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I'll answer to my Luft: And know, my Lord,
I'll nothing do on charge; to her own worth
She shall be priz'd : But that you say, be't fo;
I'll speak it in my Spirit and Honour-No.

Troi. Come to the Port--.-I'll tell thee, Diomede,
This Brave shall oft make thee to hide thy Head:
Lady, give me your Hand — And as we walk,
To our own selves bend we our peedful Talk.

[Sound Trumpet. Par. Hak, Hector's Trumpet ! Æne. How have we spent this Morning? The Prince must think me tardy and remiss, That swore to ride before him in the Field.

Par. 'Tis Troilus fault. Come, come to Field with him. Dio. Let us make ready stráit.

Æne. Yea, with a Bridegroom's fresh alacrity Let us address to tend on Hector's Heels : The Glory of our Troy doth this day lye On his fair Worth, and fingle Chivalry. [Exeunt


SCENE JI. The Grecian Camp. Enter Ajax Armed, Agamemnon, Achilles, Patroclus, Me

nelaus, Ulysses, Neftor, Calchas, 6c.

Aga. 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 hiin hither.

Ajax. Thou Trumpet, there's my Purse;
Now crack thy Lungs, and split thy Brasen Pipe:
Blow Villain, 'till thy sphered bias Cheek
Out-swell the Cholick of puft Aquilon :
Come stretch thy Cheft,and let thy Eyesspout Blood:
Thou blowest for Hector.

Vll. No Trumpet answers.
Achil. 'Tis but early days.


Enter Diomede and Crellida..
Aga. Is't not young Diomede with Calchas Daughter?

Ulys. 'Tis he, I ken the manner of his Gare,
He rises on his Toe; that Spirit of his
In Aspiration lifts him from the Earth.

Aga. Is this the Lady Crellida?
Dio. Even (he.
Aga. Most dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet Lady.
Neft. Our General doth salute you with a Kifs.

Ulys. Yet is your Kindness but particular; 'twere better she were kist in general.

Neft. And very courtly Counsel: I'll begin. So much for Neftor. Achil

. I'll take that Winter from your Lips; fair Lady, Achilles bids you welcome.

Men. I had good Argument for kissing once.

Patr. But that's no Argument for killing now; For thus pop'd Paris in his Hardiment.

Ulys. Oh deadly Gall, and theme of all our Scorns, For which we lose our Heads to gild his Horns.

Patr. The first was Menelaus kiss....this mine....
Parroclus kisses you.

Men. O this is trim,
Patr. Paris and I kiss evermore for him.
Men. I'll have my kiss, Sir: Lady, by your leave.
Cre. In killing do you render, or receive?
Patr. Both take and give.

Cre. I'll make my match to give,
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.
Cre. You are an odd Man, give even, or give none.
Men. An odd Man, Lady ? every Man is odd,

Cre. No, Paris is not ; for you know 'tis true,
That you are odd, and he is even with you.

Men. You fillip me o'th' head,
Cre. No, I'll be sworn.
Ulys. It were no match, your Nail against his Horn:
May I, sweet Lady, beg a kiss of you?

Cre. You may.
Ulyf. I do defire it,



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Cre. Why beg then.

Ulys. Why then, for Venus fake give me a kiss:
When Helen is a Maid again, and his-

Cre. I am your debtor, claim it when 'tis due.
Uls. Never's my Day, and then a kiss of you.
Dio. Lady, a word—I'll bring you to your Father
Neft. A Woman of quick Sense.

[Diomedes leads out Cressida, then returns. Ulys. 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:
Oh these Encounters, are so glib of Tongue,
That give a coafting welcome e'er it comes;
And wide unclasp the Tables of their Thoughts,

every tickling Reader : Set them down,
For fluttish spoils of Opportunity,
And Daughters of the Game.
Enter Hector, Paris, Troilus, Æneas, Helenus, and Attendants.

All. The Trojans Trumpet.
Aga. Yonder comes the Troop.

Æne. Hail all you state of Greece; what shall be done
To him that Vi&ory commands? or do you purpose,
A Vi&or íhall be known : Will you, the Knights
Shall to the edge of all extremity
Pursue each other, or shall be divided
By any Vgice, or order of the Field: Hector bad ask?

Aga. Which way would Hector hare it?
Æne. He cares not, he'll obey Conditions.

Aga. 'Tis done like Hektor, but securely done,
A little proudly, and great deal despising
The Knight oppos’d.

Æne. If not Achilles, Sir, what is your Name?
Achil. If not Achilles, nothing.

Ane. Therefore Achilles; but whate'er, know this,
Is the extremity of great and little :
Valour and Pride excel themselves in Hečtor;
The one almost as infinite as all,
The other blank as nothing; weigh him well;
And that which looks like Pride, is Cartesie;
This Ajax is half made of Heétor's Blood,



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In love whereof, half Hector stays at home:
Half Heart, half Hand, half Hečtor, comes to seek
This blended Knight, half Trojan and half Greek.
- Achil, A Maiden Battel then? O, I perceive you.

Aga. Here is Sir Diomede: 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 uttermoft,
Or else a breach, the Combatants being kin,
Half Itints their Strife before their strokes begin.

Vlys. They are oppos'd already.
Ajax. What Trojan is that same that looks fo heavy?

Ulys. The youngest Son of Priam,
And a true Knight; they call him Troilus;
Not yet mature, yet matchless, firm of Word,
Speaking in Deeds, and deedless in his Tongue;
Not soon provok’d, nor being provok'd, foon calm’d.
His Heart and Hand both open, and both free;
For what he has he gives, what thinks he fhews ;
Yet gives he not 'till Judgment 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 Obje&s; but he in heat of Adion
Is more vindicative than jealous Love.
They call him Troilus, and on him erect
A second hope, as fairly built as Hector.
Thus says. Æneas, one that knows the Youth,
Even to his Inches; and with private Soul,
Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me.

[-Alarum. Aga. They are in A&ion.

[Hector and Ajax fight.
Neft. Now Ajax hold thine own.
Troi. Hector thou sleep'st, awake thee.
Aga. His Blows are well dispos d ; there Ajax. [Trumpers
Dio. You must no more.

ceafe. Æne. Princes, cough, so please you.

Ajax. I am not warm yet, let us fight again.
Dio. As Hector pleases.

Het. Why then, will I no more
Thou art, great Lord, my Father's Sister's Son;
A Cousin German to great Priam's Seed:

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The obligation of our Blood forbids
A gory Emularion 'twixt us twain;
Were thby Commixion Greek and Trojan so,
Thar thou could'it say, this Hand is Grecian all,
And this is Troj.in; the Sinews of this Leg
All Greek, and this al Troy: My Mother's Blood
Rus on the dexter Check, and this Sinifter
Bounds in my Father's: By Jove multipotent,
Thou ihould'st not boar from me a Greekifo Member
Wherein my Sword had not impressure made
Of our rank feud; but the just Gods gainsay,
Tharany drop thou borrow'st from thy Mother,
Mv sacied Aunt, should by my mortal Sword

Let me embrace thee, Ajax:
By iam that Thunders, thou hast lufty Arms;
Kiitor would have them fall upon him thus-
Cousin, all honour to thee.

Ajax. I thank thee, Hector:
Thou art too gentle, and too free a Man:
I came to kill thee, Cousin, and bear hence
A great addition earned in thy Death.

Hect. Not Neoptolemus lo mirable,
On whose bright Crest, Fame with her loud'st O yes,
Cries, This is he could promise to himself
A thought of added Honour torn from Hector.

Æne. There is expectance here from both the sides: What further you will do.

Heft. We'll answer it:
The issue is Embracement: Ajax, farewel,

Ajax. If I might in Entreaties find success,
As feld I have the chance; I would desire
My famous Cousin to our Grecian Tents.

Dio. 'Tis Agamemnun's with, and great Achilles
Doth long to fee unarm’d the valiant Hector.

Heft. Æneas, call my Brother Troiles to me:
And fignibe this loving Interview
To the expectors of the Trojan part:
Defire him home. Give me thy Hand, my Cousin:
I will go eat with thee, and see your Knights.

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