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Mock not, that I affect the untraded cath;
Your quondam wife fwears still by Venus' glove:
She's well, but bade me not commend her to you.
Men. Name her not now, fir; the's a deadly

Het. O, pardon; I offend.

Neft. I have, thou gallant Trojan, feen thee oft,
Labouring for destiny, make cruel way [thee
Through ranks of Greekish youth: and I have seen
As hot as Perfeus, fpur thy Phrygian steed,
Delpifing many forfeits and fubduements,
When thou haft hung thy advanced sword i' the air,
Not letting it decline on the declin'd;
That I have faid to fome my standers-by,
Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life!

And I have feen thee paufe, and take thy breath,
When that a ring of Greeks have hemm'd thee in,
Like an Olympian wrestling: This have I feen;
But this thy countenance, ftill lock'd in still,
I never faw 'till now. I knew thy grandfire,
And once fought with him: he was a foldier good;
But, by great Mars, the captain of us all,
Never like thee: Let an old man embrace thee;
And, worthy warrior, welcome to our tents.
Ene. "Tis the old Neftor.

Het. Let me embrace thee, good old chronicle,
That haft fo long walk'd hand in hand with time :-
Moft reverend Neftor, I am glad to clafp thee.
Neft. I would, my arms could match thee in

As they contend with thee in courtesy.

Heft. I would they could.

Neft. Ha! by this white beard, I'd fight with thee to-morrow.


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Heet. Stand fair, I pray thee: let me look on
Achil. Behold thy fill.

He. Nay, I have done already.

Acbil. Thou art too brief; I will the second time, As I would buy thee, view thee limb by limb. Heč. O, like a book of sport thou'lt read me o'er ;

But there's more in me than thou understand'ft. 10 Why doft thou so oppress me with thine eye?

Acbil. Tell me, you heavens, in which part of his body [there? Shall I deftroy him? whether there, there, or That I may give the local wound a name; 15 And make diftinct the very breach whereout Hector's great fpirit flew: Answer me, heavens! He. It would difcredit the bleft gods, proud


To answer fuch a question: Stand again:
20 Think'ft thou to catch my life so pleasantly,
As to prenominate in nice conjecture,
Where thou wilt hit me dead?

Acbil. I tell thee, yea.

Heft. Wert thou an oracle to tell me fo,

25 I'd not believe thee. Henceforth guard thee well;
For I'll not kill thee there, nor there, nor there;
But, by the forge that ftithy'd Mars his helm,
I'll kill thee every where, yea, o'er and o'er.-
You wifeft Grecians, pardon me this brag,
30 His infolence draws folly from my lips;
But I'll endeavour deeds to match these words,
Or may I never-

Well, welcome, welcome! I have feen the time-35
Ulf. I wonder now how yonder city stands,
When we have here her bafe and pillar by us.
Heft. I know your favour, lord Ulyffes, well.
Ah, fir, there's many a Greek and Trojan dead,
Since first I saw yourself and Diomed
In Ilion, on your Greekith embaffy.

Ulyf. Sir, I foretold you then what would enfue:
My prophecy is but half his journey yet;
For yonder walls that pertly front your town,

Ajax. Do not chafe thee, coufin
And you, Achilles, let thefe threats alone,
Till accident, or purpose, bring you to 't:
You may have every day enough of Hector,
If you have ftomach; the general ftate, I fear,
Can fearce entreat you to be odd with him.

Heft. I pray you, let us fee you in the field: 4c We have had pelting wars, fince you refus'd The Grecians' cause.

Yon towers, whose wanton tops do bufs the clouds, 45
Muft kifs their own feet.

Heft. I must not believe you:

There they stand yet; and modeftly I think,
The fall of every Phrygian stone will coft

A drop of Grecian blood: The end crowns all;
And that old common arbitrator, time,
Will one day end it.

Ulyf. So to him we leave it.

Moft gentle, and most valiant Hector, welcome:
After the general, I befeech you next

To feaft with me, and fee me at my tent.

Acbil. Ifhall foreftall thee, lord Ulyffes, thou!-
Now, Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee;
I have with exact view perus'd thee, Hector,
And quoted joint by joint.

Heft. Is this Achilles?

Acbil. Doft thou entreat me, Hector?
To-morrow do I meet thee, fell as death;
To-night, all friends.

Hect. Thy hand upon that match.

Aga. First, all you peers of Greece, go to my tent;
There in the full convive we: afterwards,
As Hector's leifure and your bounties shall
Concur together, feverally entreat him.

50 Beat loud the tabourines *, let the trumpets blow,
That this great foldier may his welcome know.

Manent Troilus, and Ulyffes.

Troi. My lord Ulyffes, tell me, I beseech you, 55 In what place of the field doth Calchas keep?

Ulyf. At Menelaus' tent, moft princely Troilus: There Diomed doth feast with him to-night; Who neither looks on heaven, nor on the earth, But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view 160 On the fair Creffid. [much, Troi. Shall I, fweet lord, be bound to you fo

• The repetition of thou! was anciently used by one who meant to infult another. 3 To convive is to feaft.

4 Tabourines are fmali drums.
3 La

a i, e. obferved.


After we part from Agamemnon's tent,

To bring me thither?

Ulyf. You fhall command me, fir.

As gentle tell me, of what honour was

This Creffida in Troy? Had the no lover there,
That wails her abfence?


Troi. O, fir, to such as boasting shew their fears A mock is due. Will you walk on, my lord? She was belov'd, fhe lov'd; she is, and doth: But, ftill, fweet love is food for fortune's tooth. [Exeunt.



Achilles' Tent.


Enter Achilles, and Patroclus.


'LL heat his blood with Greekish wine

Which with my fcimitar I'll cool to-morrow.
Patroclus, let us feaft him to the height.
Patr. Here comes Therfites.

Enter Therfites.

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Achil. How now, thou core of envy? Thou crufty batch of nature, what's the news? Ther. Why, thou picture of what thou feemeft, and idol of ideot-worshippers, here's a letter for thee.

Achil. From whence, fragment?

Ther. Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy.
Patr. Who keeps the tent now?

Ther. The furgeon's box, or the patient's wound. Patr. Well faid, adverfity! and what need thefe tricks?

Ther. Pr'ythee be filent, boy; I profit not by thy talk: thou art thought to be Achilles' male varlet.


Ther. Finch egg!

Achil. My fweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite From my great purpose in to-morrow's battle. Here is a letter from queen Hecuba;

A token from her daughter, my fair love; 20 Both taxing me, and gaging me to keep

An oath that I have fworn. I will not break it: Fall, Greeks; fail, fame; honour, or go or stay; My major vows lie here, this I'll obey.———— Come, come, Therfites, help to trim my tent; 25 This night in banquetting must all be spent.— Away, Patroclus.


Ther. With too much blood, and too little brain, thefe two may run mad: but if with too much brain and too little blood, they do, I'll be a curer 30 of madmen. Here's Agamemnon,-an honeft fellow enough, and one that loves quails 2; but he hath not fo much brain as ear-wax: And the goodly transformation of Jupiter there, his brother, the bull,-the primitive ftatue, and oblique 3 me35 morial of cuckolds; a thrifty shoeing-horn in a chain, hanging at his brother's leg,—to what form, but that he is, should wit larded with malice, and malice forced 4 with wit, turn him? To an afs, were nothing; he is both afs and ox: to an ox

Patr. Male varlet, you rogue! what's that?
Ther. Why, his mafculine whore. Now the 40 were nothing; he is both ox and afs. To be a

rotten difeafes of the fouth, the guts-griping, rup-|
tures, cattarrhs, loads o' gravel i' the back, lethar-
gies, cold palfies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten livers,
wheezing lungs, bladders full of impofthume, scia-
ticas, lime-kilns i' the palm, incurable bone-ach, 45
and the rivell'd fee fimple of the tetter, take and
take again fuch prepofterous discoveries!

Patr. Why, thou damnable box of envy, thou, what meaneft thou to curfe thus ?

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dog, a mule, a cat, a fitchew, a toad, a lizard, an
owl, a puttock, or a herring without a roe, I
would not care: but to be a Menelaus,-I would
confpire against destiny. Ask me not what I
would be, if I were not Therfites; for I care not
to be the loufe of a lazar, fo I were not Menelaus.
-Hey day! fpirits, and fires!

Enter Hotor, Troilus, Ajax, Agamemnon, Ulyfes,
Neftor, and Diomed, with lights.
Aga. We go wrong, we go wrong.
Ajax. No, yonder 'tis ;

There, where we fee the light.
Het. I trouble you.
Ajax. No, not a whit.

Ulyf. Here comes himself to guide you.
Enter Achilles.

Achil. Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, princes all.

Batch fignifies all that is baked at one time, without heating the oven afresh. A batch of bread is a phrase still used in Staffordshire. Therfites had already been called cobleaf. 2 By loving quails the poet may mean loving the company of harlots. A quail is remarkably falacious. 3 The author of The Revifal obferves, that "the memorial is called oblique, because it was only indirectly fuch, upon the common fuppofition that both bulls and cuckolds were furnished with horns." + i, e. stuffed Aga.

with wit.

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[Exeunt feverally.|

Ther. That fame Diomed's a falfe-hearted rogue,| a moft unjust knave; I will no more truft him 25| when he leers, than I will a ferpent when he hiffes: he will spend his mouth, and promife like Brabler the hound; but when he performs, aftronomers foretel it; it is prodigious, there will come fome change; the fun borrows of the moon, 30 when Diomed keeps his word. I will rather leave to fee Hector, than not to dog him: they fay, he keeps a Trojan drab, and ufes the traitor Calchas his tent: I'll after.-Nothing but lechery! all incontinent varlets! [Exit. 35

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[pray you,

Cre. Hark, one word in your ear.
Troi. O plague and madness!
Ulyf. You are mov'd, prince; let us depart, I
Left your displeasure should enlarge itself
To wrathful terms: this place is dangerous;
The time right deadly; I beseech you, go.
Trai. Behold, I pray you!

Ulyf. Now, good my lord, go off:
You flow to great diftraction 3: come, my lord.
Troi. I pr'ythee, stay.

Ulyf. You have not patience; come. [torments,
Tri. I pray you, stay; by hell, and by hell's
I will not speak a word.

Di. And fo good night.

Cre. Nay but you part in anger.

Trei. Doth that grieve thee?

O wither'd truth!

Ulyf. Why, how now, lord?

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Dis. What are you up here, ho? fpeak.

Calchas, I think. Where is your daughter?

Cal. She comes to you.

Enter Troilus, and Ulyffes at a diftance; after them


Ulyf. Stand where the torch may not difcover us.

Enter Creffida.

Troi. Creffid come forth to him!

Dio. How now, my charge?

Cre. Now, my fweet guardian !-Hark, A word with you.

Troi. Yea, fo familiar!


Ulyf. She will fing any man at first fight.

Ther. And any man

May fing her, if he can take her cliff; fhe's noted.
Dio. Will you remember?

tabler or brabler.

Troi. By Jove, I will be patient,

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* If a hound gives his mouth, and is not upon the fcent of the game, he is by fportsmen called a 2 Cliff is a mark in music at the beginning of the lines of a fong; and is the indication of the pitch, and befpeaks what kind of voice-as bafe, tenour, treble, it is proper for. The meaning is, The tide of your imagination will hurry you either to noble death from the hand of Diomed, or to the height of madness from the predominance of your own paffions. 4 Mr. Collins explains this paffage thus: "Luxuria was the appropriate term used by fchool divines, to express the fin of incontinence, which accordingly is called luxury in all our old English writers. But 3 L3 why

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Cre. O, all you gods!-O pretty pretty pledge!
Thy master now lies thinking on his bed
Of thee, and me; and fighs, and takes my glove,
And gives memorial dainty kiffes to it,
As I kifs thee.-Nay, do not fnatch it from me;
He, that takes that, muft take my heart withal.
Dio. I had your heart before, this follows it.
Trois I did fwear patience.

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Uly. Why ftay we then?

Trai. To make a recordation to my foul
Of every fyllable that here was spoke.
But, if I tell how thefe two did co-act,
20 Shall I not lye in publishing a truth?
Sith yet there is a credence in my heart,
An efperence fo obftinately strong,
That doth invert the attest of eyes and ears;
As if thofe organs had deceptious functions,
25 Created only to calumniate.
Was Creffid here?


Ulyf. I cannot conjure, Trojan.
Troi. She was not, fure.

Ulyf. Moft fure, she was:

Troi. Why, my negation hath no taste of madness.
Ulyf. Nor mine, my lord: Creffid was here

but now.

Troi. Let it not be believ'd for womanhood! Think, we had mothers; do not give advantage

Cre. You shall not have it, Diomed; faith you 35 To ftubborn critics-apt, without a theme,

shall not;

I'll give you fomething else.

Dio. I will have this; Whofe was it?

Cre. It is no matter.

Dio. Come, tell me whofe it was.

[will. 40

Cre. 'Twas one's that lov'd me better than you

But, now you have it, take it.

Dio. Whofe was it?

Cre. By all Diana's waiting women yonder 2, And by herself, I will not tell you whose.

Dio. To-morrow will I wear it on my helm; And grieve his fpirit, that dares not challenge it. Troi. Wer't thou the devil, and wor'ft it on thy horn,

It fhould be challeng'd.


[is not; 50 Gre. Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis paft ;-And yet it I will not keep my word.

Dio. Why then, farewel;

Thou never fhalt mock Diomed again.

For depravation-to fquare the general sex
By Creffid's rule: rather think this not Creffid.
Ulyf. What hath she done, prince, that can foil

our mothers?

Trei. Nothing at all, unless that this were the.
Ther. Will he fwagger himself out on's own eyes?
Troi. This he? no, this is Diomed's Creffida:
If beauty have a foul, this is not the;
If fouls guide vows, if vows be sanctimony,
If fanctimony be the gods' delight,
If there be rule in unity itself,
This is not the. O madness of discourse,
That caufe fets up with and against itself |
Bi-fold authority! where reafon can revolt
Without perdition, and loss affume all reason
Without revolt 5; this is, and is not, Creffid;
Within my foul there doth commence a fight
Of this ftrange nature, that a thing infeperate.
Divides far wider than the sky and earth;

Cre. You fhall not go:-One cannot speak a word, 55 And yet the fpacious breadth of this divifion

But it ftraight starts you.

Dio. I do not like this fooling.

Ther. Nor 1, by Pluto: but that that likes not you,

Pleafes me best.

Din. What, fhall I come? the hour?

Admits no orifice for a point, as fubtle
As Arachne's broken woof, to enter.
Inftance, O inftance! ftrong as Pluto's gates;
Creflid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven:
60 Instance, O inftance! ftrong as Heaven itself;

why is luxury, or lafciviousness, faid to have a potatoe finger?This root, which was in our author's time but newly imported from America, was confidered as a rare exotic, and esteemed a very strong provocative."

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It was anciently the cuftom to wear a lady's fleeve for a points to. 3 i. e. fhe could not publish a stronger proof. That is, If there be certainty in unity, 5 The words lofs and perdition are ufed in their common fenfe, but they

if it be a rule that one is one. mean the lofs or perdition of reason.

The bonds of heaven are flipp'd, diffolv'd, and


And with another knot, five-finger-tied ",
The fractions of her faith, orts of her love,
The fragments, fcraps, the bits, and greafy reliques
Of her o'er-eaten 2 faith, are bound to Diomed.
Ulyf. May worthy Troilus be half attach'd
With that which here his paffion doth exprefs!
Trai. Ay, Greek; and that fhall be divulged well
In characters as red as Mars his heart
Inflam'd with Venus: never did young man fancy
With fo eternal, and fo fix'd a foul.
Hark, Greek ;-As much as I do Creffid love,
So much by weight hate I her Diomed:
That fleeve is mine, that he'll bear on his helm;
Were it a cafque compos'd by Vulcan's skill,
My sword should bite it: not the dreadful spout,
Which shipmen do the hurricano call,
Conftring'd in mafs by the almighty fun,
Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptune's ear
In his defcent, than fhall my prompted fword
Falling on Diomed.

Ther. He'll tickle it for his concupy.

Troi. O Creffid! O falfe Creffid! falfe, falfe, falfe! Let all untruths ftand by thy stained name, And they'll feem glorious.

Ulyf. O, contain yourself;

Your paffion draws ears hither.

Enter Æneas.

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Het. Begone, I fay: the gods have heard me Caf. The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows; They are polluted offerings, more abhorr'd 15 Than fpotted livers in the facrifice.


And. O! be perfuaded: Do not count it holy To hurt by being just it is as lawful For us to count we give what's gain'd by thefts, And rob in the behalf of charity.

Caf. It is the purpose, that makes strong the vow; But vows to every purpose must not hold : Unarm, fweet Hector.

Het. Hold you still, I fay;

Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate: 25 Life every man holds dear; but the dear 4 man Holds honour far more precious-dear than life.Enter Troilus.

Ene. I have been seeking you this hour, my lord; 30|
Hector, by this, is arming him in Troy ;
Ajax, your guard, stays to conduct you home.

Trai. Have with you, prince :-My courteous
lord, adieu:

Farewel, revolted fair!-and, Diomed,
Stand faft, and wear a caftle 3 on thy head!
Ulyf. I'll bring you to the gates.
Troi. Accept distracted thanks.

How now, young man? mean'st thou to fight to: day?

And. Caffandra, call my father to perfuade.
[Exit Caffandra.
He. No, 'faith, young Troilus; doff 5 thy har
nefs, youth;

I am to-day i' the vein of chivalry:
35 Let grow thy finews '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 ftand, to-day, for thee, and me, and Troy.

[Exeunt Troilus, Æneas, and Ulyffes. Ther. 'Would, I could meet that rogue Diomed! 40 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 parrot will not do more for an almond, than he for a commodious drab. Lechery, lechery; ftill, wars and 45 lechery nothing elfe holds fashion: A burning devil take them! [Exit.

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Troi. Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you, Which better fits a lion, than a man.

He. What vice is that, good Troilus? chide

me for it.

Troi. When many times the captive Grecians fall, Even in the fan and wind of your fair fword, You bid them rife, and live.

Het. O, 'tis fair play.

Troi. Fool's play, by heaven, Hector.
Het. How now? how now?

Troi. For the love of all the gods,

50 Let's leave the hermit pity with our mother;
And when we have our armours.buckled on,
The venom'd vengeance ride upon our swords;
Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth.
Hel. Fie, favage, fie!


Troi. Hector, then 'tis wars,

Heft. Troilus, I would not have you fight to-day. Troi. Who fhould withhold me?

Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars
Beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire;

2 Vows which he has already fwallowed once over.
3 It has been before obferved in note,
4 i. e. the valuable man. 5 i. c. put off.

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