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the hound; but when he performs, astronomers foretell it; it is prodigious; 1 there will come some change: the sun borrows of the moon, when Diomed 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 Calchas' tent. I'll after. Nothing but lechery! all incontinent varlets !
The same. Before Calchas' tent.
Dio. What are you up here, ho ? speak.
Dio. Diomed.-Calchas, I think.- Where's your daughter?
Cal. [within.] She comes to you.
Enter TROILUŚ and ULYSSES, at a distance ; after
Ulys. Stand where the torch may not discover us.
Troi. Cressid comes forth to him !
How now, my charge?
1 Portentous, ominous.
Cres. Now, my sweet guardian !-Hark! a word
[whispers. Troi. Yea, so familiar ! Ulys. She will sing any man at first sight.
Ther. And any man may sing her, if he can take her cliff : 1 she's noted.
Dio. Will you remember?
Dio. Nay, but do then; and let your mind be coupled with your words.
Troi. What should she remember?
what:Dio. Pho! pho! come, tell a pin : you are for
Cres. In faith, I cannot: what would you have
me do ?
Ther. A juggling trick, to be-secretly open.
Cres. I pr’ythee, do not hold me to mine oath : Bid me do any thing but that, sweet Greek.
Dio. Good night.
How now, Trojan ?
i Key note.
Diomed, Dio. No, no, good night: I'll be your fool no
Troi. Thy better must.
Hark, one word in your ear.
Troi. Behold, I pray you !
Now, good my lord, go off : You flow to great destruction; come, my lord.
Troi. I pr'ythee, stay.
You have not patience; come. Troi. I pray you, stay; by hell, and all hell's tor
And so, good night.
Doth that grieve thee? O wither'd truth !
Ulys. Why, how now, lord ?
Cres. Guardian !-why, Greek!
Cres. In faith, I do not: come hither once
again. Ulys. You shake, my lord, at something : will
You will break out.
She strokes his cheek!
Come, come. Troi. Nay, stay; by Jove, I will not speak a
word : There is between my will and all offences A guard of patience :-stay a little while.
Ther. How the devil luxury, with his fat rump and potatoe finger, tickles these together! Fry, lechery, fry! Dio. But will
[Erit. Ulys. You have sworn patience. Troi.
Fear me not, my lord; I will not be myself, nor have cognition 1 Of what I feel : I am all patience.