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To be another's fool. 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 aye* her lamp and flames of love;
To keep her constancy in plight and youth,
Outliving beauty's 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 t with the match and weight
of such a winnow'd 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.

O virtuous fight,
When right with right wars who shall be most right!
True swains in love shall, in the world to come,
Approve their truths by Troilus: when their rhymes,
Full of protest, of oath, and big compare I,
Want similes, truth tir'd with iteration,
As true as steel, as plantage to the moou,
As sun to day, as turtle to her mate,
As iron to adamant, as earth to the centre,
Yet, after all comparisons of truth,
As truth's authentick author to be cited,
As true as Troilus shall crown ups the verse,
And sanctify the numbers.

* Ever.

+ Met with and equalled.
Comparison. Conclude it.



Prophet may you be! If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth, When time is old and hath forgot itself, When water drops have worn the stones of Troy, And blind oblivion swallow'd cities up, And mighty states characterless are grated To dusty nothing ; yet let memory, From false to false, among false maids in love, Upbraid my falsehood! when they have said-as

false As air, as water, wind, or sandy earth, As fox to lamb, as wolf beifer's calf, Pard to the hind, or stepdame to her son ; Yea, let thenı say, to stick the heart of falsehood, As false as Cressid.

Pan. Go to, a bargain made : seal it, seal it; I'll be the witness.--Here I hold your hand; here, my cousin's. If ever you prove false one to another, since I have taken such pains to bring you together, let all pitiful goers-between be called to the world's epd after my name, call them all-Pandars; let all inconstant men be Troiluses, all false women Cres. sids, and all brokers-between Pandars! say, amen.

Tro. Amen.
Cres. Amen.

Pan. Amen. Whereupon I will show you a cham. ber and a bed, which bed, because it shall not speak of your pretty encounters, press it to death : away.

And Cupid grant all tongue-tied maidens here, Bed, chamber, Pandar, to provide this geer!



The Grecian camp.

Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Diomedes, Nestor,

Ajax, Menelaus, and Calchas.

Cal. Now, princes, for the service I have done

The advantage of the time prompts me aloud
To call for recompense. Appear it to your mind,
That, through the sight I bear in things, to Jove
I have abandon'd Troy, left my possession,
Incurr'd a traitor's name ; expos'd myself,
From certain and possess'd conveniences,
To doubtful fortunes ; séquestring from me all
That time, acquaintance, custom, and condition,
Made taine 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


To give me now a little benefit,
Out of those many register'd in promise,
Which, you say, live to come in my behalf.
Agam. What would'st thou of us, Trojan ? make

Cal. You have a Trojan prisoner, call'd Antenor,
Yesterday took; Troy holds him very dear.
Oft have you (often have you thanks therefore),
Desir'd my Cressid in right great exchange,
Whom Troy hath still denied: But this Antenor,
I know, is such a wrest* in tbeir affairs,
That their negotiations all must slack,
Wanting his manage; and they will almost
Give us a prince of blood, a son of Priam,


• An instrument for tuning harps, &c.

In change of him : let him be sent, great princes,
And he shall buy my daughter; and her presence
Shall quite strike off all service I have done,
In most accepted pain.

Let Diomedes bear him,
And bring us Cressid hither; Calchas shall have
What he requests of us.-Good Diomed,
Furnish you fairly for this interchange:
Withal, bring word--if Hector will to-morrow
Be answer'd in his challenge: Ajax is ready.

Dio. This shall I undertake; and 'tis a burden Which I am proud to bear.

(Ereunt Diomedes and Calchas,

Enter Achilles and Patroclus, before their tent,

Ulyss. Achilles stands i'the entrance of his tent:-
Please it our general to pass strangely* by him,
As if he were forgot; and, princes all,
Lay negligent and loose regard upon him:
I will come last : 'Tis like, he'll question me,
Why such unplausive eyes are bent, why turn'd on

liim :
If so, I have derision med'einable,
To use between your strangeness and his pride,
Which bis own will shall have desire to drink;
It may do good : pride hath no other glass
To show itself, but přide; for supple knees
Feed arrogance, and are the proud mau's fees.

Agam. We'll execute your purpose, and put on
A form of strangeness as we pass along ;-
So do each lord ; aud either greet him not,
Or else disdainfully, which shall shake him more
Than if not look'd on. 1 will lead the way.

Achil. What, comes the general to speak with me? You know my mind, I'll fight no more 'gainst Troy. Agam. What says Achilles? would he aught with


• Shyly.

Nest. Would you, my lord, aught with the gene

ral ? Achil.

No. Nest. Nothing, my lord. Agam.

The better.

[Exeunt Agamemnon and Nestor. Achil.

Good day, good day. Men. How do you? how do you?

[Exit Menelaus. Achil. What, does the cuckold scorn me? Ajar. How now,

Patroclus? Achil.

Good morrow, Ajax. Ajax.

Ha? Achil. Good morrow. Ajar.

Ay, and good next day too.

[Exit Ajax. Achil. What mean these fellows ?

Kuow they not Achilles ? Patr. They pass by strangely: they were us'd to

To send their smiles before them to Achilles;
To come as humbly, as they us'd to creep
To holy altars.

What, am I poor of late ?
'Tis certain, greatness, once fallen out with fortune,
Must fall out with men too : What the declin'd 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 man, for being simply man,
Hath any honour; but honour for those honours
That are without him, as place, riches, favour,
Prizes of accident as oft as merit:
Which when they fall, as being slippery standers,
The love that lean'd on them, as slippery too,
Do one pluck down another, and together
Die in the fall. 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, methinks, find out

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