Ulyff. What hath fhe done, Prince, that can foil our mothers?

Troi. Nothing at all, unless that this was fhe. Ther. Will he fwagger himfelf out of his own eyes? Froi. This he? no, this is Diomedes's Crellida. If Beauty have a foul, this is not fhe :

If fouls guide vows, if vows be fanctimony,
If fanctimony be the gods delight,
If there be rule in unity* itielf,

This is not fhe. O madness of difcourfe!
That cause fet'ft up with and against thyfelf!
Be-fold authority ! where reafon can revolt
Without perdition, and lofs affume all reafon
Without revolt . This is, and is not, Creffid.
Within my foul there doth commence a fight
Of this ftrange nature, that a thing infeparate
Divides far wider than the sky and earth;
And yet the fpacious breadth of this divifion
Admits no orifice for a point, as subtle
As flight Arachne's broken woof to enter.
Inftance, O inftance, ftrong as Pluto's gates!
Creffid is mine, tied with the bonds of heav'n;
Inftance, O inftance, ftrong as heav'n itself!
The bonds of Heav'n are flip'd, diffolv'd and loos'd;
And with another knot five-finger'd-tied |,
The fractions of her faith, orts of her love,

in purity-Or, in verity. Johnson.

The old folio reads: By foul authority.' That is, O madness of reafoning, which would at the fame time perfuade thee that thy miftrefs is true, and yet that the is falfe too, and in both thofe refpects relying on a teftimony, which is all ftained with pollution, to wit, her own. Revifal.

If I may venture to guefs at the meaning of fo dark a riddle, I fhould imagine it to be this; Where reafon founded on paft affurances can determine in contradiction to the cleareft evidence, that have not loft Creffida's affection; and where the lofs of that affection is fo manifeft, that all my reafon ranges itself on this fide, in concurrence with the fullest evidence. Ibid

Knot five-finger-tied, a knot tied by giving her hand to Diomede. Johnfon.

The fragments, fcraps, the bits, and greafy reliques Of her o'er-eaten faith, are bound to Diomede. Uly. May worthy Troilus be half attach'd With that which here his paffion doth exprefs?

Troi. Ay, Greek, and that fhall be divulged well In characters as red as Mars his heart

Inflam'd with Venus. Ne'er 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 Diomede.
That fleeve is mine, that he'll bear in his helm ;
Were it a cafque compos'd by Vulcan's kill,
My fword fhould bite it. Not the dreadful fpout,
Which fhip-men do the hurricano-call,
Conftring'd in mafs by the almighty fun,
Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptune's ear
In his descent, than fhall my prompted sword
Falling on Diomede.

Ther. He'll tickle it for his concupy.

Troi. O Creffid! O falfe Creffid! falfe, falfe, falfe! Let all untruths ftand by thy ftained name,

And they'll feem glorious.

Ulyff. O, contain yourself;

Your paffion draws ears hither.

Enter Eneas.

Ene. I have been seeking you this hour, my Lord. Hector, by this, is arming him in Troy.

Ajax, your guard, ftays to conduct you home.
Troi. Have with you, Prince. My courteous Lord,
adieu.

Farewell, revolted fair. And, Diomede,
Stand faft, and wear a castle on thy head!
Uly. I'll bring you to the gates.

Troi. Accept distracted thanks.

[xeunt Troilus, Æneas, and Ulyffes. Ther. 'Would I could meet that rogue Diomede. I would croak like a raven; I would bode, I would bode. Patroclus will give me any thing for the

* Vows which she has already swallowed once over.

Jobnfon.

intelligence of this whore; the parrot will do no more for an almond, than he for a commodious drab. Lechery, lechery, ftill wars and lechery, nothing else holds fashion. A burning devil take them. [Exit.

"Changes to the Palace of Troy.

Enter Hector and Andromache.

And. When was my Lord fo much ungently temTo flop his ears against admonishment? Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to-day.

[per'd,

Heft. You train me to offend you. Get you gone.

By all the everlasting Gods, I'll go.

And. My dreams will, fure, prove ominous to-day. Hect. No more, I fay.

Enter Caffandra.

Caf. Where is my brother Hector?

And. Here, fifter; arm'd, and bloody in intent. Confort with me in loud and dear petition; Pursue we him on knees; for I have dream'd Of bloody turbulence; and this whole night Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of flaughter. Caf. O, 'tis true.

Hect. Ho! bid my trumpet found.

Caf. No notes of fally, for the Heav'ns, fweet brother.

Het. Be gone, I fay: the gods have heard me fwear.

Caf. The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows; They are polluted offerings, more abhorr'd Than fpotted livers in the facrifice.

And. O be perfuaded: do not count it holy To hurt by being juft; it were 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 purpofe that makes strong the vow; But vows to every purpose must not hold.

VOL. IX.

D d

Unarm, fweet Hector.

Het. Hold you ftill, I fay.

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

How now, young man; mean'st thou to fight today?

And. Caffandra, call my father to perfuade. [Exit Caffandra. Hect. No, 'faith, young Troilus; doff thy harnefs, youth;

I am to-day i' th' vein of chivalry.

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 stand, to-day, for thee, and me, and Troy.
Troi. Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you;
Which better fits a lion than a man.

Hect. What vice is that? good Troilus, chide me for it.

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

Hect. O, 'tis fair play.

Troi. Fool's play, by Heaven, Hector.
Hect. How now? how now?

Troi. For love of all the gods,

Let's leave the hermit Pity with our mothers;
And when we have our armour buckled on,
The venom'd vengeance ride upon our swords,
Spur them to rueful work, rein them from ruth.
Helt. Fy, favage, fy!

Troi. Hector, thus 'tis in wars.

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

No fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars,
Beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire;
Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees,

Their eyes o'er-galled with recourfe of tears;
Nor you, my brother, with your true fword drawn
Oppos'd to hinder me, fhould stop my way,
But by my ruin.

SCENE VII.

Enter Priam and Caffandra.

Caf. Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him faft, He is thy crutch; now if thou lofe thy ftay, Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee, Fall all together.

Priam. Come, Hector, come, go back:

[vilions;

Thy wife hath dream'd; thy mother hath had
Caffandra doth forefee; and I myself
Am, like a prophet, fuddenly enrapt
To tell thee, that this day is ominous.
Therefore come back.

Hect. Eneas is a-field,

And I do stand engag'd to many Greeks,
Ev'n in the faith of valour, to appear.
This morning to them.

Priam. But thou shalt not go.

Hect. I must not break my faith.

You know me dutiful; therefore, dear Sir,
Let me not fhame refpect; but give me leave
To take that courfe by your confent and voice,
Which you do here forbid me. Royal Priam.
Caf. O Priam, yield not to him.
And. Do not, dear father.

Hect. Andromache, I am offended with you.
Upon the love you bear me, get you in.

[Exit Andromache. Troi. This foolish, dreaming, fuperftitious girl

Makes all these bodements.

Caf. O farewell, dear Hector.

Look how thou dy'ft; look how thy eyes turn pale!

Look how thy wounds do bleed at many vents! Hark how Troy roars; how Hecuba cries out; How poor Andromache fhrills her dolour forth; Behold distraction, frenzy, and amazement,