The providence that's in a watchful state,
Knows almost every grain of Plutus' gold ;
Finds bottom in the uncomprehensive deeps;
Keeps place with thought, and almost, like the gods,
Does thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles.
There is a mystery (with whom relation
Durst never meddle) in the soul of state;
Which hath an operation more divine,
Than 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 flector, than Polyxena:
But it must grieve young Pyrrhus 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 o'er the ice that you should break.

so there is; but it lies as coldly in him as fire in a flint, which will not show without knocking. The man's undone for ever; for if Hector break not his neck i'the combat, he'll break it 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 is grown a very land-fisb, languageless, a monster. A plague of opinion! A man may wear it on both sides, like a leatherjerkin.

Achil. Thou must be my embassador to him, Thersites.

Ther. Who, I? why, he'll answer nobody; he professes not answering; speaking is for beggars; He wears his tongue in his 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 most valorous Hector to come unarmed to my tent; and to procure safe conduct for his person, of the magnanimous, and most illustrious, six-or-seven-times-bonoured captain-gen eral of the Grecian army, Agamemnon. Do this. Patr. Jove bless great Ajax.

Ther. Fare you well, with all my heart. Achil. Why, but he is not in this tune, is he? Ther. No, but he's out o'tune thus. What music will be in 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 straight. Ther. Let me bear another to his horse; for that's the more capable creature.

Achil. My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirr'd; And I myself see not the bottom of it.

[Exeunt Achil. and Patr. Ther. 'Would the fountain of your mind were clear again, that I might water an ass at it! I had rather be a tick in a sheep, than such a valiant ignorance. [Exit.

ACT IV.

SCENE I-Troy. A Street. Enter, at one side, Eneas and Servant, with a Torch; at the other, Paris, Deiphobus, Antenor, Diomedes, and others, with Torches.

Paris. SEE, bo! who's that there? Dei.

'Tis the lord Æneay. Ene. Is the pince there in person ?

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 arm'd, 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 sympathize :-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; "Twas 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, father, 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.

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 ber, 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 fiát tamed piece;
You, like a lecher, out of whorish loins
Are pleas'd to breed out your inheritors:

Both merits pois'd, each weighs nor less nor more;

But he as he, the heavier for a whore.

Par. You are too bitter to your countrywoman, Dio. She's bitter to her country: Hear me, Paris,For every false drop in her bawdy veins

A Grecian's life hath sunk; for every scruple
Of her contaminated carrion weight,

A Trojan hath been slain: since she could speak,
She hath not given so many good words breath,
As for her Greeks and Trojans suffer'd death.
Par. Fair Diomed, you do as chapmen do,
Dispraise the thing that you desire to buy:
But we in silence hold this virtue well,-
We'll not commend what we intend to sell.
Here lies our way.

[Exeunt.

Cres. A pestilence on him! now will he be mock. ing: I shall have such a life,

Pan. How now, how now? how go maidenheads? -Here, you maid! where's my cousin Cressid? Cres. Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking un cle!

You bring me to do, and then you flout me too. Pan. To do what? to do what?-let her say what: what have I brought you to do?

Cres. Come, come; beshrew your heart! you'll ne'er be good,

Nor suffer others.

Fan. 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 knock'd 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 deceiv'd, 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 Eneas? 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? tis more than I know, Pll be sworn :-For my own part, I came in late: What should he do here?

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; Go.

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 Deliver❜d to us; and for him forthwith, Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour, We must give up to Diomedes' hand The lady Cressida.

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 Eneas,
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 Æneas. 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!

Enter Cressida.

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'ythee, get thee in ; 'Would thou hadst ne'er been born! I knew, thou wouldst be his death :-0 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; 'twill be his death; 'twill 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.

SCENE III-The same. Before Pandarus's House. Enter Paris, Troilus, Eneas, Deiphobus, Antenor, and Diomedes.

Par. It is great morning; and the hour prefix'd Of her delivery to this valiant Greek

Walk into her house;

Comes fast upon :-Good my brother Troilus,
Tell you the lady what she is to do,
And haste her to the purpose.
Tro.
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 to it his own heart. [Exit.
Par. I know what 'tis 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's House. Enter Pandarus and Cressida.

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 temporize with my affection,
Or brew it to a weak and cokler palate,
The like allayment could I give my grief:
My love admits no qualifying dross:
No more my grief in such a precious loss.
Enter Troilus.

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,- 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 strain'd 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 froin me.
Cres. Have the gods envy?

Pan. Ay, ay, ay, ay; 'tis too plain a case.
Cres. And is it true, that I must go from Troy?
Tro. A hateful truth.
Cres.
What, and from Troilus too?
Tro. From Troy, and Troilus.
Cres.
Is it possible?
Tro. And suddenly; where injury of chance
Puts back leave-taking, justles roughly by
All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips

Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents

Our lock'd embrasures, 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 robber's buste,
Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how:
As many farewells as be stars in heaven,
With distinct breath and consign'd kisses to them,
He fumbles up into a loose adieu ;

And scants us with a single famish'd kiss,
Distasted with the salt of broken tears.

Ene. [Within.] My lord! is the lady ready?
Tro. Hark! you are call'd: 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!
Cres. I must then to the Greeks?
Tro.
Cres. A woeful Cressid 'mongst the merry Greeks!
When shall we see again?

No remedy.

[Exit.

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 expos'd, my lord, to dangers As infinite as imminent! but, I'll be true.

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

Cres. And you this glove. When shall I see you? Tro. I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels, To give thee nightly visitation.

Cres.

O heavens! you love me not,
Tro. 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 lavolt, nor sweeten talk,
Nor play at subtle games; fair virtues all,

To which the Grecians are most prompt and pregnant:
But I can tell, that in each grace of these
There lurks a still and dumb-discoursive devil,
That tempts most cunningly: but be not tempted.
Cres. Do you think, I will?
Tro.

No.

But something may be done, that we will not:
And sometimes we are devils to ourselves,
When we will tempt the frailty of our powers,
Presuming on their changeful potency.
Ene. [Within.] Nay, good my lord,———-
Tro.
Corne, kiss; and let us part.
Par. [Within.] Brother Troilus!
Tro. Good brother, come you hither;

And bring Eneas, and the Grecian, with you.
Cres. My lord, will you be true?

Tro. Who I? alas, it is my vice, my fault:
While others fish with craft for great opinion,
I with great truth catch mere simplicity;
Whilst some with cunning gild their copper crowns,
With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare.
Fear not my truth; the moral of my wit
Is-plain, and true,-there's all the reach of it.
Enter Eneas, Paris, Antenor, Deiphobus, and Dio-
medes.

-Welcome, sir Diomed! here is the lady,
Which for Antenor we deliver you:
At the port, lord, I'll ve her to thy hand;
And, by the way, possess thee what she is.
Entreat her fair; and, by my soul, fair Greck.
If e'er thou stand at mercy of my sword,
Name Cressid, and thy life shall be as safe
As Priam is in Ilion.
Dio.

Fair lady Cressid,

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 call'd 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 mov'd, prince Troilus:
Let me be privileg'd 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 priz'd; but that you say→be't so,
I'll speak it in my spirit and honour,-no.

Tro. Come, to the part.-I'll tell thee, Diomed,
This brave all 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. 'Tis Troilus' fault: Come, come, to field with

him.

SCENE V.-The Grecian Camp. Lists set out. Enter Ajax, armed; Agamemnon, Achilles, Patroclus, Menelaus, Ulysses, Nestor, and others.

Agu. 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, aki split thy brazen pipe:

Aga. Most dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet lady. Nest. Our general doth salute you with a kiss. Ulyss. Yet is the kindness but particular;

'Twere better she were kiss'd in general.

Nest. And very courtly counsel: I'll begin.

So much for Nestor.

Achil.

If not Achilles, sir,

If not Achilles, nothing.

lady:

Patr. Paris, and I, kiss evermore for him. Men. 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.

Men. I'll give you boot, I'll give you three for one. Cres. You are an odd man; give even, or give none. Men. An odd man, lady? every man is odd. Cres. No, Paris is not; for, you know, 'tis true, That you are odd, and he is even with you. Men. You fillip me o'the head.

Ulyss. 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. Ulyss. Never's my day, and then a kiss of you. Dio. Lady, a word ;-I'll bring you to your father. [Diomed leads out Cressida. Nest. A woman of quick sense. Ulyss Fie, fie upon her! There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of her body. O, these encounterers, so glib of tongue, That give a coasting welcome ere it comes, And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts To every ticklish reader! set them down

For sluttish spoils of opportunity,

And daughters of the game.

All. The Trojans' trumpet.
Aga.

[Trumpet within.

Yonder comes the troop.

Valour and pride excel themselves in Hector;
The one alrost as infinite as all,

The other blank as nothing. Weigh 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 seck
This blended knight, half Trojan, and half Greek.
Achil. A maiden battle then?-O, I perceive you.

Re-enter Diomed.

Aga. Here is sir Diomed.-Go, gentle knight,
Stand by our Ajax: as you and lord Æneas
Consent 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.
[Ajax and Hector enter the lists.

Ulyss. They are oppos'd already. Aga. What Trojan is that same that looks so heavy? Ulyss. The youngest son of Priam, a true knight; Not yet mature, yet matchless ; firm of word; Speaking in deeds, and deedless in his tongue; Not soon provok'd, nor, being provok'd, soon calm'd: 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 Eneas; one that knows the youth Even to his inches, and, with private soul, Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me. [Alarum. Hector and Ajax fight. Aga. They are in action. Nest. Now, Ajax, hold thine own!

Tro.

Awake thee!

Hector, thou sleep'st;