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SCENE I.-Troy. A Street.

Enter at one side, ÆNEAS, and Servant with a
torch; at the other, PARIS, DEIPHOBUS, AN-
TENOR, DIOMEDES, and others, with torches.
Par. See, ho! who is that there?
Dei. It is the lord Æneas.

Ene. Is the prince there in person?—
Had I so good occasion to lie long
As you, prince Paris, nothing but heavenly business
Should rob my bed-mate of my company.

Dio. That's my mind too.—Good morrow, lord Æneas.

Par. A valiant Greek, Æneas; take his hand : Witness the process of your speech, wherein You told-how Diomed, a whole week by days, Did haunt you in the field.

Ene. 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.

Dio. The one and other Diomed embraces. Our bloods are now in calm; and so long, health: But when contention and occasion meet, By Jove! I'll play the hunter for thy life, With all my force, pursuit, and policy.

Ene. And thou shalt hunt a lion, that will fly With his face backward.—In humane gentleness, Welcome to Troy! Now, by Anchises' life, Welcome, indeed! By Venus' hand, I swear, No man alive can love, in such a sort, The thing he means to kill, more excellently.

Dio. We sympathise:-Jove, let Æneas live, 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! Ene. We know each other well.

Dio. We do: and long to know each other worse. Par. This is the most despiteful gentle greeting, The noblest hateful love, that e'er I heard of.— What business, lord, so early?

Ene. I was sent for to the king; but why, I know not.

Par. His purpose meets you; 't was to bring this Greek

To Calchas' house; and there to render him,
For the enfreed Antenor, the fair Cressid.
Let's have your company; or, if you please,
Haste there before us: I constantly do think
(Or rather call my thought a certain knowledge)
My brother Troilus lodges there to-night:
Rouse him, and give him note of our approach,
With the whole quality wherefore: I fear
We shall be much unwelcome.

Ene. That I assure you;
Troilus had rather Troy were borne to Greece,
Than Cressid borne from Troy.
There is no help;


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He merits well to have her, that doth seek her
(Not making any scruple of her soilure)
With such a hell of pain and world of charge;
And you as well to keep her, that defend her
(Not palating the taste of her dishonour)
With such a costly loss of wealth and friends:
He, like a puling cuckold, would drink up
The lees and dregs of a flat taméd piece;
You, like a lecher, out of whorish loins
Are pleased to breed out your inheritors:
Both merits poised, each weighs nor less nor more;
But he as he, the heavier for a whore.

Par. You are too bitter to your country woman.
Dio. She's bitter to her country: hear me, Paris :
every false drop in her bawdy veins
A Grecian's life hath sunk; for every scruple


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Pan. Ha, ha! Alas, poor wretch! a poor capocchia!-hast not slept to-night? would he not, a naughty man, let it sleep? A bugbear take him! [Knocking.

Cres. Did I not tell you?-'Would he were knocked o' the head!

Who's that at door? good uncle, go and see. My lord, come you again into my chamber: You smile, and mock me, as if I meant naughtily. Tro. Ha! ha!

Cres. Come, you are deceived; I think of no such thing. [Knocking. How earnestly they knock!-pray you, come in; I would not for half Troy have you seen here. [Exeunt TROILUS and CRESSIDA.

Pan. [going to the door]. Who's there? what's the matter? will you beat down the door? How now? what's the matter?

Enter ENEAS.

Ene. Good morrow, lord, good morrow. Pan. Who's there? my lord Æneas? By my troth, I knew you not: what news with you so early? Ene. Is not prince Troilus here?

Pan. Here! what should he do here? Ene. 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? 't is more than I know, I'll be sworn: for my own part, I came in late: What should he do here?

Ene. Who! nay, then :

Come, come, you'll do him wrong ere you are 'ware:
You'll be so true to him, to be false to him :
Do not you know of him, yet go fetch him hither;

AS PANDARUS is going out, enter TROILUS.
Tro. How now? what's the matter?
Ene. My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you,
My matter is so rash. There is at hand,
Paris your brother, and Deiphobus,
The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor,
Delivered to us; and for him, forthwith,
Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour,
We must give up to Diomédes' hand,
The lady Cressida.

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Ene. By Priam, and the general state of Troy: They are at hand, and ready to effect it.

Tro. How my achievements mock me!

I will go meet them: and, my lord Æneas,
We met by chance; you did not find me here.
Ene. Good, good, my lord; the secrets of nature
Have not more gift in taciturnity.

[Exeunt TROILUS and ENEAS. Pan. Is't possible? no sooner got but lost? The devil take Antenor! the young prince will

go mad. A plague upon Antenor! I would they had broke's neck.


Cres. How now? What is the matter? Who was here?

Pan. 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?

Pan. Pr'y thee, get thee in: 'would thou hadst ne'er been born! I knew thou wouldst be his death: O, poor gentleman! A plague upon Antenor!

Cres. Good uncle, I beseech you on my knees, I beseech you, what's the matter?

Pan. Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone; thou art changed for Antenor: thou must to thy father, and be gone from Troilus : 't will be his death; 't will be his bane; he cannot bear it.

Cres. O, you immortal gods!-I will not go. Pan. Thou must.

Cres. I will not, uncle. I have forgot my father; I know no touch of consanguinity; No kin, no love, no blood, no soul so near me, As the sweet Troilus.-O, you gods divine! Make Cressid's name the very crown of falsehood, If ever she leave Troilus! 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;— Pan. Do, do.

Cres. Tear my bright hair, and scratch my praised cheeks;

Crack my clear voice with sobs, and break my heart

With sounding Troilus. I will not go from Troy. [Exeunt.

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Think it an altar; and thy brother Troilus
A priest, there offering to it his own heart. [Exit.
Par. I know what 't is to love;

And 'would, as I shall pity, I could help !—
Please you, walk in, my lords. [Exeunt,

SCENE IV.-The same. A Room in PANDARUS'

Pan. Be moderate, be moderate.
Cres. Why tell you me of moderation?
The grief is 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 temporise with my affection,
Or brew it to a weak and colder palate,
The like allayment could I give my grief:
My love admits no qualifying dross:
No more my grief, in such a precious loss.


Pan. Here, here, here he comes.-Ah, sweet ducks!

Cres. O Troilus! Troilus! [Embracing him. Pan. What a pair of spectacles is here! Let me embrace too: "O heart,"-as the goodly saying is,

O heart, O heavy heart,

Why sigh'st thou without breaking? where he answers again,

Because thou canst not ease thy smart,

By friendship nor by speaking.

There never was a truer rhyme. 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?

Tro. Cressid, I love thee in so strained a purity, That the blest gods-as angry with my fancy, More bright in zeal than the devotion which Cold lips blow to their deities-take thee from me. Cres. Have the gods envy?

Pan. Ay, ay, ay, ay; 't is too plain a case. Cres. And is it true that I must go from Troy? Tro. A hateful truth.

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Injurious time now, with a robber's haste,
Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how:
As many farewells as be stars in heaven,
With distinct breath and consigned kisses to them,
He fumbles up into a loose adieu;
And scants us with a single famished kiss,
Distasted with the salt of broken tears.

Ene. [within]. My lord! is the lady ready?
Tro. Hark! you are called: Some say, the
Genius so

Cries "Come!" 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 will be blown up by the root! [Exit. Cres. I must then to the Grecians?

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Cres. A woful Cressid 'mongst the merry

When shall we see again?

Tro. Hear me, my love: Be thou but true of heart,―

Cres. I true! how now? what wicked deem is this?

Tro. 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's no maculation in thy heart:
But "Be thou true," say I, to fashion in
My sequent protestation: be thou true,
And I will see thee.

Cres. O, you shall be exposed, my lord, to dangers As infinite as imminent! but I'll be true.

Tro. And I'll grow friend with danger. Wear

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So please you, save the thanks this prince expects;
The lustre in your eye, heaven in your cheek,
Pleads your fair usage; and to Diomed
You shall be mistress, and command him wholly.
Tro. Grecian, thou dost not use me courteously,
To shame the zeal 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.

Dio. O, 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 shall be prized; but that you say "be 't so,"
I speak it in my spirit and honour-no.

Tro. Come, to the port.-I tell thee, Diomed, 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. [Exeunt TROILUS, CRESSIDA, and DIOMEDES. [Trumpet heard.

Par. Hark! Hector's trumpet. Ene. How have we spent this morning! The prince must think me tardy and remiss, That swore to ride before him to the field. Par. "T is Troilus' fault. Come, come, to field with him.

Dei. Let us make ready straight.

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

SCENE V.-The Grecian Camp. Lists set out. Enter AJAX, armed; AGAMEMNON, ACHILLES, PATROCLUS, MENELAUS, ULYSSES, NESTOR, and others.

Agam. 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 spheréd bias cheek Outswell the colick of puffed Aquilon :

Come, stretch thy chest, and let thy eyes spout blood:
Thou blow'st for Hector. [Trumpet sounds.

Ulys. No trumpet answers.

'Tis but early days.

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