Shakespeare.  
LONDON Imprinted by G. Elder for R. Bonian and H. Waller, and are to be sold at the spread Eagle in Paul's Churchyard, over against the great North door. 1609.   

The history of Troilus and Cresseida.  Enter Pandarus and Troilus. Troy. 
CAll here my varlet, I'll unarm again,  
Why should I war without the walls of Troy:  
That find such cruel battle here within,  
Each Trojan that is master of his heart,  
Let him to field Troilus alas hath none.  Pan. 
Will this gear near be mended?  Troy. 
The Greeks are strong and skilful to their strength  
Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant,  
But I am weaker than a woman's tear;  
Tamer than sleep; fonder than ignorance,  
Less valiant than the Virgin in the night,  
And skilless as unpractised infancy:  Pan. 
Well, I have told you enough of this; for my part i'll not meddle nor make no farther; he that will have a cake out of the wheat must tarry the grinding.  Tro. 
Have I not tarried?  Pan. 
I the grinding; but you must tarry the bolting.  Troy. 
Have I not tarried?  Pa●de. 
I the bolting; but you must tarry the leavening.  Troy. 
Still have I tarried.  Pan. 
ay, to the leavening, but hears yet in the word hereafter, the kneading, the making of the cake, the heating the oven, and the baking, nay you must stay the cooling too, or yea may chance burn your lips.  Troy. 
Patience herself, what Goddess ere she be,  
Doth lesser blench at sufferance than I do:  
At Priam's royal table do I sit  
And when fair Cressida comes into my thoughts,  
So traitor than she comes when she is thence.  Pand. 
Well she looked yesternight fairer than ever I saw her look, or any woman else.  Troy. 
I was about to tell thee when my heart,  
As ●edged with a sigh would rive in twain,  
Lest Hector or my father should perceive me:  
I have (as when the Sun doth light a scorn)  
Buried this sigh in wrinkle of a smile,  
But sorrow that is couched in seeming gladness,  
Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness.  Pan: 
And her hair were not somewhat darke● then Helen's, well go to, there were no more comparison between the women ● but for my part she is my kinswoman, I would not as they term it praise her, but I would somebody had heard her talk yesterday as I did, I will not dispraise your sister Cassandra's wit, but—  Troy. 
Oh Pandarus I tell thee Pandarus,  
When I do tell thee there may hopes lie drowned  
Reply not in how many sadomes deep,  
They lie indrench'd● I tell thee I am mad:  
In Cressida's love? thou answer'st she is fair,  
Pourest in the open ulcer of my heart:  
Her eyes, her hair her cheek, her gate, her voice,  
Handlest in thy discourse: O that her hand  
In whose comparison all whites are ink  
Writing their own reproach; to whose soft seizure,  
The cignets down is harsh, and spirit of sense:  
Hard as the palm of ploughman; this thou tellest me,  
As true thou tellst me, when I say I love her,  
But saying thus in steed of oil and balm,  
Thou layst in every gash that love hath given me  
The knife that made it.  Pan: 
I speak no morethen truth.  Troy. 
Thou dost not speak so much.  Pan: 
Faith I'll not meddle in it, let her be as she is, if she be fai●e 'tis the better for her, and she be not, she has the me●ds in her own hands.  Tro●. 
Good Pandarus. how now Pandarus  Pan: 
I have had my labour for my travel, ill thought on of her, and ill thought of you, go● between and between, but small thanks for my labour.  Troy. 
What are thou angry Pandarus? what with me?  Pan. 
Because sh●e's kin to me therefore she's not so fair as Hellen, and she were kin to me, she would be as fair a Friday as Helen, is on Sunday, but what I? I care not and she were a black eamore, 'tis all one to me.  Troy. 
Say I she is not fair?  Pan. 
I do not care whether you do or no, she's a fool to stay behind her father let her to the greeks, and so I'll tell her the next time I see her for my part I'll meddle nor make no more ith'matter.  Troy. 
Pandarus.  Pan. 
Not I  Troy. 
Sweet Pandraus.  Pan. 
Pray you speak no more to me I will leave all as I found it and there an end.  Exit. Sound alarum. Troy. 
Peace you ungracious clamours, peace rude sounds,  
Fools on both sides, Hellen must needs be fair,  
When with your blood you daily paint her thus,  
I cannot fight upon this argument:  
It is too starved a subject for my sword,  
But Pandarus: O gods▪ how do you plague me  
I cannot come to Cressida but by Pander,  
And he's as tetchy to be wood to woe,  
As she is stubborn, chaste, against all suit.  
Tell me Apollo for thy Daphne's love  
What Cressida is, what Pander, and what we:  
Her bed is India there she lies, a pearl,  
Between our Ilium, and where she reides  
Let it be called the wild and wandering stood:  
Our ●el●e the Merchant, and this sailing Pander,  
Our doubtful hope, our convoy and our bark.  Alarm Enter Aeneas. Aene. 
How now prince Troilus, wherefore not a field,  Tro●. 
Because not there; this woman's answer sorts,  
For woman 〈◊〉 it is to be from thence.  
What news Aeneas from the field to day?  Aene. 
That Paris● returned home and hurt.  Troy. 
By whom Aeneas?  Aene. 
Troilus by Menelaus.  Troy. 
Let Paris bleed 'tis but a scar to scorn,  
Paris gored with Menelaus' horn.  Alarm. Aene. 
Hark what good sport is out of town to day.  Troy. 
Better at home, if would I might were may:  
But to the sport abroad are you bound thither?  Aene. 
In all swift haste.  Troy. 
Come go we then together.  Exeunt. Enter Cressida and 〈◊〉 man. Cres. 
Who were those went by?  man.. 
Queen Hecuba, and Hellen.  Cres. 
And whether go they?  man.. 
Up to the Eastern tower,  
Whose height commands as subject all the vail,  
To see the battle: Hector whose patience,  
Is as a virtue fixed, to day was moved:  
He chid Andromache and struck his armourer,  
And like as there were husbandry in war  
Before the Sun rose, he was harnessed light,  
And to the field goes he; where every flower  
Did as a Prophet weep what it foresaw,  
In Hector's wrath.  Cres. 
What was his cause of anger.  man.. 
The noise goes this, there is among the greeks,  
A Lord of Trojan blood, Nephew to Hector.  
They call him. Ajax.  Cres. 
Good; and what of him,  man.. 
They say he is a very man pierce and stands alone.  Cres. 
So do all men unless the are drunk, sick, or have no legs.  man.. 
This man Lady, hath robbed many beasts of their particular additions, he is as valiant as the Lion, churlish as the Bear, slow as the Elephant: a man into whom nature hath so crowded humours, that his valour is crushed into folly, his folly sauced with discretion: there is no man hath a virtue, that he hath not a glimpse of, nor any man an attaint, but he carries some stain of it. He is melancholy without cause and merry against the hair, he hath the joints of every thing, but every thing so out of joint, that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands, & no use: or purblind Argus, all eyes, and no sight.  Cres. 
But how should this man that makes me smile, make Hector angry.  man.. 
They say he yesterday coped Hector in the battle and stroke him down, the disdain and shame whereof hath ever since kept Hector fasting and waking.  Cres. 
Who comes here.  man.. 
Madam your uncle Pandarus.  Cres. 
Hector a gallant man.  Man 
As may be in the world Lady.  Pand. 
What's that? what's that?  Cres. 
Good morrow uncle Pandarus.  Pan. 
Good morrow cozen Cressida: what do you talk of? good morrow Alexander: how do you cousins when were you at Illum?  Cres. 
This morning uncle.  Pan. 
What were you talking of when I came? was Hector armed and gone ere yea came to Ilium, Helen was not up was she?  Cres. 
Hector was gone but Helen was not up?  Pan. 
E'en so, Hector was stirring early.  Cres. 
That were we talking of, and of his anger.  Pan: 
Was he angry?  Cres. 
So he says here.  Pan: 
True he was so; I know the cause to, he'll lay about him to day I can tell them that, & there's Troilus will not come far behind him, let them take he●de of Troilus; I can tell them that too.  Cres. 
What is he angry too?  Pan: 
Who Troilus? Troilus is the better man of the two:  Cres: 
Oh jupiter there's no comparison.  Pan: 
What not between Troilus and Hector? do you know a man if you see him?  Cres: 
ay, if I ever saw him before and knew him:  Pan: 
Well I say Troilus is Troilus:  Cres. 
Then you say as I say, for I am sure he is not Hector,  Pan. 
No not Hector is not Troilus in some degrees.  Cres. 
'tis just, to each of them he is himself.  Pan. 
Himself, alas poor Troilus I would he were.  Cres. 
So he is.  Pan. 
Condition I had gone barefoot to India.  Cres. 
He is not Hector.  Pan. 
Himself? no? he's not himself, would a were himself, well the Gods are above, time must friend or endwell Troilus well, I would my heart were in her body; no, Hector is not a better man than Troilus.  Cres. 
Excuse me.  Pand. 
He is elder.  Cres. 
Pardon me, pardon me.  Pand. 
Th'other's not come to't, you shall tell me another tale when th'other's come to't, Hector shall not have his will this year.  Cres. 
He shall not need it if he have his own.  Pand. 
Not his qualities.  Cres. 
No matter.  Pand. 
Nor his beauty.  Cres. 
'twould not become him, his own's better.  Pan: 
You have no judgement niece; Helen herself swore th'other day that Troilus for a brown favour (for so 'tis I must confess) not brown neither.  Cres. 
No, but brown.  Pand. 
Faith to say truth, brown and not brown.  Cres. 
To say the truth, true and not true.  Pand. 
She praised his complexion above Paris.  Cres. 
Why Paris hath colour enough.  Pand. 
So he has.  Cres. 
Then troilus should have too much, if she praised him above, his complexion is higher than his, he having colour enough, and the other higher, is too flaming a praise for a good complexion, I had as lief Helen's golden tongue had commended Troilus for a copper nose.  Pand. 
I swear to you I think Helen loves him better than Paris.  Cres. 
Then she's a merry greek indeed.  Pand. 
Nay I am sure she does, she came to him th'other day into the compassed window, and you know he has not past three or four hairs on his chin.  Cres. 
Indeed a Tapster's Arith●●etique may soon bring his particulars therein to a total.  Pand. 
Why he is very young, and yet will he within three pound list as much as his brothers Hector.  Cres. 
Is he so young a man, and so old a lifter.  Pand. 
But to prove to you that Helen loves him, she came and puts me her white hand to his cloven chin.  Cres. 
〈◊〉 have mercy, how came it cloven?  Pan. 
Why, you know 'tis dimpled, I think his smile becomes him better than any man in all Ph●igia.  Cres. 
Oh he smiles valianty.  Pan. 
Dooes he not?  Cres. 
Oh yes, and 'twere a cloud in Autumn.  Pan. 
Why go to then, but to prove to you that Helen loves Troilus.  Cres. 
Troilus will stand to thee proof if you'll prove it so.  Pan. 
Troilus, why he esteems her no more than I esteem and addle egg:  Cres. 
If you love and addle egg as well as you love and idle head you would eat chickens i'th' shell.  Pan. 
I cannot choose but laugh to think how she ticled his chin, indeed she has a mar●el's white hand I must needs confess.  Cres. 
Without the rack.  Pan. 
And she takes upon her to spy a white hear on his chin.  Cres. 
Alas poor chin many a wart is richer.  Pan. 
But there was such laughing, Queen Hecuba laughed that her eyes ran over.  Cres. 
With millstones.  Pan. 
And Cassandra laughed.  Cres. 
But there was a more temperate fire under the por of her eyes: did her eyes run over to?  Pan. 
And Hector laughed.  Cres. 
At what was all this laughing.  Pan. 
Marry at the white hear that Helen spied on Troilus chin.  Cres. 
And 't'had been a green hear I should have laughed too.  Pan. 
They laughed not so much at the hear as at his pretty answer.  Cres. 
What was his answer?  Pan. 
Quoth she here's but two and fifty heirs on your chin; and one of them is white.  Cres. 
This is her question.  Pan. 
That's true, make no question of that, two and fifty heirs quoth he, and one white, that white heir is my father, and all the rest are his sons. jupiter quoth she, which of these heirs is Paris my husband? the ●orked one quoth he, plucked out and gave it him: but there was such laughing, and Hellen so blushed, and Paris so chafed, and all the rest so laughed that it past.  Cres. 
So let it now for it has been a great while going by.  Pan. 
Well cousin I ●ould you a thing yesterday, think on't.  Cres. 
So I do.  Pan. 
I'll be sworn 'tis true, he will weep you an'twere a man borne in April  Sound a retreat. Cres. 
And I'll spring up in his tears an'twere a nettle against May.  Pan. 
Hark they are coming from the field, shall we stand up here and see them as they pass toward Ilium, good Niece do, sweet Niece Cresseida.  Cres. 
At your pleasure.  Pan. 
here, here, here's an excellent place, here we may see most bravely, iletell you them all by their names, as they posse by, but mark Troilus above the rest.  Enter Aeneas. Cres. 
Speak not so loud.  Pan. 
That's Aeneas, is not that a brave man, he's one of the flowers of Troy I can tell you, but mark Troilus, you shall see anon.  Cres. 
Who's that?  Enter Antenor. Pan. 
That's Antenor, he has a shroud wit I can tell you, and he's man good enough, he's one o'th' soundest judgements in Troy whosoever, and a proper man of person, when comes Troilus, i'll show you Troilus anon, if he see me, you shall see him nod at me.  Cres. 
Will he give you the nod:  Pan. 
You shall see:  Cres. 
If he do the rich shall have more.  Enter Hector. Pan. 
That's Hector, that, that, look you ●hat, there's a fellow! go thy way Hector, there's a brave man Niece, O brave Hector, look how he looks, there's a countenance, ist not a brave man?  Cres. 
O a brave man.  Pan: 
Is a not? it does a man heart good, look you what hacks are on his helmet, look you yonder, do you see, look you there, there's no jesting, there's laying on, take't off, who will as they say, there be hacks.  Cres. 
Be those with swords.  Enter Paris. Pan: 
Swords, anything he cares not, and the devil come to him, it's all one, by God's lid it does one's heart good. Yonder comes Paris, yonder comes Paris, look ye yonder Niece, ist not a gallant man to, ist not, why this is brave now, who said he came hurt home to day. he's not hurt, why this will do Helen's heart good now ha? would I could see Troilus now, you shall see Troilus anon.  Cres. 
Whos's that?  Enter Helenus: Pan. 
That's Helenus, I marvel where Troilus is, that's Helenus, I think he went not forth to day, that's Helenus.  Cres: 
Can Helenus. fight uncle?  Pan: 
Helenus' no: yes he'll fight indifferent, well, I marvel where Troilus is; hark do you not here the people cry Troilus? Helenus is a priest;  Cres: 
What sneaking fellow comes yonder?  Enter Troilus. Panda: 
Where? yonder? that's Deiphobus. 'tis Troilus! there's a man Niece▪ him? brave Troilus the Prince of chivalry.  Cres. 
Peace for shame peace.  Pan. 
Mark him, note him: O brave Troilus, look well upon him Niece, look you how his sword is bloodied, and his helm more hacked than Hector's, and how he looks, and how he goes? O admirable youth, he never saw three and twenty, go thy way Troilus, go thy way, had I a sister were a grace, or a daughter a Goddess, he should take his choice, O admirable man! Paris? Paris is dirt to him, and I warrant Helen to change would give an eye to boot.  Cres. 
Here comes more.  Pa. 
Asses, fools, dolts, chaff & bran, chaff & bran, porridge after meat, I could live and die in the eyes of Troilus, near look, near look, the Eagles are gone, crows and daws, crows and daws, I had rather be such a man as Troilus, than Agamemnon and all Greece.  Cres. 
There is amongst the greeks Achilles a better man than Troilus.  Pan. 
Achilles, a dray-man, a porter, a very Camel.  Cres. 
Well well:  Pan. 
Well, well, why have you any discretion, have you any eyes, do you know what a man is? is not birth, beauty, good shape, discourse, manhood, learning, gentleness, virtue youth, liberality and such like, the spice & salt that season a man.  Cres. 
I a minst man, and then to be baked with no date in the pie, for then the man's date is out:  Pan. 
You are such a woman a man knows not at what ward you lie:  Cres. 
Upon my back to defend my belly, upon my wit to defend my wiles, upon my secrecy to defend mine honesty, my mask to defend my beauty, and you to defend all these: and at all these wards I lie, at a thousand watches.  Pan. 
Say one of your watches.  Cres. 
Nay I'll watch you for that; and that's one of the chiefest of them two: If I cannot ward what I would not have hit: I can watch you for te●ling how I took the blow unless it swell passed hiding and then its past watching:  Pan: 
You are such another:  Enter Boy: Boy: 
Sir my Lord would instantly speak with you.  Pan: 
Where?  Boy: 
At your own house there he unarmes him:  Pan. 
Good boy tell him I come, I doubt he be hurt, fare ye well good Niece:  Cres: 
Adieu uncle:  Pan: 
I will be with you Niece by and by:  Cres: 
To bring uncle:  Pan: 
I a token from Troilus:  Cres: 
By the same token you are a Bawd,  
Words, vows, gifts, tears and loves full sacrifice:  
He offers in another's enterprise,  
But more in Troilus thousand fold I see,  
Then in the glass of Panders praise may be:  
Yet hold I off: women are angels wooing,  
" Things won are done, joys foul lies in the doing.  
That she beloved, knows nought that knows not this,  
" Men price the thing ungaind more than it is,  
That she was never yet that ever knew  
Love got so sweet, as when desire did sue,  
Therefore this maxim out of love I teach,  
" Atchivement is command; ungaind beseech,  
Then though my hearts content firm love doth bear,  
Nothing of that shall from mine eyes appear.  Exit. Enter Agamemnon▪ Nestor, Ulysses, Diomedes, Menelaus' with others. Aga. 
Princes: what grief hath set these jaundice o'er your cheeks?  
The ample proposition that hope makes,  
In all designs begun on earth below,  
Fails in the promised largeness, checks and disasters,  
Grow in the veins of actions highest reared.  
As kno●● by the conflux of meeting sap,  
Infects the sound Pine, and diverts his grain,  
Tortive and errant from his course of growth.  
Nor Princes is it matter new to us,  
That we come short of our suppose so far,  
That after seven years siege, yet Troy walls stand,  
Sith ever action that hath gone before,  
Whereof we have record, trial did draw,  
Bias and thwart: not answering the aim,  
And that unbodied figure of the thought,  
That gav't surmised shape: why then you Princes,  
Do you with cheeks abashed behold our works,  
And call them shames which are indeed nought else,  
But the protractive trials of great love,  
To find persistive constancy in men.  
The fineness of which metal is not found,  
In fortune's love: for then the bold and coward,  
The wise and fool, the Artist and unread,  
The hard and soft se●m ●●ll affined and ●in,  
But in the wind and tempest of her frown,  
Distinction with a broad and powerful fan,  
Puffing at all, winnowss the light away,  
And what hath mass or matter by itself,  
Lies rich in virtue and unmingled.  Nestor. 
With due observance of the godlike seat,  
Great Agamemnon, Nestor shall apply  
Thy latest words. In the reproof of chance,  
Lies the true proof of men: the sea being smooth,  
How many shallow bauble boat, dare ●aile,  
Upon her ancient breast, making their way  
With those of nobler bulk?  
But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage  
The gentle Th●t is, and anon, behold  
The strong ribbd bark through liquid mountains cut,  
Bounding between the two moist elements,  
Like Perseus' horse. Where's then the saucy boat,  
Whose weak untymberd sides but even now  
Corrivald greatness? either to harbot fled,  
Or made a toast for Neptune: even so  
Doth valours show, and valours worth divide  
In storms of fortune; for in her ray and brightness  
The herd hath more annoyance by the Bryze  
Then by the Tiger, but when the splitting wind,  
Makes flexible the knees of knotted Oaks,  
And Flies fled under shade, why then the thing of courage,  
As rouzd with rage, with rage doth sympathize,  
And with an accent tuned in self same key,  
Retires to chiding fortune.  Vliss. 
Agamemnon,  
Thou great Commander, nerves and bone of Greece,  
Hea●t of our numbers, soul and only sprite,  
In whom the tempers and the minds of all  
Should be shut up: here what Ulysses speaks,  
Besides th'applause and approbation,  
The which most mighty (for thy place and sway  
And thou most reverend) for the stretched out life,  
I give to both your speeches; which were such  
As Agamemnon and the hand of Greece,  
Should hold up high in brass, and such again  
As venerable Nestor (hatched in silver)  
Should with a bond of air strong as the Axel-tree,  
(On which heaven rides) knit all the Greekish cares  
To his experienced tongue, yet let it please both  
Thou great and wise, to hear Ulysses speak.  
Troy yet upon his bases had been down,  
And the great Hector's sword had lacked a master  
But for these instances.  
The specialty of rule hath been neglected,  
And look how many Grecian tents do stand,  
Hollow upon this plain, so many hollow factions,  
When that the general is not like the hive,  
To whom the foragers shall all repair,  
What honey is expected? Degree being vizarded  
Th'unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask.  
The heavens themselves, the planets and this centre  
Observe degree, priority and place,  
In sisture, course, proportion, season form,  
Office and custom, in all line of order.  
And therefore is the glorious planet Sol,  
In noble eminence enthroned and spherd,  
Amidst the other; whose medicinable eye,  
Corrects the influence of evil Planets,  
And posts like the Commandment of a King,  
Sans check to good and bad. But when the Planets,  
In evil mixture to disorder wander,  
What plagues, and what portents, what mutiny?  
What raging of the sea, shaking of earth?  
Commotion in the winds, frights, changes, horrors  
Divert and crack, rend and deracinate,  
The unity and married claim of states  
Quite from their fixure: O when degree is shaked,  
Which is the ladder of all high designs,  
The enterprise is sick. How could communities;  
Degrees in schools, and brotherhoods in Cities,  
Peaceful commerce from devidable shores,  
The primogenitie and due of birth,  
Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels,  
But by degree stand in authentic place:  
Take but degree away, untune that string,  
And hark what discord follows, each thing melts  
In mere oppugnancie: the bounded waters  
Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores,  
And make a sop of all this solid globe:  
Strength should be Lord of imbecility,  
And the rude son should strike his father dead.  
Force should be right or rather right and wrong,  
(Between whose endless jar justice resides)  
Should lose their names, and so should justice to?  
Then every thing include itself in power,  
Power into will will into appetite,  
And appetite an universal Wolf,  
(So doubly seconded with will and power)  
Must make perforce an universal prey,  
And last eat up himself.  
Great Agamemnon,  
This chaos when degree is suffocate,  
Follows the choking.  
And this neglection of degree it is,  
That by a pace goes backward with a purpose  
It hath to climb. The generals disdained,  
By him one step below, he by the next,  
That next by him beneath, so every step,  
Exampled by the first pace that is sick  
Of his superior, grows to an envious fever  
Of pale and bloodless emulation,  
And 'tis this fever that keeps Troy on foot,  
Not her own sinews. To end a tale of length,  
Troy in our weakness stands not in her strength.  Nestor. 
Most wisely hath Ulysses here discovered,  
The fever whereof all our power is sick.  Agamem. 
The nature of the sickness found Ulysses  
What is the remedy?  Ulysses. 
The great Achilles whom opinion crowns,  
The sinnow and the forehand of our host,  
Having his care full of his airy same,  
Grows dainty of his worth, and in his Tent  
Lies mocking our designs: with him Patroclus  
Upon a lazy bed the livelong day,  
Breaks scurrell jests,  
And with ridiculous and silly action,  
Which (slanderer) he Imitation calls,  
He pageants us. Sometime great Agamemnon,  
Thy topless deputation he puts on,  
And like a strutting Player, whose conceit  
Lies in his ham-st●ing, and doth think it rich  
To here the wooden dialogue and sound,  
Twixt his stretched footing and the scoaffollage,  
Such to be pitied and ore-rested seeming,  
He acts thy greatness in▪ And when he speaks,  
'tis like a chime a mending, with terms unsquare,  
Which from the tongue of roaring Typhoon dropped,  
Would seem hiperboles, at this fusty stuff,  
The large Achilles on his priest bed lolling,  
From his deep chest laughs out aloud applause,  
Cries excellent; 'tis Agamemnon right,  
Now play me Nest●r, him and stroke thy beard,  
As he being dressed to some Oration,  
That's done, as near ●s the extremest ends  
Of parallels as like as Vnlcan and his wife:  
Yet god Achilles still cries excellent,  
'tis Nestor right: now play him me Patroclus,  
Arming to answer in a night alarm,  
And then forsooth the faint defects of age,  
Must be the scene of mirth, to cough and spit,  
And with a palsy fumbling on his gorget,  
Shake in and out the rivet, and at this sport  
Sir valour dies, cries O enough Patroclus,  
Or give me ribs of steel, I shall split all  
In pleasure of my spleen, and in this fashion,  
All our abilities gifts, natures shapes,  
severals and generals of grace exact,  
achievements, plots, orders, preventions,  
Excitements to the field, or speech for truce,  
Success or loss, what is, or is not, 〈◊〉  
As stuff for these two▪ to make paradoxes.  Nestor. 
And in the imitation of these twain,  
Who as Ulysses says opinion crowns,  
With an imperial voice: many aro infect,  
Ajax is grown self-willed, and bears his head  
In such a rain, in full as proud a place  
As broad Achilles: keeps his Tent like him,  
Makes factious feasts, rails on our state of war,  
bold as an Oracle, and sets Thersites  
A slave, whose gall coins standers like a mint,  
To match v●in comparisons with dirt,  
To weaken our discredit, our exposure  
How rank so ever rounded in with danger,  Ulysses. 
They tax our-pollicie; and call it cowardice;  
Count wisdom as no member of the war,  
Forstall prescience, and esteem no act  
But that of hand, the still and mental parts,  
That do contri●e how many hands shall strike,  
When fitness calls them on, and know by measure  
Of their observant roil the enemy's weight,  
Why this hath not a fingers dignity,  
They call this bed-worke, mappry, Closet war,  
So that the Ram that batters down the wall,  
For the great swinge and rudeness of his poise,  
They place before his hand that made the engine,  
Or those that with the 〈◊〉 of their souls,  
By reason guide his execution.  Nest. 
Let this be granted, and Achilles' horse  
Makes many 〈◊〉 sons,  Agam. 
What trumpet? look Menelaus▪  Mene. 
From Troy.  Agam. 
What would you fore our tent  Aene. 
Is this great Agamemon's tent I pray you?  Agam. 
Even this.  Aene. 
May one that is a Herr'ald and a Prince,  
Do a fair message to his Kingly eyes?  Agam. 
With surrty strong earth on Achilles' 〈◊〉  
Fore all the Greekish heads, which with one voice,  
Call Agamemnon head and general.  Aene. 
Fair leave and large security, how may  
A stranger to those most imperial looks,  
Know them from eyes of other mortals?  Agam. 
How?  Aene. 
ay, I ask that I might waken reverence,  
And bid the cheek be ready with a blush,  
Modest as morning, when she coldly eyes the youthful Phoebus,  
Which is that god, in Office guiding men,  
Which is the high and mighty Agamemnon.  Agam. 
This Trojan scorns us, or the men of Troy,  
Are ceremonious Courtiers.  Aene, 
Courtiers as free as debonair, unarmed  
As bending Angels, that's their same in peace:  
But when they would seem soldiers, they have galls,  
Good arms, strong joints, true sword, & great loves accord  
Nothing so full of heart: but peace Aeneas,  
Peace Trojan, lay thy finger on thy lips,  
The worthiness of praise distaines his worth,  
If that the praised himself bring the praise forth.  
But what the repining enemy commends,  
That breath fame blows, that praise sole pure transcends.  Agam. 
Sir you of Troy, call you yourself Aeneas?  Aene. 
I Greek, that is my name.  Agam. 
What's your affairs I pray you?  Aene. 
Sir pardon, 'tis for Agamemnon's cares.  Aga. 
He here's ●●ught privately that comes from Troy.  Aene. 
Nor I from Troy come not to whisper with him,  
I bring a trumpet to awake his ●are,  
To set his seat on that attentive bent,  
And then to speak.  Agam. 
Speak frankly as the wind,  
It is not Agamemnon's sleeping hour;  
That thou shalt know Trojan he is awake,  
He tells thee so himself.  Aene. 
Trumpet blow aloud,  
Send thy brass voice through all these lazy tents,  
And every Greek of m●trell let him a now,  
What Troy means fairly, shall be spoke aloud,  Sound trumpet. 
We have great 〈◊〉 her in Troy,  
A Prince called Hector, 〈◊〉 is his father,  
Who in his dull and long continued truce,  
Is resty grown: H● bade me take a Trumpet,  
And to this 〈◊〉 speak, Kings, Princes, Lords,  
If ●here be one among the fairest of Greece,  
That holds his honour higher than his case,  
And feeds his praise, more than he fears his perilt,  
That knows his 〈…〉 ● knows not his fear,  
That loves his 〈◊〉 more than in confession,  
(With truant vows to her own lips he loves)  
And dare avow her beauty, and her worth,  
In other arms than hers: to him this challenge;  
Hector in view of Trojans and of greeks,  
Shall make it good or do his best to do it:  
He hath a Lady, wiser, fairer, truer,  
Then ever Greek did couple in his arms,  
And will to morrow with his Trumpet call;  
Midway between your tents and walls of Troy,  
To rouse a Grecian that is true in l●●e;  
If only come; Hector shall honour him▪  
If none, he le say in Troy where he 〈◊〉,  
The Grecian dames are sunburnt, and not worth  
The splinter of a Lance. Even so much▪  Agam. 
This shall be told our lovers Lord Aeneas,  
If none of them have soul in such a 〈◊〉.  
We 〈◊〉 them all at 〈◊〉, we are soldiers,  
And may that soldier a 〈◊〉 recreant prove,  
That means not, hath 〈◊〉, or is not in love:  
If then one is, or hath a means to be,  
That one meets Hector: if none else I am 〈◊〉.  Nest. 
Tell him of Nestor, 〈◊〉 was a man  
When Hector's 〈…〉 ● He is old now,  
But if there be not in our Grecian host,  
A noble man that hath no spark of fire  
To answer 〈…〉 ●  
I'll hide my silver ●eard in a gold beaver,  
And in my vantbrace put, my 〈◊〉 brawns  
And meeting him tell him that my Lady,  
Was fairer than his grandam, and as chaste,  
As may be in the world (his youth in flood)  
I'll prove this troth with my three drops of blood,  Aene. 
Now heavens forfend such 〈◊〉 of men▪  Vlis. 
Amen▪ fair Lord Aeneas let me touch your hand,  
To our pavilion shall I lead you 〈◊〉;  
Achilles shall have word of this intent,  
So shall each Lord of Greece from tent to tent,  
Yourself shall feast with us before you go,  
And find the welcome of a noble so.  Vlis. 
Nestor.  Nest: 
What says Ulysses?  Vlis. 
I have a young conception in my brain,  
Be you my time to bring it to some shape.  Nest. 
What ist?  Vlis: 
Blunt wodges true hard knots, the seeded pride,  
That▪ hath to this maturity blown up  
In rank Achilles, must or now be cropped,  
Or shedding breed a nursery of like evil,  
To over-bulk us all.  Nest. 
Well and how?  Vlis: 
This challenge that the gallant Hector sends,  
How ever it is spread in general name  
Relates in purpose only to Achilles.  Nest. 
True the purpose is perspicuous as substance,  
Whose grofensse little characters sum up▪  
And in the publication make no strain,  
But that Achilles wear his brain, as barren,  
As banks of libya (though Apollo knows  
'tis dry enough) will with great speed of judgement,  
I with celerity find Hector's purpose, pointing on him.  Vlis. 
And wake him to the answer think you?  Nest. 
Why 'tis most meet; who may you else oppose▪  
That can from Hector bring those honours off,  
If not Achilles: though't be a sportful combat.  
Yet in the trial much opinion dwells:  
For here the Trojans taste our dearest repute,  
With their finest palate, and tru●● to me Vlissis  
Our imputation shallbe oddly poizde  
In this wild action, for the success,  
Although particular shall give a scantling  
Of good or bad unto the general,  
And in such indices (although small pricks  
To their subsequent volumes) there is seen,  
The baby figure of the giant mass,  
Of things to come at large: It is supposed  
He that meets Hector, issues from our choice,  
And choice (being mutual act of all our souls)  
Makes merit her election, and doth boil,  
(As 'twere from forth us all) a man distilled  
Out of our virtues, who miscarrying,  
What heart receives from hence a conquering part,  
To steel a strong opinion to themselves.  Vliss. 
Give pardon to my speech? therefore 'tis meet,  
Achilles meet not Hector, let us like Merchants  
First show foul wares, and think perchance they'll sell;  
If not; the lustre of the better shall exceed,  
By showing the worst first: do not consent,  
That ever Hector and Achilles meet,  
For both our honour and our shame in this, are dogged with two strange followers.  Nest. 
I see them not with my old eyes what are they?  Vliss. 
What glory our Achilles shares from Hector  
Were he not proud, we all should share with him:  
But he already is too insolent.  
And it were better par●ch in afric Sun,  
Then in the pride and salt scorn of his eyes  
Should he scape Hector fair. If he were foiled,  
Why then we do our main opinion crush  
In taint of our best man. No, make a lottry  
And by devise let blockish Ajax draw  
The sort to fight with Hector, among ourselves,  
Give him allowance for the better man,  
For that will physic the great Myrmidon,  
Who broils in loud applause, and make him fall,  
His crest that prouder than blue Iris be●ds,  
If the dull brainless Ajax come safe off  
we'll dress him up in voices, if he fail  
Yet go we under our opinion still,  
That we have better men, but hit or miss,  
Our projects life this shape of sense assumes  
Ajax employed plucks down Achilles' plumes.  Nest. 
Now Ulysses I begin to relish thy advise,  
And I will give a taste thereof forthwith,  
To Agamemnon, go we to him strait  
Two curs shall came each other, pride alone  
Must art the mastiffs on, as 'twere a hone.  Exexnt. Enter Ajax and Thersites. Ajax. 
Thersites.  Ther. 
Agamemnon, how if he had bites, full, all over, generally.  Ajax. 
Thersites.  Ther. 
And those biles did run (say so), did not the general run then, were not that a botchy coro.  Ajax. 
Dog.  Ther. 
Then would come some matter from him, I see none now.  Aia: 
Thou bitchwolfs' son canst thou not hear, feel then.  Ther. 
The plague of Greece upon thee thou mongrel beef witted Lord.  Ajax. 
Speak then thou unsalted leaven, speak, I will beat thee into handsomeness.  Ther. 
I shall sooner rail thee into wit and holiness, but I think thy horse will sooner ken an oration without book, than thou learn prayer without book, thou canst strike canst thou? a red murrion ath thy jades tricks.  Ajax. 
T●de-stoole? learn me the proclamation.  Ther: 
Dost thou think I have no sense thou strikest me thus?  Ajax. 
The proclamation.  Ther: 
Thou art proclaimed fool I think.  Ajax. 
Do not Porpentin, do not, my finger's itch:  Ther. 
I would thou didst itch from head to foot, and I had the scratching of the, I would make thee the lothsomest scab in Greece, when thou art forth in the incursions thou strikest as glow as another.  Ajax. 
I say the proclamation.  Ther. 
Thou gromblest and railest every hour on Achilles, and thou art as full of envy at his greatness, as C●rb●rus is at Proser●inas beauty, I that thou barkst at him.  Ajax. 
Mistress Thersites.  Ther. 
Thou shouldst strike him. Ajax Coblofe, He would pun thee into shivers with his fist, as a sailor breaks a biscuit, you whoreson cur. Do? do?  Ajax: 
Thou stool for a witch:  Ther. 
ay, Do? do? thou sodden witted Lord, thou hast no more brain than I have in mine elbows, an Asinico may cutor thee, you scurvy valiant ass, thou art here but to thrash Trojans, and thou art bought and sold among those of any wit, like a Barbarian slave. If thou use to beat me I will begin at thy heel, and tell what thou art by inches, thou thing of no bowels thou.  Ajax. 
You dog:  Ther. 
You scun●y Lord.  Ajax. 
You cur.  Ther. 
Mars his Idiot, do rudeness, do Camel, do, do.  Achil. 
Why how now Ajax wherefore do ye thus,  
How now Thersites what's the matter man.  Ther. 
You see him there? do you?  Achil. 
I what's the matter.  Ther. 
Nay look upon him.  Achil. 
So I do, what's the matter?  Ther. 
Nay but regard him well.  Achil: 
Well, why so I do.  Ther: 
But yet you look o● well upon him, for who some ever you take him to be he is Ajax.  Achil. 
I know that fool.  Ther. 
I but that fool knows not himself.  Ajax: 
Therefore I be ate thee.  Ther: 
Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters, his evasions have ears thus long, I have bobbed his brain more than he has beat my bones. It will buy nine sparrows for a penny, and his pia matter is not worth the ninth part of a sparrow: this Lord (Achilles) Ajax, who wears his wit in his belly, and his guts in his head, I tell you what I say of him.  Ach. 
What.  Ther. 
I say this Ajax.  Achil. 
Nay good Ajax.  Ther. 
Has not so much wit.  Achil. 
Nay I must hold you.  Ther. 
As will stop the eye of Helen's needle, for whom he comes to fight.  Achil. 
Peace fool?  Ther. 
I would have peace and quietness, but the fool will not, he there, that he: look you there?  Ajax. 
Oh thou damned cur●e I shall—  Achil. 
Will you set your wit to a fools.  Ther. 
No I warrant you, the fools will shame it.  Patro. 
Good words Thesites.  Achil. 
What's the quarrel.  Ajax. 
I bade the vile owl go learn me the ●enor of the proclamation, and he rails upon me.  Ther. 
I serve thee not?  Ajax. 
Well, go to, go to.  Ther. 
I serve here voluntary.  Achil. 
Your last service was sufferance: 'twas not voluntary, no man is beaten voluntary, Ajax was here the voluntary, and you as under an Impress.  Ther. 
E'en so, a great deal of your wit to, lies in your sinews, or else there be hers, Hector shall have a great catch and knock at either of your beains, a were as good crack a sust● nut with no kernel.  Achil. 
What with me to Thersites.  Ther. 
The●s Ulysses and old Nestor, whose wit was mouldy ere their grandsiets had nails, yoke you like draft oxen, and make you plough up the wars.  Achil 
What? what?  Ther. 
Yes good sooth to Achill●, to Ajax, to—  Ajax. 
I shall ●ut out your to ●●ue.  Ther. 
'tis no matter, I shall speak as much as thou afterwards.  Patro. 
No more words Thersites peace.  Ther. 
I will hold my peace when Achilles brooch bids me, shall I?  Achil. 
There's for you Patroclus.  Ther. 
I will see you hanged like Clatpoles, ere I come any more to your tents, I will keep where there is wit stirring, and leave the faction of fools.  Exit. Patro. 
A good riddance.  Achil. 
Marry this sir is proclaimed through all our hosle,  
That Hector by the first hour of the Sun.  
Will with a trumpet twixt our Tents and Troy,  
To morrow morning call some Knight to arms,  
That hath a stomach, and such a one that dare,  
Maintain I know not what, ('tis rash) farewell—  Ajax. 
Farewell, who shall answer him.  Achil. 
I know not, ●is put to lottry, otherwise,  
He knew his man.  Ajax. 
O meaning you? I will go learn more of it.  Enter Prian, Hector, Troilus, Paris and Helenus. Priam. 
After so many hours, lives, speeches spent,  
Thus once again says Nestor from the greeks:  
Deliver Helen, (and all damage else,  
As honour, loss o● time, travel, expense,  
Wounds, friends and what else dear that is confirmed  
In hot digestion of this cormoraut war)  
shallbe struck off, Hector what say you to't?  Hector: 
Though no man lesser sears the greeks than I  
As far as toucheth my particular yet dread Priam  
There is no Lady of more softer bowels,  
More spongy to suck in the sense of fear:  
More ready to cry out, who knows what follows  
Then Hector is: the ●ound of peace is surely  
Surely secure, but modest doubt is called,  
The be●●on of the wise, the tent that searches,  
Too'th bottom of the worst let Helen go,  
Since the first sword was drawn about this question  
Every tith soul amongst many thousand dimes,  
Hath been as dear as Hellen. I mean of o●●s,  
If we have lost so many ●enthes of ours,  
To guard a thing not ours, not worth to us,  
(Had it our name) the value of one ten,  
What merits in that reason which denies,  
The yielding, of her up?  Troy. 
Fie, fie, my brother,  
Way you the worth and honour of a King:  
So great as our dread fathers in a scale  
Of common ounces? will you with Com●ters sum,  
The past proportion of his infinite  
And buckle in, a waste most ●atho●les,  
With spanes and inches so dymi●u●●e▪  
As fears and reasons: Fie for Godly shame?  Hele. 
No marvel though you bite so sharp of reasons,  
You are so empty of them should not our father;  
Bear the great sway of his affairs with reason,  
Because your speech hath none that tell him so?  Troy. 
You are for dreams and slumbers brother Priest,  
You fur your gloves with reason, here are your reasons  
You know an enemy intends you harm:  
You know a sword employed is perilous  
And reason flies the object of all harm.  
Who marvels then when Helenus beholds,  
A Grecian and his sword, if he do set  
The very wings of reason to his heels,  
And 〈◊〉 like chidden Mere●ry from Io●e  
Or like a star disorbd? nay if we talk of reason,  
Sets shut our gates and sleep: manhood and honour,  
Should have hare hearts, would they but fat their thoughts  
With this crammed reason, reason and respect,  
Make livers pale, and lush hood deject.  Hect. 
Brother, she is not worth, what she doth 〈◊〉 the keeping.  Troy. 
What's aught but as 'tis valued.  Hect. 
But value dwells not in particular will,  
It holds his estimate and dignity,  
As well wherein 'tis precious of itself  
As in the prizer, 'tis mad Idolatry  
To make the service greater than the God,  
And the will dotes that is attributive;  
To what ' infectiously itself affects,  
Without some image of th'affected merit,  Troy. 
I take to day a wise, and my election▪  
Is led on in the conduct of my will,  
My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears,  
Two traded pilots twixt the dangerous shore,  
Of will and judgement: how may I avoid?  
(Although my will distaste what it elected)  
The wife I choose, there can be no evasion,  
To blench from this and to stand firm by honour,  
We turn not back the silks upon the merchant  
When we have soiled them, nor the remainder viands,  
We do not throw in vn●espectue siue,  
Because we now are full, it was thought meet  
Paris should do some vengeance on the greeks.  
Your breath with full consent bellied his ●ailes,  
The seas and winds (old wranglers) took a ●tuce:  
And did him service, he touched the ports desired▪  
And for an old aunt whom the greeks held Captive,  
He brought a Grecian Queen, whose youth and freshness,  
Wrinkle, Apollo's, and makes pale the morning.  
Why keep we her? the Grecians keep our Aunt,  
Is she worth keeping? why she is a pearl  
Whose price hath lansh'● above a thousand ships:  
And turned 〈◊〉 Kings to Merchants,  
If you'll 〈◊〉 'twas wisdom Paris went,  
As you must needs, for you all cried go, go,  
If you'll confess be brought home worthy prize:  
As you must needs, for you all, clapped your hands,  
〈…〉 ● why do you now  
The issue of your proper wisdoms rate,  
And do a deed that never fortune did,  
Beggar the estimation, which you 〈◊〉  
Richer than sea and land? O thest most base,  
That we have stolen, what we do fear to keep,  
But thieves unworthy of 〈◊〉 so stolen:  
That in their country did them that disgrace,  
We fear to warrant i● our native place.  Enter Cassandra raving. Cass. 
Cry Trojans cry:  Priam. 
What noise? what shrik is this?  Troy. 
'tis our mad 〈◊〉 I do know h●● voice.  Cass. 
Cry Troy●●s.  Hect. 
It is Cassandra!  Cass. 
Cry Troyans cry, 〈◊〉 thousand eyes,  
And I will fill them with prophetic tears.  Hect. 
Peace sister peace▪  Cass. 
Virgins and boys, mid-age, and wrinkled elders,  
Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cire,  
Add to my clamours: et us pay betimes  
A moiety of that mass of moan to come:  
Cry Trojans cry, practise your eyes with tears,  
Troy must not be, nor goodly I lion stand.  
Our firebrand brother Paris burns us all,  
Cry Tro●aus cry, a Holen and a woe.  
Cry, cry, Troy burns, or else let Hellen go.  Exit. Hect. 
Now youthful troilus, do not these high strains  
Of divination in our S●ster, work  
Some touches of remorse? or is your blood  
So madly hot, that no discourse of reason,  
Nor fear of bad success in a bad cause,  
Can qualify the same?  Troy. 
Why brother Hector,  
We may not think the justness of each act  
Such, and no other than event doth form it,  
Nor once deject the courage of our minds,  
Because Cassandra's mad, her brainsick raptures  
Cannot distaste the goodness of a quarrel,  
Which hath our several honours all engaged,  
To make it gracious. For my private part,  
I am no more touched than all Priam's sons:  
And jove forbid there should be done amongst us,  
Such things as might offend the weakest spleen,  
To fight for and maintain.  Par. 
Else might the world convince of levity,  
As well my undertake as your counsels,  
But I attest the gods, your full consent,  
Gave wings to my propension, and cut off  
All ●eares attending on so dire a protect,  
For what (alas) can these my single arms?  
What propugnation is in one man's valour  
To stand the push and enmity of those  
This quarrel would excite? Yet I protest  
Were I alone to pass the difficulties,  
And had as ample power, as I have will,  
Paris should near ●etract, what he hath done,  
Nor faint in the pursuit,  Pria. 
Paris you speak  
Like one be-sotted on your sweet delights,  
You have the honey still, but these the gall,  
So to be valiant, is no praise at all.  Par. 
Sir, I propose not merely to myself,  
The pleasures such a beauty brings with it,  
But I would have the soil of her faite rape,  
Wiped of in honourable keeping her,  
What ●reason were it to the ransacked queen,  
Disgrace to your great worths, and shame to me▪  
Now to deliver her possession up  
On terms of base compulsion? can it be,  
That so degenerate a strain as this,  
Should once set footing in your generous bosoms?  
There's not the meanest spirit on our party,  
Without a heart to dare, or sword to draw,  
When Helen is defended: nor none so noble,  
Whose life were ill bestowed, or death unfamed,  
Where Helen is the subject. Then I say,  
Well may we fight for her, whom we know well,  
The world's large spaces cannot parallel.  Hect. 
Paris and troilus, you have both said well,  
And on the cause and question now in hand,  
Have glo●d, but superficially, not much  
Unlike young men, whom Aristotle thought  
Unfit to here Moral Philosophy;  
The reasons you allege, do more conduce  
To the hot passion of distempered blood,  
Then to make up a free determination  
Twixt right and wrong: for pleasure and revenge,  
Have ears more deaf than Adders to the voice  
Of any true decision, Nature craves  
All dues be rendered to their owners, Now  
What nearer debt in all humanity,  
Then wife is to the husband▪ if this law  
Of nature be corrupted through affection  
And that great minds of partial indulgence,  
To their benumbed wills resist the same,  
There is a law in each well-orderd nation,  
To curb those raging appetites that are  
Most disobedient and refracturio;  
If Helen then be wife to Sparta's King,  
As it is known she is, these moral laws  
Of nature and of nations, speak aloud  
To have her back returned: thus to persist  
In doing wrong, extenuates not wrong,  
But makes it much more heavy. Hector's opinion  
Is this in way of truth: yet near the less,  
My sprightly brethren▪ I propend to you  
In resolution to keep Helen still,  
For 'tis a cause that hath no mean dependence,  
Upon our joint and several dignities.  Tro. 
Why there you touched the life of our designer  
Were it not glory that we more affected,  
Then the performance of our heaving spleens,  
I would not wish a drop of Troy an blood,  
Spent more in her defence. But worthy Hector,  
She is a theme of honour and renown,  
A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds,  
Whose present courage may be eaten down our foes,  
And fame in time to come canonize us,  
For I presume brave Hector would not lose  
So rich advantage of a promised glory,  
As smiles upon the forehead of this action,  
For the wide world's revenue.  Hect. 
I am yours,  
You valiant offspring of great Priamus,  
I have a roisting challenge sent amongst  
The dull and factious nobles of the greeks,  
Will shriek amazement to their drowsy spirits,  
I was advertizd, their great general slept,  
Whilst emulation in the army crept:  
This I presume will wake him.  Exeunt. 
How now Thersites? what lost in the Labyrinth of thy fury? shall the Elephant Ajax carry it thus? he beats me, and I rail at him: O worthy satisfaction, would it were otherwise: that I could beat him, whilst he railed at me: 'Sfoot, ●Ile learn to conjure and raise Devils, but I'll see some issue of my spiteful execrations. Then there's Achilles, a rare engineer. If Troy be not taken till these two undermine it, the walls will stand till they fall of themselves, O thou great thunder-darter of Olympus, forget that thou art Io●e the king of gods: and Mercury, lose all the Serpentine craft of thy Caduceus, if ye take not that little little less than little wit from the● that they have: which short-armd Ignorance itself knows is so abundant scarce, it will not in circumvention delurer a fly from a spider, without drawing their massy Irons▪ and cutting the web. After this the vengeance on the whole ca●●pe, or rather the Neapolitan bone-ache: for that me thinks is the curse depending on those that war for a placket. I have said my prayers, and devil Envy say Amen. What ho my Lord Achilles?  Patrocl. 
Whose there? Thersites? good Thersites come in and rail.  Thersi. 
If I could a remembered a guilt counterfeit, thou couldst not have slipped out of my contemplation: but it is no matter, thyself upon thyself. The common curse of mankind, Folly and Ignorance, be thine in great revenue: Heaven bless thee from a tutor, and discipline come not near thee. Let thy blood be thy direction till thy death: then if she that lays thee out says thou art not a fair course, I'll be sworn and sworn upon't, she never shrouded any but lazars. Amen. Where's Achilles?  Patro. 
What art thou devout? waste thou in prayer?  there's. 
I the heavens hear me.  Patro. 
Amen.  Enter Achilles. Achil. 
Who's there?  Patro. 
Thersites my Lord.  Achil. 
Where? where? O where? art thou come why my cheese, my digestion, why hast thou not served thyself into my table, so many meals, come what's Agamemnon?  Ther. 
Thy commander Achilles, then tell me Patroclus, what's Achilles?  Patro. 
Thy Lord Thersites. Then tell me I pray thee, what's Thersites?  Ther. 
Thy knower, Patroclus: then tell me Patroclus, what art thou?  Patro. 
Thou must tell that knowest.  Achil. 
O tell, tell.  Ther. 
I'll decline the whole question. Agamemnon commands Achilles, Achilles is my Lord, I am Patroclus knower, and Patroclus is a fool.  Achil. 
Derive this? come?  Ther. 
Agamemnon is a fool to offer to command Achilles, Achilles is a fool to be commanded. Thersites is a fool to serve such a fool, and this Patroclus is a fool positive.  Patr. 
Why am I a fool?  Ther. 
Make that demand of the Prover, it suffices me thou art: look you, who comes here?  Enter Agam: uliss: Nestor, Diomedes, Ajax & Calcas. Achil. 
Come Patroclus, I'll speak with no body: come in with me Thersites.  Ther. 
Here is such patchery, such juggling, and such knavery: all the argument is a whore, and a Cuckold, a good quarrel to draw emulous factions, & bleed to death upon.  Agam. 
Where is Achilles?  Patro. 
Within his tent, but ill disposed my Lord.  Aga. 
Let it be known to him; ●hat we are here,  
He sat, our messengers and we lay by,  
Our appertaining, visiting of him  
Let him be told so, lest perchance he think,  
We dare not move the question of our place,  
Or know not what we are.  Patro. 
I shall say so to him.  Vliss. 
We saw him at the opening of his tent,  
He i● not sick.  Ajax. 
Yes Lion sick, sick of proud heart, you may call it melancholy if you will favour the man. But by my head 'tis pride: but why, why, let him show us a cause?  Nest. 
What moves Ajax thus to bay at him?  Vliss. 
Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him,  Nest. 
Who Thersites?  Vlis. 
Herald  Nest. 
Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost his argument.  Vlis. 
No you see he is his argument, that has his argument Achilles.  Nes. 
All the better, their fraction is more our wish then their faction, but it was a strong composure a fool could disunite.  Vlis. 
The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie.  
here comes Patroclus.  Nest. 
No Achilles with him.  Vlis. 
The Elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy,  
His legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure.  Patro. 
Achilles bids me say he is much sorry,  
If any thing more than your sport and pleasure  
Did move your greatness, and this noble state,  
To call upon him. He hopes it is no other  
But for your health, and your digestion sake,  
An after dinners breath.  Agam. 
here you Patroclus:  
We are too well acquainted with these answers,  
But his cuasion winged thus swift with scorn,  
Cannot out-fly our apprehensions,  
Much attribute he hath, and much the reason  
Why we ascribe it to him. Yet all his virtues,  
Not virtuously on his own part beheld,  
Do in our eyes begin to lose their gloss,  
Yea like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish,  
Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell him,  
We come to speak with him, and you shall not winne,  
If you do say, we think him over-proud  
And under-honest, in self assumption greater  
Than in the note of judgement. And worthier than himself  
here tend the savage strangeness he puts on  
Disguise, the holy strength of their command,  
And vender-write in an observing kind,  
His humorous predominance: yea watch  
His course, and time, his ebbs and flows, and if  
The passage, and wholest came of his commeacement,  
Road on his tide Go tell him this, and add,  
That if he over-hold his price so much,  
we'll ' none of him, But let him like an engine,  
Not portable, lie under this report.  
Bring action hither, this cannot go to war,  
A stirring dwarf we do allowance give,  
Before a sleeping giant. Tell him so.  Patr. 
I shall, and bring his answer presently.  Agam. 
In second voice we'll not be satisfied,  
We come to speak with him: Ulysses entertain.  Ajax. 
What is he more than another.  Agam. 
No more than what he thinks he is.  Ajax. 
Is he so much: do you not think he thinks himself a better man than I am?  Agam. 
No question.  Ajax. 
Will you subscribe his thought, and say he is.  Agam. 
No noble Ajax, you are as strong, as valiant, as wife, no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether more tractable.  Aia. 
Why should a man be proud? how doth pride grow? I know not what pride is.  Agam. 
Your mind is the clearer, and your virtues the fairer, he that is proud eats up himself: Pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle, and what ever praises itself but in the deed, devours the deed in the praise.  Enter Ulysses. Ajax. 
I do hate a proud man, as I do hate the engendering of Toads.  Nest. 
And yet he loves himself, i●t not strange?  Vlis. 
Achilles will not to the field to morrow.  Agam. 
What's his excuse?  Vlis. 
He doth rely on none.  
But carries on the stream of his dispose,  
Without observance, or respect of any,  
In will peculiar, and in self admission.  Agam. 
Why will he not upon our fair request,  
Vntent his person, and share th' air with us.  Vlis. 
Things small as nothing, for requests sake only,  
He makes important possessed he is with greatness,  
And speaks not to himself but with a pride,  
That quarrels at self breath. Imagined worth,  
Holds in his blood such swollen and hot discurse,  
That twixt his mental and his active parts,  
Kingdom ● Achilles' in commotion rages,  
And batters down himself. What should I say,  
He is so plaguy proud, that the death tokens of it,  
Cry no recovery.  Agam. 
Let Ajax go to him,  
dear Lord, go you, and greet him in his tent,  
'Tis said he holds you well, and will be lead,  
At your request 〈◊〉 from himself.  Vlis. 
O Agamemnon let it not be so,  
we'll consecrate the steps that Ajax makes,  
When they go from Achilles: shall the proud Lord  
That ba●ts his arrogance with his own●seame,  
And never suffers matter of the world  
Enter his thoughts, 〈◊〉 such as doth revolve,  
And ●uminate himself: shall he be worshipped,  
Of that we hold an idol more than he,  
No● this thrice worthy and right valiant Lord,  
Shall not so stall his palm nob●y acquird,  
Nor by my will aslubiugate his merit,  
As amply liked as Achilles is by going to Achilles,  
That were to enlard his fat already pride,  
And add more coals to Cancer when he burns,  
With entertaining great Hiperi●●,  
This Lord go to him. jupiter forbid,  
And sa● in thunder Achilles go to him.  Nest. 
O this is well, he rubs the vain of him.  Diom. 
And how his silence drinks up his applause,  Aia. 
If I go to him: with my armed fist i'll push him o'er the ●a●e.  Agam. 
O no, you shall not go,  Aia. 
And he be proud with me, I'll phe●e his pride,  
Let me go● to him.  Vliss. 
Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.  Ajax. 
A paltry insolent fellow.  Nest. 
How he describes himself.  Ajax. 
Can he not be sociable.  Vliss. 
The Raven chides blackness.  Ajax. 
I'll tell his humorous blood.  Agam. 
He willbe the physician, that should be the patient.  Ajax. 
And all men were of my mind.  uliss 
Wit would be out of fashion.  Ajax. 
A should not bear it so, a should eat swords first? shall pride carry it?  Nest. 
And t●o●od yowed carry half.  Ajax. 
A would have ten shares. I will knead him, I'll make him supple he's not yet through warm?  Nest. 
Force him with prayers pour in, pour, his ambition is d●ie.  Vliss. 
My Lord you feed to much on this dislike,  Nest. 
Our noble general do not do so?  Diom. 
You must prepare to fight without Achilles.  uliss: 
Why 'tis this naming of him does him harm,  
H re is a man but 'tis before his face, I willbe silent.  Nest. 
Wherefore should you so?  
He is not emulous as Achilles is.  Vliss. 
Know the whole world he is as valiant—  Ajax. 
A hoarson dog that shall palter with us thus, would he were a Trojan?  Nest. 
What a vice were it in Ajax now:  uliss: 
If he were proud.  Diom. 
Or covetous of praise.  Vliss. 
I or surly borne.  Diom. 
Or strange or self affected.  uliss: 
Thank the heavens Lord, thou art of sweet composure  
Praise him that got thee, she that gave thee suck:  
Famed be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature,  
Thrice famed beyond all thy erudition:  
But he that disciplined thine arms to fight,  
Let Mars divide eternity in twain,  
And give him half, and for thy vigour?  
Bull-bearing Mil● his addition yield,  
To sinewy Ajax, I will not praise thy wisdom,  
Which like a board: a pale, a shore confines  
This spacious and dilated parts, here's Nestor,  
Instructed by the antiquary times:  
He must, he is, he cannot but be wise,  
But pardon father Nestor were your days  
As green as Ajax, and your brain so tempered,  
You should not have the eminence of him,  
But be as Ajax.  Ajax. 
Shall I call you father?  Nest. 
I my good Son.  Diom. 
Be ruled by him Lord Ajax.  Vliss. 
There is no tarrying here the Hart Achilles,  
Keeps thicket, please it our great general,  
To call together all his state of war,  
Fresh Kings are come to Troy, To morrow  
We must with all our main of power stand fast,  
And here's a Lord come Knights from East to West  
And call their flower, Ajax shall cope the best.  Aga. 
Go we to counsel, let Achilles sleep,  
Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw deep.  Exeunt. Enter Pandarus. Pan. 
Friend you, pray you a word, do you not follow the young Lord Paris.  man.. 
I sir when he goes before me.  Pan. 
You depend upon him I mean.  man.. 
Sir I do depend upon the Lord.  Pan. 
You depend upon a notable gentleman I must needs praise him.  man.. 
The Lord be praized?  Pan. 
You know me? ●oe you not?  man.. 
Faith sir superficially.  Pan. 
Friend know me better, I am the Lord Pandarus.  man.. 
I hope I shall know your honour better?  Pan. 
I do desire it.  man.. 
You are in the state of grace?  Pan. 
Grace? not so friend, honour and Lordship are my titles, what music is this?  man.. 
I do but partly know sir, it is music in parts.  Pan. 
Know you the musiciars?  man.. 
Wholly sir.  Pan. 
Who play they to?  man.. 
To the hearers sir.  Pan. 
At whose pleasure friend?  man.. 
At mine sir, and theirs that love music,  Pan. 
Command I mean:  man.. 
Who shall I command sir?  Pan. 
Friend we understand not one another, I am to courtly and thou to cunning, at whose request do these men play?  man.. 
That's to't indeed sir? marry sir, at the request of Paris my Lord, who is there in person, with him the mortal Venus, the heart blood of beauty, loves invisible soul:  Pan. 
Who my cousin Cressida,  man.. 
No sir, Helen, could not you find out that by her attributes.  Pan. 
It should seem fellow thou hast not seen the Lady Cressida I come to speak with Paris, from the Prince Troilus. I will make a complemental assault upon, him for my business seethes.  man.. 
Sodden business, their's a stewed phrase indeed.  Enter Paris and Hellen. Pan. 
Fair be to you my Lord, and to all this fair company, fair desires in all fair measure fairly guide them, especially to you fair Queen fair thoughts be your fair pillow.  Hel. 
Dear Lord you are full of fair words:  Pan. 
You speak your fair pleasure sweet Queen,  
Fair Prince here is good broken music.  Par. 
You have broke it cozen: and by my life you shall make it whole again, you shall piece it out with a piece of your performance.  Nel. 
he is full of harmony:  Pan: 
Truly Lady no:  Hell: 
O sir:  Pan: 
Rude in sooth, in good sooth very rude.  Paris: 
Well said my Lord, well, you say so in fits:  Pan. 
I have business to my Lord dear Queen? my Lord will you vouchsafe me a word.  Hel. 
Nay this shall not hedge us out, we'll hear you sing certainly:  Pan: 
Well sweet Queen you are pleasant with me, but, marry thus my Lord my dear Lord, and most esteemed friend your brother Troilus.  Hel. 
My Lord Pandarus honey sweet Lord,  Pan. 
Go too sweet Queen, go to?  
Commends himself most affectionately to you.  Hel. 
You shall not bob us out of our melody,  
If you do our melancholy upon your head.  Pan. 
Sweet Queen, sweet Queen, that's a sweet Queen  
I faith—  Hel. 
And to make a sweet Lady sad is a sour offence.  Pan. 
Nay that shall not serve your turn, that shall it not in truth la? Nay I care not for such words, no, no. And my Lord he desires you that if the King cal for him at super. You will make his excuse.  Hel. 
My Lord Pandarus.  Pan. 
What says my sweet Queenem, y very very sweet Queen?  Par. 
What exploit's in hand, where sups he to night?  Hel. 
Nay but my Lord?  Pan 
What says my sweet Queen? my cousin will fall out with you.  Hel. 
You must not know where he sups.  Par. 
I'll lay my life with my disposer Cresseida.  Pan. 
No, no? no such matter you are wide, come your disposer is sick.  Par. 
Well i'll makes excuse?  Pan. 
I good my Lord, why should you say Cresseida, no, your disposers sick.  Par. 
I spy?  Pan. 
You spy? what do you spy? come, give me an instrument now sweet Queen:  Hel. 
Why this is kindly done?  Pan. 
My Niece is horribly in love with a thing you have sweet queen.  Hel. 
She shall have it my Lord, if it be not my Lord Paris.  Pand. 
He? ●o? she'll none of him, they two are tawine.  Hel. 
Falling in after falling out may make them three.  Pand. 
Come, come, I'll hear no more of this, I'll sing you a song now.  Hell: 
ay, I, prithee, now by my troth sweet lad thou haste a fine forehead.  Pand: 
I you may, you may.  Hell: 
Let thy song be love: this love will undo us all. Oh Cupid, Cupid, Cupid.  Pand: 
Love? I that it shall i'faith.  Par: 
I good now love, love, nothing but love.  Pand: 
Love, love, nothing but love, still love still more  
For o loves bow. Shoots Buck and Do.  
The shafts confound not that it wounds  
But ticles still the sore:  
These lovers cry, o● ho they die,  
Yet that which seems the wound to kill,  
Doth turn oh ho, to ha ha he,  
So dying love lives still,  
O ho a while, but ha ha ha,  
O ho groans out for ha ha ha— hay ho,  Hell: 
In love I faith to the very tip of the nose.  Par. 
He eats nothing but doves love, and that breeds hot blood, and hot blood begets hot thoughts, and hot thoughts beget hot deeds, and hot deeds is love.  Pand. 
Is this the generation of love: hot blood hot thoughts and hot deeds, why they are vipers, is love a generation of vipers:  
Sweet Lord whose a field to day?  Par: 
Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus', Anthenor, and all the gallantry of Troy. I would fain have armed to day, but my Nell would not have it so.  
How chance my brother Troilus went not?  Hell: 
He hangs the lip at something, you know all Lord Pandarus.  Pand: 
Not I honey sweet Queen, I long to hear how they sped to day:  
You'll remember your brother's excuse?  Par: 
To a hair.  Pand: 
Farewell sweet Queen.  Hell. 
Commend me to your niece.  Pand: 
I will sweet Queen.  Sound a retreat Par: 
Their come from the field: let vs to Priam's Hall  
To greet the warriors. Sweet Hellen I must woe you,  
To help v●-arme our Hector: his stubborn buckled  
With this your white enchanting fingers touched;  
Shall more obey then to the edge of steel▪  
Or force of Greekish sinews: you shall do more  
Than all the Hand Kings, disarm great Hector▪  Hell: 
'twil make us proud to be his servant Paris●  
Yea what he shall receive of us in duty,  
Gives us more palm in beauty than we have.  
Yea over shines ourself.  Par: 
Sweet above thought I love her?  Exeunt. Enter. Pandarus troilus, man. Pand: 
How now where's thy master, at my Cousin Cress●das?  Man: 
No sir stays for you to conduct him thither.  Pand: 
O here he comest how now, how now?  Troy: 
Sirrah walk off.  Pand: 
Have you seen my Cousin?  Troy: 
No Pandarus, I stalk about her dor●  
Like to a strange soul upon the Stygian banke●  
Staying for waftage. O be thou my Char●n.  
And give me swift transportance to these fields,  
Where I may wallow in the lily bed's  
Proposed for the deserver. O gentle Pander,  
From Cupids shoulder pluck his painted wings,  
And fly with me to Cressid.  Pand: 
Walk here ith'Orchard, Ile bring her strait▪  Troy: 
I am giddy; expectation whirls me round,  
Th'imaginary relish is so sweet,  
That it enchants my sense: what will it be  
When that the wa●ry palates ●aste indeed  
loves thrice repured Nectar? Death I fear me  
Sounding destruction, or some joy to fine,  
To subtle, potent, tuned to sharp in sweetness  
For the capacity of my ruder powers;  
I fear it much, and I do fear besides  
That I shall lose distinction in my joys  
As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps  
The enemy flying.  Pand. 
she's making her ready, she'll come strait, you must be witty now, she does so blush, and fetches her wind so short as if she were afraid with a spirit: I'll fetch her; it is the pretiiest villain, she fetches her breath as short as a new ●ane sparrow.  Troy: 
Even such a passion doth embrace my bosom,  
My heart beats thicker than a ●eauorous pulse,  
And all my powers do their bestowing loose  
Like vassalage at unwares encountering the eye of majesty.  Enter pand●r and Cressida▪ Pand. 
Come, come, what need you blush?  
Shames a baby; here she is now, swear the oaths now to her that you have sworn to me: what are you gone again, you must be watch●●re you be made ●ame, must you? come your ways come your ways, and you draw backward we'll put you i●h fills: why do you not speak to her. Come draw this curtain, and le's see your picture; alas the day? how loath you are to offend day light; and 'twere dark you'd close sooner: so so, rub on and kiss the mistress; how now a kiss in fee-farm: build there Carpenter▪ the air is sweet. Nay, you shall fight your hearts out ere I part you. The falcon, as the tercel: for all the ducks i●h river: go too, go too.  Troy: 
You have bereft me of all words Lady.  Pand: 
Words pay no debts; give her deeds: but she'll bereave you o'th' deeds too if she call your activity in question: what billing again: here's in witness whereof the parties interchangeably. Come in come in I'll go get a fire?  Cres. 
Will you walk in my Lord?  Troy. 
O Cressida how often have I wished me thus.  Cres. 
Wish● my Lord? the gods grant? O my Lord?  Troy. 
What should they grant? what makes this pretty abruption: what to cur●ou● dreg espies my sweet lady in the fountain of our love?  Cres. 
More dregs than water if my tears have eyes.  Troy. 
Fears make devils of Cherubins, they never see truly.  Cres. 
Blind fear that seeing reason leads, finds safer footing, then blind reason, stumbling without fear: to fear the worst oft cures the worse.  Troy. 
O let my Lady apprechend no fear,  
In all Cupids pageant there is presented no monster.  Cres. 
Nor nothing monstrous neither.  Troy. 
Nothing but our undertakings, when we vow 〈◊〉 weep seas, live in fire, eat rocks, ●ame Tigers, thinking it harder for our mistress to devise imposition enough then for us to undergo any difficulty imposed.—  
This the monstrosity in love Lady, that the will is infinite and the execution confined, that the desire is boundless, and the act a slave to limit.  Cres. 
They say all lovers swear more performance than they are able, and yet reserve an ability that they never perform: vowing more than the perfection of ten: and discharging less than the tenth part of one. They that have the voice of Lions, and the act of Hares are they not monsters?  Troy. 
Are there such: such are not we; Praise us as we are tasted, allow us as we prove: our head shall go bare till merit lover part no affection in reversion shall have a praise in present: we will not name desert before his birth, and being borne, his addition shall be humble: few words to fair faith. Troilus shall be such to Cressida, as what envy can say worst shall be a mock for his truth, and what truth can speak truest not truer than Troilus.  Cres. 
Will you walk in my Lord?  Pand. 
What blushing still, have you not done talking ye●●  Cres. 
Well Uncle what folly I commit I dedicate to you.  Pand. 
I thank you for that, if my Lord get a boy of you, you'll give him me: be true to my Lord, if he ●●inch chide me for it.  Troy: 
You know now your hostages, your uncles word and my firm faith.  Pand. 
Nay I'll give my word for her too: our kindred though they be long ere they be wooed▪ they are constant being won, they are burrs I can tell you, they'll stick where they are thrown.  Cres. 
Boldness comes to me now and brings me heart: Prince Troilus I have loved you night and day, for many weary months.  Troy: 
Why was my Cressida then so hard to wy●?  Cres: 
Hard to seem won: but I was won my Lord  
With the first glance; that ever pardon me  
If I confess much you will play the tyrant,  
I love you now, but till now not so much  
But I might master it; in faith I lie,  
My thoughts were like unbridled children groan  
Too headstrong for their mother: see we fools,  
Why have I blabbed: ●ho shall be ●rue to us  
When we a●e so unsecret to ourselves.  
But though I loved you well, I wooed you not,  
And yet good faith I wished myself a man;  
Or that we women had men's privilege  
Of speaking first. Sweet bid me hold my tongue,  
For in this rapture I shall surely speak  
The thing I shall repent: see see your silence  
Coming in dumbness, from my weakness draws  
My very soul of council. Stop my mouth.  Troy: 
And shall, albeit sweet music issues thence.  Pand. 
Pretty i'faith.  Cres. 
My Lord I do beseech you pardon me,  
'twas not my purpose thus to beg a kiss:  
I am ashamed; O Heavens what have I done ●  
For this time will I take my leave my Lord.  Troy: 
Your leave sweet Cressida:  Pan: 
Leave: and you take leave till to morrow morning.  Cres: 
Pray you content you.  Troy: 
What offends you Lady?  Cres: 
sir mine own company.  Troy: 
You cannot shun yourself.  Cres: 
Let me go and try:  
I have a kind of self recids with you:  
But an unkind self, that itself will leave,  
To be another's ●oole. I would be gone:  
Where is my wit? I know not what I speak,  Tro. 
Well know they what they speak, that speak so wisely,  Cres. 
Perchance my Lord I show more craft than love,  
And fell so roundly to a large confession.  
To angle for your thoughts, but you are wise,  
Or else you love not: for to be wise and love,  
Exceeds man's might that dwells with gods above,  Tro. 
O that I thought it could be in a woman.  
As if it can I will presume in you,  
To feed for age her lamp and flames of love.  
To keep her constancy in pligbt and youth.  
outliving beauties outward, with a mind,  
That doth renew swifter than blood decays,  
Or that persuasion could but thus convince me▪  
That my integrity and truth to you,  
Might be affronted with the match and weight,  
O● such a winnowed purity in love,  
How were I then uplifted! but alas,  
I am as true as truth's simplicity,  
And simpler than the infancy of truth.  Cres. 
In that i'll war with you,  Tro. 
Overtuous fight,  
When right with right wars who sha'be most right,  
True swains in love shall in the world to come  
Approve their truth by Troilus, when their times,  
Full of protest, of oath and big compare,  
Wants ●imele's truth tired with iteration.  
As true as steel, as plantage to the moon.  
As sun to day: as uncle to her mate,  
As Iron to Adamant: as Earth to th' Centre,  
After all comparisons of truth.  
(As truths anthentique author to be cited)  
As ●rue as Troilus, shall crown up the verse,  
And sancti●ie the numbers,  Cres. 
Prophet may you be,  
If I be fal●e or serve a hair from truth,  
When time is old or hath forgot itself,  
When water drops have worn the stones of Troy,  
And blind oblivion swallowed Cities up.  
And mighty states character-les are grated,  
To dusty nothing, yet let memory,  
From false to false among false maids in love,  
Upbraid my falcehood, when th'haue said as false,  
As air, as water, wind or sandy earth,  
As Fox to Lamb; or Wolfeto Heifers Calf,  
Pared to the Hind, or stepdame to her Son▪  
Yea let them say to stick the heart of falsehood,  
As false as Cressida.  Pand. 
Go to a bargain made, scale it, seal it i'll be the witness here I hold your hand, here my Cousins, if ever you prove false one, to another since I have taken such pain to bring you together let all pitiful goers between be called to the world's end after my name, call them all Panders, let all constant men be Troylusses all fal●e women Cressids, and all brokers between panders; say Amen.  Tro. 
Amen.  Cre. 
Amen▪  Pan. 
Amen.  
Whereupon I will show you a Chamber, which bed because it shall not speak of your pretty encounters press it to death; away.  Exeunt. 
And Cupid grant all tongue-tied maidens here,  
Bed, chamber, Pander to provide this gear.  Exit. Enter Ulysses, Diomedes, Nestor, Agamemnon, Chal●as. Cal 
Now Princes for the service I have done,  
Th'advantage of the time prompts me aloud,  
To call for recompense: appear it to mind,  
That through the sight I bear in things to love,  
I have abandoned Troy, left my possession,  
Incurred a traitors name, exposed myself,  
From certain and possessed conveniences,  
To doubtful fortunes sequestering from me all,  
That time acquaintance, custom and condition,  
Made ●ame, and most familiar to my nature:  
And here to do you service am become,  
As new into the world, strange, unacquainted.  
I do beseech you as in way of taste,  
To give me now a little benefit.  
Out of those many registered in promise,  
Which you say live to come in my behalves  Aga. 
What wouldst thou of 〈◊〉 Trojan? make demand?  Calc. 
You have a Trojan prisoner called Aut●●or▪  
Yesterday took, Troy holds him very dear.  
Of● have you (often have you thanks therefore)  
Desired my Cressida in right great exchange.  
Whom Troy hath still denied, but this Auth●●●r,  
I know is such a wrist in their affairs:  
That their nego●iations all must slack,  
Wan●ing his manage and they will almost,  
Give v●▪ a Prince of blood a Son of Prya●,  
In change of him. Let him be sent great Princes,  
And he shall buy my daughter: and her presence,  
Shall quite strike of all service I have done,  
In most accepted pain.  Aga. 
Let Diomedes bear him,  
And bring us Cressida hither, Calcas shall have  
What he requests of us▪ good Diomed  
Furnish you fairly for this interchange,  
Withal bring word If Hector will to morrow,  
Be answered in his challenge. Ajax is ready.  Di●. 
This shall I undertake, and 'tis a burden  
Which I am proud to bear.  Exit, Achilles and Patro stand in their scent. Vli. 
Achilles stands its entrance of his tent,  
Please it our general pass strangely by him:  
As if he were forgot, and princes all,  
●ay negligent and looke regard upon him,  
I will come last, 'tis like hele question me.  
Why such unpaulsive eyes are bend? why ●urnd on him,  
If so I have derision medicinable,  
To use between your strangeness and his pride,  
Which his own will shall have desire to drink▪  
It may do good, pride hath no other glass,  
To show itself but pride: for supple knees,  
Feed arrogance and are the proud man's fees,  Aga. 
we'll execute your purpose and put on,  
A form of strangeness as ●e 〈◊〉 along▪  
So do each Lord, and either greet him no●  
Or else disdainfully, which shall shake him more:  
Then if not looked on. I will lead the way.  Achil. 
What comes the general to speak with me?  
You know my mind I'll fight no more against Troy:  Aga. 
What says Achilles would he ought with us?  Nest. 
Would you my Lord ought with the general.  Achil. 
No.  Nest. 
Nothing my Lord:  Aga. 
The bets▪  Achil. 
Good day, good day:  Men. 
How do you? how do you?  Achil. 
What do's the C●●kould scorn me●  Ajax. 
How now Patroclus?  Achil. 
Good morrow Ajax?  Ajax. 
Ha:  Achil 
Good morrow.  Ajax. 
I and good next day too.  Exeunt. Ac●. 
What mean these fellows know they not Achilles?  Patro. 
They pass by strangely: they were used to bend,  
To send their smiles before them to Achilles:  
To come as humbly as they used to creep, to holy altars:  Achil. 
What am I poor of late?  
'tis certain, greatness once fallen out with fortune,  
Must fall out with men to, what the declined is,  
He shall as soon read in the eyes of others  
As feel in his own fall: for men like butterflies,  
Show not their mealy wings but to the Summer,  
And not a m m for being simply man,  
Hath any honour, but honour for those honours  
That are without him, as place, riches, and favour,  
Prizes of accident as oft as merit  
Which when they fall as being slippery standers,  
The love that leaned on them as slippery too,  
Doth one pluck down another, and together, die in the ●all,  
But 'tis not so with me,  
Fortune and I are friends, I do enjoy:  
At ample point all that I did possess,  
Save these men's looks, who do me thinks find out:  
Some thing not worth in me such rich beholding,  
As they have often given. Here is Ulysses  
I'll interrupt his reading, how now Ulysses?  Vliss. 
Now great Thetis Son.  Achil. 
What are you reading?  Vliss. 
A strange 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 owes but by reflections  
As when his virtues aiming upon others,  
Heat them and they retort that heat again.  
To the first givers.  Achil. 
This is not strange Ulysses,  
The beauty that is borne here in the face:  
The bearer knows not▪ but commends itself,  
To others eyes, nor doth the eye itself  
That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself  
Not going from itself: but eye to eye opposed,  
Sallutes each other, with each others form▪  
For speculation turns not to itself,  
Till it hath travelled and is married there?  
Where it may see itself: this is not strange at all.  Vliss. 
I do not strain at the position,  
It is familiar, but at the author's drift,  
Who in his circumstance expressly proo●es,  
That no man is the Lord of any thing:  
Though in and of him there be much consisting,  
Till he communicate his parts to others,  
Nor doth he of himself know them for aught:  
Till he behold them form in the applause.  
Where theyare extended: who like an arch reuerb'rate  
The voice again or like a gate of steel:  
fronting the Sun▪ receives and renders back  
His figure and his heat. I was much rap't i● this,  
And apprehended here immediately,  
Th'unknown Ajax, heavens what a man is there?  
A very horse, that has he knows not what  
Nature what things there are.  
Most object in regard, and dear in use,  
What things again most dear in the esteem:  
And poor in worth, now shall we see to morrow,  
An act that very chance doth throw upon him  
Ajax renowned? O heavens what some men do,  
While some men leave to do.  
How some men creep in skittish fortunes hall,  
Whiles others play the Idiots in her eyes,  
How one man eats into another's pride,  
While pride is fasting in his wantonness.  
To see these Grecian Lords, why even already:  
They clap the lubber Ajax on the shoulder  
As if his foot were one brave Hector's b●est,  
And great Troy shrieking.  Ach●ll. 
I do believe it,  
For they passed by me as misers do by beggars,  
Neither gave to me good word nor look:  
What are my deeds forgot?  Vliss. 
Time hath (my Lord) a wallet at his back,  
Wherein he puts alms for oblivion:  
A great sized monster of ingratitudes,  
Those scraps are good deeds passed,  
Which are devoured as fast as they are made,  
Forgot as soon as done, perseverance dear my Lord▪  
Keeps honour bright, to have done, is to hang▪  
Quite out of fashion like a ru●ty male,  
In monumental mockery? take the instant way,  
For honour travels in a strait so narrow:  
Where on but goes a breast, keep then the path  
For emulation hath a thousand Sons,  
That one by one pursue, if you give way,  
Or turn a side from the direct forth right:  
Like to an entered tie they all rush by,  
And leave you him, most, than what they do in present:  
Though less than yours in pass, must o'er top yours.  
For time is like a fashionable host,  
That slightly shakes his parting gu●st by th'hand,  
And with his arms outstretched as he would fly,  
Grasps in the comme●: the welcome ever smiles,  
And farewell goes out sighing. Let not virtue seek,  
Remuneration for the thing it was. For beauty, wit,  
High birth, vigour of bone, desert in services  
Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all,  
To envious and calumniati g●●me,  
One touch of nature makes the whole world kin,  
That all with one consent praise new-born ga●●es,  
Though they are made and moulded of things past,  
And go to dust, that is a little guilt,  
More laud than guilt o●e-dusted.  
The present eye praises the present object.  
Then marvel not ●hou great and complete man,  
That all the greeks begin to worship Ajax;  
Since things in mo●ion sooner catch the eye,  
That what stirs not. The ●rie went once on thee,  
And still it might, and yet it may again,  
If thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive,  
And case ●●y reputation in thy tent.  
Whose glorious deeds but in ●●ese fields of late,  
Made emulous missions 'mongst the gods themselves,  
And drove great Mars to faction.  Achil. 
Of this my privacy,  
I have strong reasons.  Vlis. 
But 'gainst your privacy,  
The reasons are more potent and heroical:  
'tis known Ach●●●es that you are in love  
With one of Priams daughters.  Achil. 
H●●? known.  Vlis. 
Is that a wonder:  
The providence th●●● in 〈…〉 ●,  
Knows almost every thing,  
Finds bo●●om in the uncomprehensive depth,  
Keeps place with thought and almost like the gods,  
Do thoughts unveil in their tumbe 〈◊〉  
There is a mystery (with whom relation  
Durst never meddle) in the soul of state,  
Which hath an operation more divine,  
Then breath or pen can give expressure to:  
All the commerce that you have had with Troy,  
As perfectly is ours, as yours my Lord,  
And better would it fit, Achilles' much,  
To throw down Hector then Polixena.  
But it must grieve young Pir●●s now at home,  
When fame shall in our islands sound her trump,  
And all the Greekish girls shall tripping sing,  
Great Hector's sister did Achilles win,  
But our great Ajax bravely beat down him:  
Farewell my Lord: I as your lover speak,  
The fool slides over the Ice that you should break.  Patr. 
To this effect Achilles have I moved you,  
A woman impudent and mannish grown,  
Is not more loathed than an effeminate man  
In time of action: I stand condemned for this  
They think my little stomach to the war,  
And your great love to me, restrains you thus,  
Sweet rouse yourself, and the weak wanton Cupid,  
Shall from your neck unloose his amorous fold,  
And like due drop from the Lion's mane,  
Be shook to air.  Ach. 
Shall Ajax fight with Hector.  Patro. 
I and perhaps receive much honour by him.  Achil. 
I see my reputation is at stake,  
My fame is shrewdly gored.  Patro. 
O then beware.  
Those wounds heal ill, that men do give themselves,  
Omission to do what is necessary.  
Seals a commission to a blank of danger,  
And danger like an ague subtly taints  
Even then when they sit idly in the sun.  Achil. 
Go call Thersites hither sweet Patroclus,  
I'll send the fool to Ajax, and desire him  
Tinu●●e the Trojan lords after the combat,  
To see us here unarmed. I have a woman's longing,  
An appe●tite that I am sick withal,  
To see great Hector in his weeds of peace,  
To talk with him, and to behold his visage,  
Even to my full of view. A labour saved.  Enter Thersites. Thersi. 
A wonder.  Achil. 
What?  Thersi. 
Ajax goes up and down the field ask for himself.  Achil. 
How so?  Thersi. 
He must fight singly to morrow with Hector, and is so prophetically proud of an heroical cudgeling, that ●e raves in saying nothing.  Achil. 
How can that be?  Thersi. 
Why a stalks up and down like a peacock, ● stride and a stand: ruminates like an host●sse, that hath no Arithmetic but her brain to set down her reckoning: bites his lip with a politic regard, as who should say there were wit in this head and ●woo'd out: and so there is. But it lies as coldly in him, 〈◊〉 fire in a sting, which will not show without knocking, the man's undone for ever, for if Hector break not his neck i'th' combat, he'll br●akt himself in vain glory. He knows not me. I said good morrow Ajax: And he replies thanks Agamemnon. What think you of this man that takes me for the General? he's grown a very land-fish languagelesse, a monster, a plague of opinion, a man may wear it on both sides like a leather jerkin.  Achil 
Thou must be my Ambassador Thersites.  Thersi. 
Who I: why he'll answer no body: he professes not answering, speaking is for beggars: he wears his tongue in's arms. I will put on his presence, let Patroclus make demands to me. You shall see the pageant of Ajax.  Achil. 
To him Patroclus, tell him I humbly desire the valiant Ajax, to invite the valorous Hector to come unarmed to my tent, and to procure safe-conduct for his person, of the mag●●animous and most illustrious six or seven times honoured Captain General of the army. Aga●●em●e●, do this.  Patro. 
jove bless great Ajax.  there's. 
Hum.  Patr. 
I come from the worthy Achilles.  there's. 
Ha?  Patr. 
Who most humbly desires ●you to invite Hector to his ●ent.  there's. 
Hum?  Patr. 
And to procure safe conduct from 〈◊〉.  there's. 
Agam●m●e●?  Patr. 
I my Lord.  there's. 
Ha?  Patr. 
What say you to't.  there's. 
God buy you with all my heart.  Patr. 
Your answer sir.  there's. 
If to morrow be a fair day, by a seven of the clock it will go one way or other, howsoever he shall pay for me ere he has me.  Patr. 
Your answer sir.  there's. 
Fare ye well with all my heart.  Achil. 
Why, but he is not in this tune, is he?  there's. 
No: but out of tune thus, What music will be i● him, when Hector has knocked out his brains, I know not. But I am sure none, unless the fiddler Apollo get his sinews to make Catlings on.  Achil. 
Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him strait.  there's. 
Let me hear another to his horse, for that's the more capable creature.  Achil. 
My mind is troubled like a fountain stirred,  
And I myself see not the bottom of it.  there's. 
Would the fountain of your mind were clear Against, that I might water an Ass at it, I had rather be a tick in a sheep, than such a valiant ignorance.  Enter at one door Ae●ea●, at another Paris, Deiphobus, Ant●m●r, Diomed the Grecian with torches. Paris. 
See ho? who is that there?  Deith. 
It is the Lord Aeneas.  Aene. 
Is the Prince there in person?  
Had I so good occasion to lie long  
As your prince Paris, nothing but heavenly business,  
Should rob my bed mate of my company.  Dio. 
That's my mind too? good morrow Lord Aene●●.  Paris. 
A valiant Greek Aene●● take his hand.  
Witness the process of your speech: wherein  
You ●old how Dyomed a whole week by days,  
Did haunt you in the fieed.  Aene. 
Health to you valiant sir,  
During all question of the gentle truce:  
But when I meet you armed, as black defiance,  
As heart can think or courage execute.  Diom. 
The one and other Diomedes embraces,  
Our bloods are now in calm, and so long health:  
lulled when contention, and occasion meet,  
By jove ●le play the hunter for thy life,  
With all my force, pursuit, and policy.  Aene. 
And ●hou shalt hunt a Lion that will fly,  
With his face backward, in human gentleness:  
Welcome to Troy, now by A●ch●ses life,  
Welcome indeed: by Venus hand I swear:  
No man alive can ●oue in such a sort,  
The thing he means to kill, more excellently.  Diom. 
We sympathize. 〈◊〉 let Aen●●● line  
(If to my sword his fate be not the glory)  
A thousand complete courses of the Sun,  
But in mine emulous honour let him die:  
With every joint a wound and that to morrow—▪  Aene. 
We know each other well?  Diom. 
We do and long to know each other worse.  Par. 
This is the most despiteful gentle greeting,  
The noblest hateful love that ere I heard of, what bus●●nesse  
Lord so early▪  Aene. 
I was sent for to the King? but why I know no●.  Par. 
His purpose meets you▪ 'twas to bring this Greek,  
To Calcho's house, and there to render him:  
For the enfreed Anthenor the fair Cressida,  
Let's have your company, or if you please,  
Hast there before us. I constantly believe,  
(Or rather call my thought a certain knowledge)  
My brother troilus ●●●ges there to night,  
Roof him and give him note of our approach▪  
With the whole quality wherefore:  
I fear we shall be much unwelcome.  Aeneas. 
That I assure you: Tr●yl●●h●d rather Troy were borne to Greece, then Cressied borne from Troy.  Paris. 
There is no help.  
The bitter disposition of the time will have it so:  
On Lord, we'll follow you.  Aeneas. 
Good morrow all.  Paris. 
And tell me noble Diomed, faith tell me true,  
Even in soul of sound good fellowship,  
Who in your thoughts, deserves fair Helen best,  
Myself, or Menelaus.  Diom. 
Both ●like▪  
He merits well to have her that doth seek her,  
Not making any scruple of her ●oyle,  
With such ● hell of pain, and world of charge.  
And you as well to keep her, that defend her,  
Not pallating the ●afte of her dishonour  
With such a costly loss of wealth and friends,  
He like a puling Cuckold would drink up,  
The legs and dregs of a flat tamed piece:  
You like a le●cher out of whorish loins,  
Are pleased to breed out your inheritors,  
Both merits poyzd, each weighs nor less nor more,  
But he as he, the heavier for a whore.  Paris. 
You are too bitter to your countrywoman▪  Diom. 
she's bitter to her country▪ hear me Paris,  
For every fal●e drop in her bawdy veins,  
A Grecians life hath 〈◊〉 for every scruple  
Of her contaminated cartion weight,  
A Trojan hath been slain. Since she could speak,  
She hath not given so many good words breath,  
As for her Greels and Trojans suff●ed death.  Paris. 
Fair Diomedes you do as chapmen do,  
Dispraise the thing that they d●●●●e to buy,  
But we in silence hold this virtue well,  
we'll not commend, what we intent to sell. here lies our way.  Exeunt. Enter Troilus and Cresseids. Troy. 
Dear, trouble not yourself, the morn is cold.  Cres. 
Then sweet my Lord i'll call mine uncle down,  
He shall unbolt the 〈◊〉  Troyl. 
Trouble him not.  
To bed to bed: sleep kill those printy eyes,  
And give as soft attachment to thy senses,  
As infants empty of all thought.  Cres. 
Good morrow then.  Troyl. 
prithee now to bed.  Cres. 
Are you a weary of me?  Troyl. 
O Cresseids! but that the busy day,  
Waked by the Lark hath rouzd the ribald Crows,  
And dreaming night will hide our joys no longer,  
I would not from thee.  Cres. 
Night hath been too brief.  Tro. 
Beshrew the witch I with venomous wight● she stai●●●  
As tediously as h●ll, But flies the grasps of love,  
With wings more momentary swift then thought,  
You will catch cold and curse me.  Cres. 
Prithee ●arry, you men will never tarry,  
O foolish Cresseid▪ I might have still held of,  
And then you would have tarried, Hark there's one up.  Pand 
What's all the door●● open here▪  Troyl. 
It is your uncle.  Cres. 
A pestilence on him: now will he be mocking:  
I shall have such a life.  Pand. 
How now, how now, how go maidenheads,  
hear you maid, where's my cousin Cresseid?  Cres. 
Go hang yourself▪ you n●ugh●y● mocking uncle▪  
You bring me to do— and th●●▪ you flouke me to.  Pand. 
To do what, to do what? let her say what,  
What have I brought you to do?  Cres. 
Come, come▪ ●eshr●w your heart, you'll ●●re be good, not suffer others.  Pand. 
Ha▪ ha: alas poor wretch: a poor chipochi●, hast not slept ●o night? would he not (a naughty man) let it sleep, a bugbear take him.  Cres. 
Did not I tell you? would he were 〈…〉 ●,  
Who's that 〈◊〉 door, good uncle go and s●e.  O●● kn●cks. 
My Lord, come you again into my chamber,  
You smile and mock me, as if I meant naughtily.  Troyl. 
Ha, ha.  Cres. 
Come you are deceived, I think of no such thing,  
How earnestly they knock, pray you come in.  Knock. 
I would not for half Troy have you seen here,  Exeunt. Pand. 
Who's there? what's the matter? will you beat down the door? How now, what's the matter?  Aene. 
Good morrow Lord, good morrow.  Pand. 
Who's there my Lord Aeneas: by my troth I knew you not: what news with you so early?  Aene. 
Is not Prince Troilus here?  Pand. 
Here, what should he do here?  Aene. 
Come he is here, my Lord, do not deny him,  
It doth import him much to speak with me.  Pan. 
Is he here say you▪ its more than I know i'll be sworn For my own part I came in late: what should he do here?  Aene. 
Who, nay then! Come▪ come, you'll do him wrong ere you are ware, you'll be so true to him, ●o be false to him: Do not you know of him, but yet go fetch him hither, go.  Troyl. 
How now, what's the matter?  Aene. 
My Lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you,  
My matter is so rash: there is at hand,  
Parish your brother, and Deiphobus,  
The Grecian Diomedes, and our Antenor  
Delivered to him, and forthwith,  
Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour,  
We must give up to Diomedes hand  
The Lady Cresseida▪  Troyl. 
Is it so concluded?  Aene. 
By Priam and the general state of Troy,  
They are at hand, and ready to effect ●t.  Troyl. 
How my atchiuement● mock me▪  
I will go meet them: and my Lord Aeneas,  
We met by chance, you did not find me here.  Aen 
Good, good, my lord, the secrets of neighbour Pand●  
Have not more gift in taciturnity.  Exeunt. Pand. 
Is't possible: no sooner got but lost, the devil ●ake Antenor, the young Prince will go ●●adde, a plague upon Antenor. I would they had brok's neck.  Enter Cress. 
How now? what'● the matter? who was here?  Pand. 
Ah, ah!  Cres. 
Why sigh you so profoundly, where's my Lord? gone? tell me sweet Uncle, what's the matter.  Pan. 
Would I were as deep under the earth as I am above.  Cres. 
O the Gods, what's the matter?  Pand. 
Pray thee get thee in: would thou hadst near been bo●●e, I knew thou wouldst be his death. O poor Gentleman, a plague upon Anthenor.  Cres. 
Good uncle; I beseech you on my knees, what's the matter?  Pand. 
Thou must be gone wench, thou must be gone: thou art changed for Antenor. Thou must to thy father and be gone from troilus, 'twill be his death, 'twill be his bane, he cannot bear it.  Cres. 
O you immortal Gods, I will not go.  Pand. 
Thou must.  Cres. 
I will not uncle. I have forgot my father,  
I know no touch of consanguinity,  
No kin, no love, no blood, ●o soul so near me  
As the sweet Troilus. O you gods divine,  
Make Cresseids name the very crown of falsehood,  
If ever she leave Troyl●●. Time, force and death,  
Do to this body what extremes you can:  
But the strong base, and building of my love,  
Is as the very centre of the earth,  
Drawing all things to it. I'll go in and weep.  Pand. 
Do, do.  Cres. 
Tea●e my bright hair, & scratch my praised cheeks,  
Crack my clear voice with sobs, and break my heart,  
With sounding troilus: I will not go from Troy.  Enter Paris, Troyl. Aeneas, Deiphob, A●th. Diomedes. Par. 
It is great morning, and the hour prefixed,  
For her delivery to this valiant Greek,  
Comes fast upon: good my brother troilus  
Tell you the Lady what she is to do,  
And hast her to the purpose.  Troy. 
Walk into her house,  
I'll bring her to the Grecian presently:  
And to his hand when I deliver her,  
Think it an altar, and thy brother Troilus  
A priest there offering ●o it his own heart.  Paris. 
I know what 'tis to love,  
And would, as I shall pity I could help:  
Please you walk in my Lords?  Exeunt. Enter Pandarus and Cresseida. Pan: 
Be moderate, be moderate.  Cress. 
Why tell you me of moderation?  
The grief i● fine, full, perfect that I taste;  
And violenteth in a sense as strong  
As that which causeth it, how can I moderate it?  
If I could temporize with my affections,  
Or brew it to a weak and colder palate,  
The like alayment could I give my grief:  
My love admits no qualifiing dross,  
No more my grief in such a precious loss.  Enter Troilus. Pan. 
Here, here, here he comes, a sweet ducks.  Cres. 
Oh Troilus, Troilus.  Pan. 
What a pair of spectacles is here, let me embrace too, Oh heart, as the goodly saying is, Oh heart, heavy heart, why sighest thou without breaking: where he answers again, because thou canst not ease thy smart by friendship nor by speaking: there was never a 〈◊〉 ●ime. Let us cast away nothing, for we may live to have need of such a verse, We see it, we see it, how now lambs?  Troy. 
Cressida I love thee in so strained a purity,  
That the blessed Gods as angry with my fancy:  
More bright in zeal then the devotion, which  
Cold lips blow ●o their di●●ies, take thee from me.  Cres. 
Have the God's envy?  Pan 
ay, I, I, I, 'tis to plain a case.  Cres. 
And is it true that I must go from Troy?  Troy. 
A hateful truth.  Cres. 
What and from Troilus to?  Troy. 
From Troy, and Troilus▪  Cress. 
Is't possible?  Troy. 
And suddenly, where injury of chance  
Pu●s back, leave taking▪ iussles roughly by:  
All time of pause: rudely beguiles our lips  
Of all rejoindure: forcibly preuent●  
Our locked embras●●es, strangles our dear vows,  
even in the birth of our own labouring breath:  
We two that with so many thousand sighs,  
Did buy each other, must poorly sell ourselves:  
With the rude brevity, and discharge of one,  
Injurious time now with a robbers haste,  
Cra●●'s his ●itch thee●'ry up he knows not how.  
As many farewells as be stars in heaven.  
With distinct breath, and consignde kisses to them▪  
He fumbles up into a loose adieu:  
And ska●ts us with a single famished kiss,  
Distasted with the salt of broken tears.  Aeneas 
within. My Lord is the ●ady ready?  Troy. 
Hark, you are called, some say the Geni●●  
Cries so to him that instantly must die,  
Bid them have patience she shall come anon.  Pan. 
Where are my tears rain to lay this wind, or my heart willbe blown up by my throat.  Cress. 
I must then to the Grecians.  Troy. 
No remedy?  Cress. 
A woeful Cressida 'mongst the merry greeks,  
When shall we see again.  Troy. 
Here me love? be thou but true of heart.  Cres. 
I true? how now? what wicked dame is this?  Troy. 
Nay we must use expostulation kindly,  
For it is parting from us.  
I speak not be thou true as fearing thee.  
For I will throw my glove to death himself,  
That there is no maculation in thy heart:  
But be thou true say I to fashion in▪  
My sequent protestation; be ●hou true, and I will ●ee thee.  Cres. 
Oh you shallbe exposed my Lord to dangers,  
As infinite as imminent; but i'll be ●rue,  Troy. 
And i'll grow friend with danger, were this sleeve.  Cres. 
And you this glove, when shall I see you?  Troy. 
I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels,  
To give thee nightly visitation, but yet be true.  Cres. 
Oh Heavens be true again?  Troy. 
Here why I speak it loud,  
The Grecian youths are full of quality,  
And swelling over with arts and excercise:  
How novelty may move, and parts with portion,  
Alas a kind of Godly jealousy,  
(Which I beseech you call a vert●ous sin,)  
Makes me a feared.  Cres. 
Oh heavens you love me not!  Troy. 
Die I a villain then,  
In this I do not call your faith in question:  
So mainly as my merit. I cannot sing  
Nor heel the high la●o●t, nor sweeten talk,  
Nor play at subtle games, fair virtues all:  
To which the Grecians are most prompt and preg●ane▪  
But I can tell that in each grace of these▪  
There lurks a still, and dumb-discours●●e devil  
That tempts most cunningly, but be not tempted.  Cres. 
Do you think I will?  Troy. 
No, but something may be done that we will not,  
And sometimes wear devils to ourselves:  
When we will tempt the frail●y of our powers,  
Presuming on their changeful potency.  Aeneas 
within. Nay good my Lord?  Troy. 
Come kiss, and let us part.  Paris 
within. Brother Troilus?  Troy. 
Good brother come you hither?  
And bring Aeneas and the Grecian with you▪  Cres. 
My Lord will you be true?  Troy. 
Who I, alas it is my vice, my fault,  
Whiles others fish with craft for great opinion,  
I with great truth catch mere simplicity,  
Whilst ●ome with cunning gild their copper crowns,  
With truth and plainness I do were mine bare:  
Fear not my truth, the moral of my wit,  
Is plain and true? there's all the reach of it,  
Welcome sir Diomedes, here is the Lady,  
Which for Antenor we deliver you.  
At the port (Lord) I'll give her to thy hand,  
And by the way possess thee what she is  
Entreat her fair, and by my soul fair Greek,  
If ere thou stand at mercy of my sword:  
Name Cressid, and thy life shallbe as safe,  
As Priam is in Illium?  Diom. 
Fair Lady Cressida,  
So please you save the thanks this Prince expects:  
The lustre in your eye, heaven in your cheek,  
Pleads your fair usage, and to Diomedes,  
You shallbe mistress, and command him wholly.  Troy. 
Grecian thou dost not use me courteously,  
To shame the seal of my petition to thee:  
In praising her. I tell thee Lord of Greece,  
She is as far high soaring o'er thy praises:  
As thou unworthy to be called her servant,  
I charge thee use her well, even for my charge:  
For by the dreadful Pluto, if thou dost not,  
Though the great bulk Achilles be thy guard,  
I'll cut thy throat.  Diom. 
Oh be not moved Prince Troilus,  
Let me be privileged by my place and message:  
To be a speaker free? when I am hence,  
I'll answer to my lust, and know you Lord  
I'll nothing do on charge, to her own worth,  
She shallbe prized: but that you say be't so,  
I speak it in my spirit and honour no.  Troy. 
Come to the port I'll ●el thee Diomedes,  
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.  Paris. 
Hark Hector's trumpet?  Aene. 
How have we spent this morning?  
The Prince must think me ●ardy ●nd remiss,  
That swore to ride before him to the field,  Par. 
'tis Troilus fault, come, come, to field with him.  Exeu. Enter Ajax armed, Achilles', Patroclus', Agam▪ Menelaus, Ulysses, Nester, Calcas. etc. Aga. 
Here 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 the appalled air,  
May pierce the head of the great Combatant, and hale him hither.  Ajax. 
Thou, trumpet, there's my purse,  
Now crack thy lungs, and split thy brazen pipe:  
Blow villain, till thy sphered Bias cheek,  
Outswell the colic of puffed Aquilo●,  
Come stretch thy chest, and let thy eyes spout blood:  
Thou blowest for Hector.  uliss 
No trumpet answers.  Achil. 
'tis but early days.  Aga. 
Is not yond Diomedes with Calcas daughter.  Vliss. 
'tis he, I ken the manner of his ga●e,  
He rises on the too: that spirit of his  
In aspiration lifts him from the earth.  Aga. 
Is this the Lady Cressida?  Diom 
Even she.  Aga. 
Most dearly welcome to the greeks sweet Lady.  Nest. 
Our general doth salute you with a kiss.  Vliss. 
Yet is the kindness but particular, 'twere better she were kis● in general.  Nest. 
And very courtly counsel. I'll begin: so much for Nestor.  Achil. 
I'll take that winter from your lips fair Lady,  
Achilles bids you welcome.  Men. 
I had good argument for kissing once.  Patro. 
But that's no argument for kissing now,  
For thus popped Paris in his hardiment,  
And parted thus, you and your argument.  Vliss. 
Oh deadly gall and theme of all our scomes,  
For which we lose our heads to gild his homes.  Patro. 
The first was ●ward● kiss this mine,  
Patrolus kisses you.  Mene. 
Oh this is trim.  Patr. 
Paris and I kiss evermore for him.  Mene. 
I'll have my kiss sir? Lady by your leave.  Cres. 
In kissing do you render or receive.  Patr. 
Both take and give.  Cres. 
I'll make my match to live,  
The kiss you take is better than you give: therefore no kiss.  Mene. 
I'll give you boot, i'll give you three for one.  Cres. 
You are an odd man give even or give none.  Mene. 
An odd man Lady, every man is odd.  Cres. 
No Paris is nor, for you know 'tis true,  
That you are odd and he is even with you.  Mene. 
You fillip me a'th' head.  Cres. 
No i'll be sworne.  Vliss. 
It were no match, your nail against his horn,  
May I sweet Lady beg a kiss of you.  Cres. 
You may.  Vliss. 
I do desire it.  Cres. 
Why beg then.  Vlis. 
Why then for Venus' sake give me a kiss▪  
When Helen is a maid again and his—  Cres. 
I am your debtor, claim it when 'tis due.  Vlis. 
Nevers my day, and then a kiss of you.  Diom. 
Lady a word, i'll bring you to your father.  Nest. 
A woman of quick sense.  Vliss. 
Fie, fie upon her,  
Ther●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 encounrerers so glib of tongue,  
That give a coasting welcome eroit comes,  
And wide unclapse the tables of their thoughts,  
To every ticklish reader, set them down,  
For sluttish spoils of opportunity:  
And daughters of the game.  Flourish enter all of Troy. All. 
The Trojans trumpet.  Agam. 
Yonder comes the troop.  Aene. 
Hail all the state of Greece: what shallbe done,  
To him that victory commands, or do you purpose,  
A victor shallbe known, will you the knights  
Shall to the edge of all extremity  
Pursue each other, or shall they be divided,  
By any voice or order of the field, Hector bade ask?  Aga. 
Which way would Hector have it?  Aene. 
He cares not, he'll obey conditions.  Aga: 
'tis done like Hector, but securely done,  
A little proudly, and great deal misprising:  
The knight opposed.  Aene. 
If not Achilles' sir, what is your name?  Achil. 
If not Achilles nothing:  Even: 
Therefore Achilles, but what ere know this,  
In the extremity of great and little:  
Valour and pride excel themselves in Hector  
The one almost as infinite as all,  
The other blank as nothing, way him well.  
And that which looks like pride is courtesy,  
This Ajax is half made of Hector's blood,  
In love whereof, half Hector stays at home,  
Half heart, half hand, half Hector comes to seek:  
This blended knight half Trojan, and half Greek.  Achil. 
A maiden battle then, Oh I perceive you.  Aga. 
Here is sir Diomedes? go gentle knight,  
Stand by our Ajax. As you and Lord Aeneas'  
Conse●t upon the order of their fight,  
So be it, either to the uttermost,  
Or else a breath, the combatants being kin,  
Half stints their strife, before their strokes begin.  
Ulysses: what Trojan is that same that looks so heavy?  Vlis. 
The youngest son of Priam, a true knight,  
Not yet mature, yet matchless firm of word,  
Speaking deeds, and deedless in his tongue,  
Not soon provoked nor being 〈◊〉 soon calmed,  
His heart and hand both open and both free.  
For what he has he gives, what thinks he shows,  
Yet gives he not till judgement guide his bounty,  
Nor dignifies an impair thought with breath;  
Manly as Hector, but more dangerous,  
For Hector in his blaze of wrath subscribes  
To tender objects, but he in heat of action,  
Is more vindicative than jealous love.  
They call him Troilus, and on him erect,  
A second hope as fairly built as Hector:  
Thus says Aeneas ou● that knows the youth,  
Even to his inches: and with private soul  
Did in great Illium thus translate him to me.  Alaruns. Aga. 
They are in action.  Nest. 
Now Ajax hold thine own.  Troy. 
Hector thou sleepest awake thee.  Aga. 
His blows 〈◊〉 well: dispoed, there Ajax.  trumpet's cease. Diom. 
You must no more.  Aene. 
Princes enough so please you.  Ajax. 
I am not warm yet, let us fight again.  Diom. 
As Hector pleases.  Hect. 
Why then will I no more,  
Thou art great Lord my father's sister's Son,  
A cousin german to great Prianss feed,  
The obligation of our blood for bids,  
A gory emulation twixt us twain:  
Were thy 〈◊〉 Greek and Trojan so,  
That thou couldst say this hand is Grecian all:  
And this is Trojan, the sinews of this leg  
All Greek, and this all Troy: my mother's blood,  
Runs on the dexter cheek, and this sinister  
Bounds in my fathers. By love multipotent  
Thou shouldst not bear from me a Greekish member,  
Wherein my sword had not impressure made.  
But the just Gods gainsay,  
That any day thou borrowd'st from thy mother,  
My sacred Aunt, should by my mortal sword,  
Be drained. Let me embrace thee Ajax:  
By him that thunders thou hast lusty aims,  
Hector would have them fall upon him thus.  
Cozen all honour to thee.  Ajax. 
I thank thee Hector,  
Thou art to gentle, and too free a man,  
I came to kill thee cozen, and bear hence,  
A great addition earned in thy death▪  Hect. 
Not Neoptslymus so mirable,  
On whose bright crest, fame with her loud'st (O yes)  
Cries, this is he, could promise to himself,  
A thought of added honour, torn from Hector.  Aene. 
There is expectance here from both the sides,  
What further you will do.  Hect. 
we'll answer it,  
The issue is embracement, Ajax farewell.  Ajax. 
If I might in entreaties find success,  
As seld I have the chance, I would desire,  
My famous cousin to our Grecian tents.  Diom. 
'tis Agamemnon's wish, and great Achilles  
Doth long to see unarmed the valiant Hector.  Hect. 
Aeneas call my brother Troilus to me.  
And signify this loving interview  
To the expectors of our Trojan part,  
Desire them home. Give me thy hand my Cozen.  
I will go eat with thee, and see your Knights  Ajax. 
Great Agamemnon comes to meet us here.  Hect. 
The worthiest of them, tell me name by name:  
But for Achilles my own searching eyes,  
Shall find him by his large and portly size.  Agam. 
Worthy all arms as welcome as to one,  
That would be rid of such an enemy.  
From heart of very heart, great Hector welcome.  Hect. 
I thank thee most imperious Agamemnon.  Agam. 
My well-famed Lord of Troy, no less to you.  Mene. 
Let me confirm my princely brother's greeting:  
You brace of warlike brothers: welcome hither.  Hect. 
Who must we answer?  Aene. 
The noble Menelaus.  Hect. 
O you my Lord, by Mars his gauntlet thanks,  
(Mock not thy affect, the untraded earth)  
Your quandrm wife swears still by Venus' glove,  
she's well, but bade me not commend her to you.  Men. 
Name her not now sir, she's a deadly theme.  Hect. 
O pardon, I offend.  Nest. 
I have thou gallant Trojan seen thee oft,  
Labouring for destiny, make cruel way,  
Through ranks of Greekish youth, and I have seen thee  
As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed,  
Despising many forfeits and subduements,  
When thou hast hung th'advanced sword ith'ayre,  
Not letting it decline on the declined,  
That I have said to some my standers by,  
Lo jupiter is yonder dealing life.  
And I have seen thee pause, and take thy breath,  
When that a ring of greeks have shrupd thee in,  
Like an Olympian wrestling. This have I seen,  
But this thy countenance still locked in steel,  
I never saw till now: I knew thy grand-fire,  
And once fought with him, he was a soldier good,  
But by great Mars the Captain of us all,  
Never like thee: O let an old man embrace thee,  
And worthy warrior welcome to our tents.  Aene. 
'tis the old Nestor.  Hect. 
Let me embrace thee good old Chronide,  
That hast so long walked hand in hand with time,  
Most reverend Nestor, I am glad to clasp thee.  Nest. 
I would my arms could match thee in contention.  Hect. 
I would they could.  Nest. 
Ha? by this white beard I'd fight with thee to morrow.  
Well, welcome, welcome, I have seen the time.  Vlis. 
I wonder now how yonder City stands,  
When we have here her base and pillar by us?  Hect. 
I know your favour lord Ulysses well,  
Ah sir, there's many a Greek and Trojan dead,  
Since first I saw self and Diomedes,  
In Illium on your Greekish embassy.  Vlis. 
Sir I foretold you then what would ensue,  
My prophecy is but half his journey yet,  
For yonder walls that pertly front your town,  
You towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds,  
Must kiss their own feet.  Hect. 
I must not believe you.  
There they stand yet, and modestly I think▪  
The fall of every Phrygian stone will cost,  
A drop of Greenshield an blood: the end crowns all,  
And that old common arbitrator Time, will one day end it.  Vlis. 
So to him we leave it.  
Most gentle and most va●ant Hector, welcome:  
After the General, I beseech you next  
To feast with me, and see me at my tent.  Achil. 
I shall forestall thee lord Ulysses thou:  
Now Hector I have fed mine eyes on thee, (by joint.  
I have with exact view perused thee Hector, & quoted joint by joint.  Hect. 
Is this Achilles?  Achil. 
I am Achilles.  Hect. 
Stand fair I pray thee, let me look on thee,  Achil. 
Behold thy fill.  Hect. 
Nay I have done already.  Achil. 
Thou art too brief, I will the second time,  
As I would buy thee, view thee limb by limb,  Hect. 
O like a book of sport thou'lt read me over:  
But there's more in me then thou,  
Why dost thou so oppress me with thine eye.  Achil. 
Tell me you heavens, in which part of his body  
Shall I destroy him: whether there, or there, or there,  
That I may give the local wound a name,  
And make distinct the very breach, whereout  
Hector's great spirit flew: answer me heavens.  Hect. 
It would discredit the blessed gods proud man,  
To answer such a question: stand again,  
Thinkst thou to catch my life so pleasantly,  
As to prenominate in nice conjecture,  
Where thou 〈◊〉 hit me dead.  Achil. 
I tell thee yea.  Hect. 
Wert thou an Oracle to tell me so,  
Ile not believe thee▪ Henceforth guard thee well,  
For I'll not kill thee there, nor there, no● there,  
But by the forge that stichied Mars his helm.  
I'll kill thee every where, yea over and over.  
You wisest Grecians, pardon me this brag,  
His insolence draws folly from my lips,  
But i'll endeavour deeds to match these words,  
Or may I never—  Ajax. 
Do not cha●e thee cozen.  
And you Achilles, let these threats alone,  
Till accident or purpose bring you to't,  
You may have every day enough of Hector,  
If you have stomach, The general state I fear,  
Can scarce entreat you to be odd with him.  Hect. 
I pray you let us see you in the field,  
We have had pelting wars since you refused, the Grecians cause.  Achil. 
Dost thou entreat me Hector?  
To morrow do I meet thee fell as death: to night all friends.  Hect. 
Thy hand upon that match.  Agam. 
First all you Peers of Greece, go to my ●ent,  
There in the full convive we: afterwards  
As Hector's leisure, and your bounties shall  
Concur together, severally entreat him  
To taste your bounties, let the trumpets blow,  
That this great soldier may his welcome know.  Exeunt. Troy. 
My Lord Ulysses, tell me I beseech you,  
In what place of the field doth Calcas keep.  Vlis. 
At Menelaus' tent, most princely Troilus:  
There Diomedes doth feast with him to night,  
Who neither looks upon the heaven nor earth,  
But gives all gaze, and bend of amorous view,  
On the fair Cresseid.  Troyl. 
Shall I sweet Lord be bound to you so much,  
After we part from 〈◊〉 tent,  
To bring me thither.  Vlis. 
You shall command me sir.  
But gentle tell me of what honour was  
This Cressids in Troy? had she no lover there  
That wails her absence?  Tro. 
O sir to such as boasting show their scars,  
A mock is due; will you walk on my Lord,  
She was beloved my Lord, she is, and doth,  
But still sweet love is food for fortune's tooth.  Exeunt. Enter Achilles and Patroclus. Ach. 
I'll heat his blood with greekish wine to night,  
Which with my Cemitar i'll cool to morrow,  
Patroclus let us feast him to the height  Pat. 
Here comes Thersites.  Enter Thersites. Ach. 
How now thou cur of envy.  
Thou crumly batch of nature what's the news?  The. 
Why thou picture of what thou seemest, and Idol,  
Of idiot w●rshippe●s▪ here's a letter for thee.  Ach. 
From whence fragment.  The. 
Why thou full dish of fool from Troy,  Pat. 
Who keeps the tent now.  The. 
The Surgeon's box or the patients wound.  Pat. 
Well said adversity, and what needs this tricks,  The. 
Prithee be silent box I profit not by thy talk,  
Thou art said to be Achilles' male varlet,  Pat. 
Male varlet you rogue what's that.  The. 
Why his masculine whore, now the ro'ten diseases of the south, the guts gripping ruptures: loads a gravel in the back, lethergies, could palsies, raw eyes, durtrott● livers, whissing lungs, bladders full of impostume, Sciaticas lime. kills i'th' palm, incurable bone-ache, and the riveled ●ee simple of the tetter, take and take again such preposterous discoveries.  Pat. 
Why thou damnable box of envy thou what means thou to curse thus.  The. 
do I curse thee.  Pat. 
Why no you ruinous but, you whoreson indistinguishable cur, no.  The. 
No why art thou then exasperate, thou idle immaterial skein● of sleive silk, thou green sacenet flap for a sore eye, thou toslell of a prodigals purse-thou ah how the poor world is pestered with such water flies, diminitives of nature.  Pat. 
Out gall.  Ther. 
Finch egg.  Achil. 
My sweet Patroclus I am thwarted quite,  
From my great purpose into morrows battle,  
Here is a letter from Queen 〈◊〉▪  
A token from her daughter my fair love  
Both taxing me, and gauging me to keep:  
An oath that I have sworn: I will not break it,  
Fall greeks, fail fame, honour or go or stay,  
My mayor vow lies here; this i'll obey,  
Come, come, Thersites help to trim my tent?  
This night in banqueting must all be spent, away Patroclus.  Ther. 
With to much blood, and to little brain, these two may run mad, but if with to much brain and to little blood they do i'll be a curer of madmen, her's Agamemnon, an honest fellow enough, and one that loves quails, but he has not so much brain as ear-wax, and the goodly transformation of Inpiter there, his be the Bull, the primitive starve, and oblique memorial of cuckold's, a thrifty shooing-horue in a chain at his bare leg, to what form but that he is, should wit larded with malice, and malice faced with wit, turn him to: to an Ass, were nothing he is both Ass and Ox to an Ox were nothing, her's both Ox and Ass, to be a day, a Moil, a Cat, a Fichooke, a Toad, a lizard, an Owl, a Puttock, or a Herring without a row. I would not care, but to be Menelaus I would conspire against destiny, ask me what I would be, if I were not Thersites, for I care not to be the Louse of a Lazar, so I were not Menelaus— heyday spirits and fires.  Enter Agam: Ulysses, Nest: and Diomedes with lights. Aga. 
We go wrong we go wrong.  Ajax. 
No, yonder 'tis there where we see the lights.  Hect. 
I trouble you.  Ajax. 
No not a whit:  Vlis. 
Here comes himself to guide you.  Achil. 
Welcome brave Hector, welcome Princes all.  Aga. 
So now fair Prince of Troy, I bid God night,  
Ajax commands the guard to tend on you.  Hect. 
Thanks and good night to the greeks general.  Mene. 
Good night my Lord.  Hect. 
Good night sweet Lord Menelaus.  Ther. 
Sweet draft, sweet quoth a, sweet sink, sweet sure.  Achil. 
Good night and welcome both to those that go or tarry.  Aga. 
Good night.  Exeunt Agam: Menelaus. Achil. 
Old Nectar tarries, and you to Diomed.  
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.  Vlis. 
Follow his torch, he goes to Calcas tent, i'll keep you company.  Troy. 
Sweet sir you honour me?  Hect. 
And so good night.  Achil. 
Come, come, enter my tent.  Exeunt. Ther. 
That same Diomede a false hearted rogue, a most unjust knave, I will no more trust him when he leers, than I will a serp●at when he hisses, he will spend his mouth and promise like brabbler the 〈◊〉, but when he performs, Astronomers forett●● it, is 〈◊〉, there will come some change, the Some borrowe● of the Moon when Diomedes keeps his word, I will rather leave to see Hector than not to dog him, they say he keeps a Trojan drab, and uses the traitor Calcas tent, I'll after— nothing but let cherry all incontinent varlets.  Enter Diomed. Dio. 
What are you up here 〈◊〉 speak?  Chal. 
Who calls?  Dio. 
〈◊〉, Chalc●s I think where's your daughter?  Cal. 
She comes to you.  Vlis. 
Stand, where the torch may not discever us.  Troy. 
Cressida comes forth to him.  Enter Cressida Dio. 
How now my charge.  Cres. 
Now my sweet guardian, hark a word with you.  Troy. 
Yea so samiliar?  Vlis. 
She will sing any man at first sight.  Ther. 
And any man may sing her, if he can take her Cliff, she's noted.  Dio. 
Will you remember?  Cal. 
Remember yes:  Dio: 
Nay but do then and let your mind be coupled with your words.  Troy. 
What shall she remember.  Vlis. 
Lift?  Cres. 
Sweet honey Greek tempt me no more to folly.  Ther: 
Roguery.  Dis. 
Naythen.  Cress: 
I'll tell you what.  Dio: 
Foyes, foe, come tell a pin you are forsworn.  Cres: 
In faith I cannot, what would you have me do?  Ther: 
A rugling trick to be secretly open,  Dio: 
What did you swear you would bestow on me?  Cres: 
I prithee do not hold me to mine oath,  
Bid me do any thing but that sweet Greek.  Dio: 
Good night.  Troy: 
Hold patience.  Vlis. 
How now Trojan.  Cres. 
Diomed.  Dio: 
No, no, good night I'll be your fool no more,  Troy: 
Thy better must,  Cres: 
Hark a word in your ear.  Troy: 
O plague and madness!  Vlis: 
You a●e moved Prince, let us depart I pray  
Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself  
To wrathful terms, this place is dangerous:  
The time right deadly, I beseech you go.  Troy: 
Behold I pray you.  Vlis: 
Now good my Lord go off.  
You flow to great destruction, come my Lord.  Troy: 
I prithee stay.  Vlis: 
You ●aue not patience, come.  Troy: 
I pray you stay; by hell, and all hell's torment▪  
I will not speak a word.  Dio: 
And so good night,  Cres: 
Nay but you part in anger▪  Troy: 
Doth that grieve thee, O withered truth.  Vlis▪ 
How now my Lord?  Troy: 
By love I will be patient.  Cres: 
Guardian? why Greek?  Dio: 
Foyes foe you palter.  Cres. 
In faith I do not, come hither once again.  Vlis: 
You shake my Lord at something, will you go. you will break out.  Troy. 
She strokes his cheek.  Vlis: 
Come, come.  Troy: 
Nay stay, by jove I will not speak a word,  
Therein between my will and all 〈◊〉  
A guard of patience, stay a little while,  Ther: 
How the devil Luxury with his fat rump and potato finger, tickles together; fry lechery fry.  Dio: 
Will you then?  Cres: 
In faith I will lo, never trust me else.  Dio: 
Give me some token for the surety of it.  Cres: 
I'll fetch you one.  Exit. Vlis: 
You have sworn patience:  Troy: 
Fear me not my Lord.  
I will not be myself, not have cognition  
Of what I feel, I am all pa●ience:  Enter Cress. Ther: 
Now the pledge, now, now, now.  Cres: 
here Diomedes keep this sleeve.  Troy: 
O beauty where is thy faith▪  Vlis: 
My Lord.  Troy: 
You look upon that sleeve behold it well,  
He loved me (oh false wench) giv't me again:  Dio: 
Whose waist?  Cres: 
It is no matter now I have't again.  
I will not meet with you to morrow night:  
I prithee Diomedes visit me no more.  Ther: 
Now she sharpens, well said Whetstone.  Dio: 
I shall have it.  Cres: 
What this?  Dio: 
I that.  Cres: 
O all you gods; O pretty pretty pledge!  
Thy master now lies thinking on his bed  
Of thee and me, and sighs, and takes my glove,  
And gives memorial dainty kisses to it, as I kiss thee.  Dio: 
Nay do not snatch it from me.  Cres: 
He that takes that doth take my heart withal.  Dio: 
I had your heart before, this follows it.  Troy: 
I did swear patience.  
You shall not have it Diomedes, faith you shall not,  
I'll give you something else.  Dio: 
I will have this, whose was it?  Cres: 
It is no matter.  Dio: 
Come tell me whose it was?  Cres. 
'twas on's that loved me better than you will,  
But now you have it take it.  Dio: 
Whose was it?  Cres: 
And by all Di●●as waiting women yond  
And by herself I will not tell you whose.  Dio: 
To morrow will I wear it on my Helm,  
And grieve his spirit that dares not challenge it.  Troy: 
Wert thou the devil, and worest it on thy horn,  
It should be challengd.  Cres: 
Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis past: and yet it is not.  
I will not keep my word.  Dio: 
Why then farewell, thou never shalt mock Diomedes again.  Cres: 
You shall not got: one cannot speak a word but it strait starts you.  Dio: 
I do not like this fooling.  Ther: 
Nor I by Pluto; but that that likes not you, pleases me best.  Dio: 
What shall I come? the hour—  Cres: 
I come; O jone: do come, I shall be plagued.  Dio: 
Farewell till then.  Cres: 
Good night, I prithee come:  
Troilus farewell, one eye yet looks on thee,  
But with my heart the other eye doth see,  
Ah poor cur sex, this fault in us I find,  
The error of our eye di●ects our mind,  
What error leads must err: O then conclude,  
" Minds swayed by eyes are full of turpitude.  Exit. Ther: 
A proof of strength, she could not publish more,  
Unless she said my 〈◊〉 is now turned whore.  Vlis: 
All's done my Lord.  Troy: 
It is.  Vlis: 
Why stay we there?  Troy: 
To make a● ecordation to my soul  
Of every syllable that here was spoke:  
But if I tell how these two did Court,  
Shall I not lie in publishing a truth,  
Sith yet there is a credence in my heart,  
An esperance so obstinately strong,  
That doth 〈◊〉, attest of eyes and ears,  
As if those organs were deceptions functions,  
Created only to calumniate. Was Cresseid here?  Vlis. 
I cannot conjure Trojan.  Troyl. 
She was not sure.  Vlis 
Most sure she was.  Troy, 
Why my negation hath no taste of madness.  Vlis. 
Nor mine my Lord: Cresseid was here but now.  Troyl. 
Let it not be believed for womanhood.  
Think we had mothers, do not give advantage  
To stub borne Critics apt without a theme  
For deptavation, to requare the general sex  
By Cresseids rule, Rather think this not Cresseid.  Vli. 
What hath she done Prince that can spoil our mothers.  Troyl. 
Nothing at all, unless that this were she.  Ther. 
Will a swagger himself out on's own eyes.  Troyl. 
This she, no this is Di●●eds Cresseida,  
If beauty have a soul this is not she:  
If souls guide vows, if vows be sanctimonies,  
If sanctimony be the god's delight:  
If there berule in unity itself,  
This was not she: O madness of discourse,  
That cause sets up with and against itself,  
By-found authority: where reason can revolt  
Without perdition, and loss assume all reason,  
Without revolt▪ This is and is not Cresseid,  
Within my foul there doth conduce a fight  
Of this strange nature, that a thing inseparat,  
Divides more wider than the sky and earth:  
And yet the spacious breadth of this division,  
Admits no orifex for a point as subtle,  
As Ariachra's broken woof to enter,  
Instance, O instance strong as Plu●●●s gates,  
Cresseid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven,  
Instance, O instance, strong as heaven itself,  
The bonds of heaven are slipped, dissolved and loosed,  
And with another knot find finger tied,  
The fractions of her faith, orts of her love.  
The fragments, scraps, the bits and greasy relics.  
Of her ore-eaten faith, are glven to Diomedes,  Vlis. 
May worthy Troilus be half attached  
With that which here his passion doth express?  Troy. 
I Greek, and that shall be divulged well  
In Characters as red as Mars his heart  
Inflamed with Venus: never did young man fancy  
With so eternal and so fixed a soul.  
Hark Greek, as much I do Cressida love,  
So much by weight, hate I her Diomedes:  
That sleeve is mine, that he'll bear on his Helm:  
Were it a Cask composed by Vuleans skill  
My sword should bite it: Not the dreadful spout  
Which Shipmen do the hurricano call,  
Constringd in Mass by the almighty sun  
Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptune's ear, in his descent,  
Then shall my prompted sword, ●alling on Diomed.  Thierry: 
he'll tickle it for his concupie.  Troy: 
O Cressida, O false Cressida, false, false, false:  
Let all untruths stand by thy stained name,  
And they'll seem glorious,  Vlis: 
O contain yourself;  
Your passion draws ears hither.  Enter Aeneas. Aene: 
I have been seeking you this hour my Lord:  
Hector by this is at ming him in Troy:  
Ajax your guard stays to conduct you home.  Troy: 
Have with you Prince: my courteous Lord adieu,  
Farewell revolted fair: and Diomedes  
Stand fast, and wear a Castle on thy head.  Vlis. 
I'll bring you to the gates.  Troy. 
Accept distracted thanks.  Exeunt Troyl. Eeneas and Ulysses. Ther. 
Would I could meet that rogue Diomedes I would croak like a Raven. I would bode, I would bode● Patroclus will give me any thing for the intelligence of this whore: the Parot will not do more for an almond than he for a commodious drab: Lechery, lechery, still wars and lechery, nothing else holds fashion. A burning devil take them.  Exit. Enter Hector and Andromache. And. 
When was my Lord so much ungently tempered,  
To stop his ears against admonishment:  
Unarm unarm, and do not fight to day.  Hect. 
You train me to offend you, get you in,  
By all the everlasting gods I'll go.  And. 
My dreams will sure prove ominous to the day.  Hect. 
No more I say.  Enter Cassandra. Cas. 
Where is my brother Hector?  And, 
Here sister, armed and bloody in intent,  
Consort with me in loud and dear petition,  
Pursue we him on knees: for I have dreamt  
Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night  
Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter.  Cass, 
O 'tis true.  Hect. 
Ho? bid my trumpet sound.  Cres. 
No notes of sally for the heavens sweet brother.  Hect. 
Begun I say, the gods have heard me swear.  Cas. 
The gods are dease to ho●●e and peevish vows,  
They are polluted offerings more abhorred,  
Then spotted livers in the sacrifice.  And. 
O be persuaded, do not count it holy,  
It is the purpose that makes strong the vow,  
But vows to every purpose must not hold:  
Unarm sweet Hector.  Hect, 
Hold you still I say,  
Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate:  
Life every man holds dear but the dear man,  
Holds honour far more precious dear than life,  Enter Troilus. 
How now young man, meanest thou to fight to day.  And. 
Cassandra call my father to persuade.  Exit Cassan. Hect. 
No faith young Troilus, doff thy harness youth,  
I am to day i'th' vain of chivalry,  
Let grow thy sinews till their knots be strong,  
And tempt not yet the brushes of the war.  
Unarm thee go, and doubt thou not brave boy,  
I'll stand to day for thee and me and Troy.  Troyl. 
Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you,  
Which better fits a Lion then a man.  Hector. 
What vice is that? good Troilus chide me for it.  Troyl. 
When many times the captive Grecian falls,  
Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword.  
You bid them rise and live.  Hect. 
O 'tis fair play.  Troyl. 
fools play by heaven Hector.  Hect. 
How now? how now?  Troyl. 
forth' love of all the gods  
Let's leave the Hermit Pity with our Mother,  
And when we have our armours buckled on,  
The venomed vengeance ride upon our swords,  
Spur them to ruthful work, rain them from ruth.  Hect. 
Fie savage, fie.  Troyl. 
Hector then 'tis wars.  Hect. 
Troilus I would not have you fight to day.  Troyl. 
Who should withhold me?  
Not ●ate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars,  
Beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire,  
Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees,  
Their eyes ore-galled with recourse of tears,  
Nor you my brother, with your true sword drawn,  
Opposed to hinder me, should stop my way,  Enter Priam and Cassandra. Cass. 
Lay hold upon him, Priam hold him fast,  
He is thy crutch: now if thou lose thy stay,  
Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee,  
Fall all together.  Priam. 
Come Hector, come, go back,  
Thy wife hath dreamt, thy mother hath had visions,  
Cassandra doth forcsee, and I myself,  
Am like a prophet suddenly enrapt,  
To tell thee that this day is ominous:  
Therefore come back.  Hec. 
Aeneas is a field,  
And I do stand, engaged to many greeks,  
Even in the faith of valour to appear,  
This morning to them.  Priam 
I but thou shalt not go.  Hec. 
I must not break my faith,  
You know me dutifall, therefore dear sir,  
Let me not shame respect, but give me leave  
To take that course by your consent and voice,  
Which you do here forbid me royal Priam.  Cass. 
O Priam yield not to him.  And. 
Do not dear father.  Hec. 
Andromache I am offended with you,  
Upon the love you bear me get you in.  Exit Androm. Troy. 
This foolish dreaming superstitious girl,  
Makes all these bo●ements.  Cas. 
O farewell dear Hector.  
Look how thou diest look how thy eye turns pale.  
Look how thy wounds do bleed at many vents,  
Hark how Troy roars, how Hecuba cries out,  
How poor Andromache shrils her dolours forth,  
Behold destruction, frenzy, and amazement,  
Like witlesle an iques one another meet,  
And all cric Hector, Hector's dead, O Hector.  Troyl. 
Away, away.  Cas. 
Farewell, yet soft: Hector I take my leave,  
Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive?  Hec. 
You are amazed my liege, at her exclaim,  
Go in and cheer the town,  
we'll forth and fight,  
Do deeds worth praise, and tell you them at night.  Priam. 
Farewell, the gods with safety stand about thee.  Alarum. Troyl. 
They are at it hark proud Diomedes believe.  
I come to lose my arm or win my sleeve.  Enter Pandarus. Pand. 
Do you here my 〈…〉 ●  Troyl. 
What now?  Pand. 
here's a letter come from yond poor girl.  Troy. 
Let me read,  Pand. 
A whoreson tisick, a whoreson rascally tisick, so troubles me, and the foolish fortune of this girl, and what one thing, what another, that I shall leave you one ath's days: and I have a rheum in mine eyes too, and such an ache in my bones, that unless a man were cursed I cannot tell what to think on't. What says she there?  Troy. 
Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart,  
Th'effect doth operate another way.  
Go wind to wind, there turn and change together:  
My love with words and errors still she feeds,  
But edi●ies another with her deeds.  Exeunt. Enter Thersites: excursi●●s. Thersi. 
Now they are clapper-clawing one another: I'll go look on, that dislembling abhomihable vatlet Diomedes, has go● that same scurnie dooting foolish knaves sleeve of Troy there in his helm. I would fain see them meet, that that same young Troy an ass that loves the whore there, might send that Greekish whoremasterly villain with the fleeve, back to the dissembling luxurious drab of a sleeveless arrant. ath' other side, the policy of those crafty swearing rascals; that stale old Mouse-eaten dry cheese Nestor: and that same dogge-foxe Ulysses, is not proved worth a Black-berry. They set me up in policy, that mongrill cur Ajax, against that dog of as bad a kind Achilles. And now is the curte Ajax, prouder than the cur Achilles, and will not arm to day. whereupon the Grecians began to proclaim barbarism, and policy grows into an ill opinion. Soft here comes sleeve & tother.  Troy. 
●●lye not, for shouldst th●● take the over Styx, I would sw●m after,  Diomed. 
Thou dost miseall re●●e,  
I do not 〈◊〉, but advantageous care,  
Withdrew me from the odds of multitude, have at thee?  Ther. 
Hold thy whore Grecian: now for thy whore Trojan,  
Now the sleeve, now the sleeve.  Enter Hector. Hect. 
What art Greek, art thou for Hector's match.  
Art thou of blood and honour.  Ther. 
No, no, I am a rascal, a scurvy railing knave, a very filthy rogue.  Hect. 
I do believe thee, live.  Ther. 
God a mercy, that thou wilt believe me, but a plague break thy neck— for frighting me: what's become of the wenching rogues? I think they have swallowed one another. I would laugh at that miracle— yet in a sort lechery eats itself, i'll seek them.  Exit. Enter Diomedes and S●ruant. Dio. 
Go go, my servant take thou Troilus horse,  
Present the fair steed to my Lady Cressida,  
Fellow commend my service to her beauty:  
Tell her I have chastised the amorous Trojan,  
And am her knight by proof.  Enter Agamemnon. man.. 
I go my Lord.  Aga. 
Renew, renew, the fierce Polidamas,  
Hath beat down Menon: bastard Margarelo●,  
Hath Doreus prisoner.  
And stands Colossus wise waving his beam,  
Upon the pashed corpses of the Kings:  
Epistropus and Cedus, Polixines is slain,  
A●phimacus and Thou deadly hurt,  
Patroclus ta'en or slain, and Palamedes  
Sore hurt and bruised, the dreadful Sagittary,  
Appalls our numbers, hast we Diomedes,  
To re-enforcement or we perish all.  Enter Nestor. Nest: 
Go bear Patroclus' body to Achilles,  
And bid the snail-paced Ajax arm for shame,  
There is a thousand Hectors in the field:  
Now here he fights on Galathe his horse,  
And there lacks work, anon he's there a foot  
And there they fly or die, like sealing skulls,  
Before the belching Whale, then is he yonder:  
And there the strawy greeks ripe for his edge  
Fall down before him like a mower's swath,  
Here, there and every where, he leaves and takes.  
Dext●●ty so ob aying appeute,  
That what he will he does, and does so much:  
That proof is called impossibility.  Enter Ulysses, Vliss. 
Oh courage, courage Princes, great Achilles,  
Is atming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengcance,  
Patroclus' wounds have roused his drowsy blood,  
Together with his mangled Myrmydons  
That noselesle, handless, hacked and chipped come to him.  
Crying on Hector, Ajax hath fit a friend,  
And ●oames at mouth, and he is armed and at it.  
Roa●ing for Troilus, who hath done to day,  
Mad and fantastic execution:  
Engaging and redeeming of himself  
With such a careless force, and forceless care,  
As if that lust in very spite of cunning, bade him win all.  Enter Ajax. 
Troilus, thou coward Troilus.  Exit, Dio. 
I there, there?  Nest: 
So, so we draw together.  Exit. Enter Achilles. Achil. 
Where is this Hector?  
Come, come, thou boy-queller show thy face,  
Know what it is to meet Achilles' angry  
Hector where's Hector I will none but Hector.  Exit. Enter, Ajax. 
Troilus thou coward Troilus show thy head.  Enter Diom. 
Troilus I say where's Troilus?  Ajax. 
What wouldst thou.  Diom. 
I would correct him.  Ajax. 
Were I the general thou shouldst have my office,  
Ere that correction? Troilus I say what Troilus.  Enter Troilus. Troy. 
Oh traitor Diomed, turn thy false face thou traitor,  
And pay thy life thou owest me for my horse.  Dio. 
Ha art thou there?  Ajax. 
I'll fight with him alone stand Diomed.  Diom. 
He is my prize, I will not look upon.  Troy. 
Come both you cogging greeks have at you both.  Hect. 
Yea Troilus, O well fought my youngest brother.  Enter Achil: 
Now do I see thee ha, have at thee Hector.  Hect. 
Pause if thou wilt.  Achil. 
I do disdain thy courtesy proud Trojan,  
Be happy that my arms are our of use:  
My rest and negligence befriends thee now,  
But thou anon shalt here of me again:  
Till when go seek thy fortune.  Exit. Hect. 
Fare thee well.  
I would have been much more a fresher man,  
Had I expected thee, how now my brother.  Enter Troyl: Troy. 
Ajax hath ta'en Aeneas, shall it be,  
No by the flame of yonder glorious heaven  
He shall not carry him i'll be tano●o,  
Or bring him off, fate hear me what I say:  
I wreak not though I end my life to day.  Exit. Enter one in armour. Hector: 
Stand, stand thou Greek, thou art a goodly mark,  
No? wilt thou not. I like thy armour we'll,  
I'll frush it and vn●oc●● the rinets all:  
But i'll be master of it, wilt thou not beast abide,  
Why then fly on, i'll hunt thee for thy hide.  Exit. Enter Achilles with Myrmidons. 
Come here about me you my Myrmidous,  
Mark what I say, attend me where I wheel:  
Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath,  
And when I have the bloody Hector found:  
Impale him with your weapons round about,  
In fellest manner execute your armes  
Follow me sirs and my proceedings eye,  
It is decreed Hector the great must die.  Exit. Enter Thersi: Me●●: Paris. Ther. 
The cuckolded and the cock-old-maker are at it, now bull, now dog low, Paris low, now my double hened spartan, low Paris, low the bull has the game, wait horns ho?  Exit Paris and Menelus. Enter Bastard Bast. 
Turn slain and fight.  Ther. 
What art thou?  Bast. 
A Bastard son of Priam's.  there's: 
I am a bastard too, I love bastards. I am bastard be. got, bastard instructed, bastard in mind, bastard in va● our, in every thing illegitimate, one bear will not bite another, and wherefore should one bastard? take heed, the quarrels most ominous to us, if the son of a whore ●ight for a whore, he tempts judgement, farewell bastard.  Bast. 
The devil take thee coward.  Exit. Enter Hector. Hect. 
Most putrefied core so fair without,  
Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life;  
Now is my days work done i'll take my breath▪  
Rest sword thou hast thy fill of blood and death.  Enter Achilles and Myrmidons. Achil: 
Look Hector how the Sun begins to set,  
How ugly night comes breathing at his heels  
Even with the vail and darkening of the Sun,  
To close the day up, Hector's life is done.  Hect. 
I am unarmed sorgee this vantage Greek.  Achil. 
Strike fellows ●rike, this is the ●an I seek,  
So Illium fall thou next, come Troy sink down,  
Here lles thy heart, thy sin was and thy bone.  
On Myrmydous, and cry you all amain,  
Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain,  Retreat: 
Hark a retire upon our Grecian prat.  One: 
The Trojans trumpet sound the like my Lord.  Achil: 
The dragon wing of night orespreds the earth,  
And stickler-like the aimies separates.  
My halse supped sword that frankly would have fed,  
Pleased with this dainty bake: thus goes to bed:  
Come tie his body to my horse's tail,  
Along the field I will the Trojan trail.  Exeunt: Enter Agam: Ajax, Meve: Nestee, Diom: and the rest m●●ching. Aga. 
Hark, hark, what is this?  Nest. 
Peace drums.  Sould: within. 
Achilles, Achilles, Hector's slain Achilles.  Dio. 
The bruit is Hector's slain and by Achilles.  Ajax. 
If it be so yet braglesse let it be,  
Great Hector was as good a man as he.  Aga. 
March patiently along: let one be sent,  
To pray Achilles see us at our tent:  
If in his death the Gods have us befriended.  
Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are ended.  Exeunt. Enter Aeneas, Paris, Antenor, Diephobus. Aene. 
Stand ho? yet are we masters of the field,  Enter Troilus. Troy. 
Never go home, here starve we out the night,  
Hector is slain.  All. 
Hector! the gods forbid.  Troy. 
he's dead and at the murderers horses tail,  
In beastly sort dragged through the shameful field:  
Frown on you heavens, effect your rage with speed,  
Sat gods upon you thrones, and smile at Troy.  
I say at once, let your breeze plagues be mercy,  
And linger not our sure destructions on.  Aene. 
My Lord you do discomfort all the host.  Troy. 
You understand me not that tell me so,  
I do not speak of flight, of fear of death  
But dare all immynence that gods and men  
Address their dangers in. Hector is gone:  
Who shall tell Priam so or Hecuba?  
Let him that will a scrich-ould aye be called,  
Go into Troy and say their Hector's dead,  
There is a word will Priam turn to stone,  
Make wells and Niebe's of the maids and wives:  
Could statues of the youth and in a word,  
scar Troy out of itself, there is no more to say,  
Stay yet you proud abominable tents:  
Thus proudly pitched upon our Phrygian plains,  
Let Titan rise as early as he dare;  
I'll through, and through you, and thou great sized coward,  
No space of earth shall sunder out two hates:  
I'll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still,  
That moulderth goblins swift as f●ienzes thoughts,  
Strike a free march, to Troy with comfort go  
Hope of revenge shall hide our ●●ward woe.  Enter Pandarus. Pan. 
But here you, here you.  Troy. 
Hence broker, lackey, ignomyny, shame,  
Pursue thy life, and hue aye with thy name.  Exeunt all but Pandarus. Pan. 
A goodly medicine for my ask bones, Oh world, world— thus is the poor agent despised, Oh traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you set a work, and how ill requited, why should our endeavour be so loved and the performance so loathed, what verse for it? What instance for it?  
Let me see,  
Full merrily the humble Bee doth sing,  
Till he hath lost his honey and his sting.  
And being once sub subdued in armed tail,  
Sweet honey, and sweet notes together fail.  
Good traiders in the flesh, set this in your painted clothes,  
As many as be here of Panders, 〈◊〉,  
Your eyes half out weep out at Panders fall.  
Or if you cannot weep yet give some groans,  
Though not for me yet for my aching bones:  
Brethren and sisters of the hold-ore trade,  
Some two months hence my will shall here be made▪  
It should be now but that my fear is this,  
Some gauled goose of Winchester would hiss.  
Till than i'll sweat and seek about for cases,  
And at that time bequeath you my diseases.  
FINIS.