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, This is not fhe. O madness of difcourfe! 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 Hark, Greek, as much as I do Creffid love, 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. Farewell, revolted fair. And, Diomede, 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; 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, Unarm thee; go; and doubt thou not, brave boy, 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. Troi. For love of all the gods, Let's leave the hermit Pity with our mothers; Troi. Hector, thus 'tis in wars. Heft. Troilus, I would not have you fight to-day. No fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars, Their eyes o'er-galled with recourfe of tears; 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 Hect. Eneas is a-field, And I do stand engag'd to many Greeks, Priam. But thou shalt not go. Hect. I must not break my faith. You know me dutiful; therefore, dear Sir, Hect. Andromache, I am offended with you. [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, |