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Ulyss. Nor mine, my lord: Cressid was here

but now.

Tro. Let it not be believ'd for womanhood! Think, we had mothers; do not give advantage To stubborn critics-apt, without a theme, For depravation,-to square the general sex By Cressid's rule: rather think this not Cressid. Ulyss. What hath she done, prince, that can soil our mothers?

Tro. Nothing at all, unless that this were she. Ther. Will he swagger himself out on's own eyes?

Tro. This she? no, this is Diomed's Cressida : If beauty have a soul, this is not she;

If souls guide vows, if vows be sanctimony,
If sanctimony be the gods' delight,

If there be rule in unity itself,

This was not she. O madness of discourse,
That cause sets up with and against itself!
Bi-fold authority! where reason can revolt
Without perdition, and loss assume all reason
Without revolt; this is, and is not, Cressid!
Within my soul there doth commence a fight
Of this strange nature, that a thing inseparate
Divides more wider than the sky and earth;
And yet the spacious breadth of this division
Admits no orifice for a point, as subtle
As is Arachne's broken woof, to enter.
Instance, O instance! strong as Pluto's gates;
Cressid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven:
Instance, Onstance! strong as heaven itself;
The bonds of heaven are slipp'd, dissolv'd, and
And with another knot, five-finger tied, [loos'd;
'The fractions of her faith, orts of her love,
The fragments, scraps, the bits, and greasy reliques
Of her o'er-eaten faith, are bound to Diomed.

Ulyss. May worthy Troilus be half attach'd With that which here his passion doth express? Tro. Ay, Greek; and that shall be divulged In characters as red as Mars his heart [well Inflam'd with Venus: never did young man fancy With so eternal and so fix'd a soul.

Hark, Greek ;-As much as I do Cressid love,
So much by weight hate I her Diomed:
That sleeve is mine, that he'll bear on his helm ;
Were it a casque compos'd by Vulcan's skill,
My sword should bite it: not the dreadful spout,
Which shipmen do the hurricano call,
Constring'd in mass by the almighty sun,
Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptune's ear
In his descent, than shall my prompted sword
Falling on Diomed.

[false!

Ther. He'll tickle it for his concupy. Tro. O Cressid! O false Cressid! false, false, Let all untruths stand by thy stained name, And they'll seem glorious.

Ulyss. O, contain yourself; Your passion draws ears hither.

Enter Eneas.

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Ulyss. I'll bring you to the gates. Tro. Accept distracted thanks.

[exeunt Troilus, Æneas, and Ulysses. Ther. 'Would, I could meet that rogue, Diomed! I would croak like a raven; I would bode, I would bode. Patroclus will give me any thing for the intelligence of this whore: the parrot will not do more for an almond, than he for a commodious drab.-Lechery, lechery; still, wars and lechery; nothing else holds fashion: a burninį devil take them! [exit

SCENE III. TROY. BEFORE FRIAM'S PALACE.
Enter Hector and Andromache.

And. When was my lord so much ungently temper'd,

To stop his ears against admonishment?
Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to-day.

[day.

Hect. You train me to offend you: get you in; By all the everlasting gods, I'll go. And. My dreams will, sure, prove ominous toHect. No more, I say.

Enter Cassandra.

Cus. Where is my brother Hector?

And. Here, sister; arm'd, and bloody in intent: Consort with me in loud and dear petition, Pursue we him on knees; for I have diam'd Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter.

Cas. O, it is true.

Hect. Ho! bid my trumpet sound!

Cas. No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet brother.

Hect. Begone, I say: the gods have heard me

swear.

Cas. The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows; They are polluted offerings, more abhorr'd Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.

And. O! be persuaded: do not count it holy To hurt by being just: it is as lawful, For we would give much, to use violent thefts, And rob in the behalf of charity. [vow;

Cas. It is the purpose, that makes strong the But vows, to every purpose, must not hold: Unarm, sweet Hector.

Hect. Hold you still, I say;

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. Cassandra, call my father to persuade.
[exit Cassandra.
Hect. No, 'faith, young Troilus; doff thy har-
ness, youth,

I am to-day i'the vein of chivalry:
Let grow thy sinews 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.

Tro. Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you, Which better fits a lion than a man. Hect. What vice is that, good Troilus? chido me for it. [fall, Tro. When many times the captive Grecians

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Tro. Who should withhold me? Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars Beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire; Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees, Their eyes o'ergalled with recourse of tears; Nor you, my brother, with your true sword drawn, Oppos'd to hinder me, should stop my way, But by my ruin.

Re-enter Cassandra, with Priam.

Cas. Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him fast: He is thy crutch: now if thou lose thy stay, Thou, on him leaning, and all Troy on thee, Fall all together.

Pri. Come, Hector; come, go back:

Thy wife hath dream'd; thy mother hath had

visions;

Cassandra doth foresee; and I myself
Am like a prophet suddenly enrapt,
To tell thee-that this day is ominous;
Therefore, come back.

Hect. Eueas is afield;

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

Pri. But thou shalt not go.

Hect. I must not break my faith. You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sir, Let me not shame respect; but give me leave To take that course by your consent and voice, Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam. Cas. 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. [ex. And. Tro. This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl Makes all these bodements.

Cas. O farewell, dear Hector.

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Ther. Now they are clapper-clawing one another I'll go look on. That dissembling abominable varlet, Diomed, has got that same scurvy doting foolish young knave's sleeve of Troy there, in his helm: I would fain see them meet that that same young Trojan ass, that loves the whore there, might send that Greekish whore-masterly villain, with the sleeve, back to the dissembling luxurious drab, on a sleeveless errand. O'the other side, the policy of those crafty swearing rascals, that stale old mouse-enten dry cheese, Nestor; and that same dog-fox, Ulysses,—is not proved worth a blackberry:-They set me up, in policy, that mongrel cur, Ajax, against that dog of as bad a kind, Achilles: and now is the cur Ajax prouder than the cur Achilles, and will not arra to-day whereupon the Grecians begin to proclaim barbarism, and policy grows into an ill opinion. Soft! here come sleeve, and t'other.

Enter Diomedes, Troilus following. Tro. Fly not; for, should'st thou take the river [Styx,

Look, how thou diest! look, how thy eye turns I would swim after.
pale!

Look, how thy wounds do bleed at many vents!
Hark, how Troy roars! how Hecuba cries out!
How poor Andromache shrills her dolours forth
Behold, destruction, frenzy, and amazement,
Like witless antics, one another meet,
And all cry-Hector! Hector's dead! O, Hector!
Tro. Away!-away!-

Cas. Farewell.-Yet, soft: Hector, I take my

leave:

Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive. [exit. Hect. You are amaz'd, my liege, at her exclaim: Go in, and cheer the town; we'll forth, and fight; Do deeds worth praise, and tell you them at night.

Dio. Thou dost miscal retire:

I do not fly; but advantageous care
Withdrew me from the odds of multitude:
Have at thee!

Ther. Hold thy whore, Grecian! now for thy whore, Trojan !-now the sleeve, now the sleeve! [exeunt Troilus and Diomedes, fighting. Enter Hector.

Hect. What art thou, Greek? art thou for Hector's match?

Art thou of blood, and honour?

Ther. No, no;-I am a rascal; a scurvy rail. ing knave'; a very filthy rogue.

Hect. I do believe thee;-live.

Terit

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Nest. Go, bear Patroclus' body to Achilles; And bid the snail-pac'd Ajax arm for shame.There is a thousand Hectors in the field: Now here he fights on Galathe his horse, And there lacks work: anon, he's there afoot, And there they fly, or die, like scaled sculls, Before the belching whale; then is he yonder, And there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge, Fall down before him like the mower's swath: Here, there, and every where, he leaves, and takes; Dexterity so obeying appetite,

That what he will, he does; and does so much, That proof is call'd impossibility.

Enter Ulysses.

Ulyss. O courage, courage, princes! great Achilles

Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance : Patroclus' wounds have rous'd his drowsy blood, Together with his mangled Myrmidons,

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Dio. Troilus, I say! where's Troilus? Ajar. What would'st thou?

Dio. I would correct him.

my office,

Ajax. Were I the general, thou should'st have [Troilus: Ere that correction :-Troilus, I say! what, Enter Troilus.

Tro. O traitor, Diomed!-Turn thy false face, thou traitor,

And pay thy life thou ow'st me for my horse!
Dio. Ha! art thou there?

Ajax. I'll fight with him alone: stand, Diomed.
Dio. He is my prize, I will not look upon.
Tro. Come both, you cogging Greeks; have at
you both.
Lexeunt fighting.
Enter Hector.
Hect. Yea, Troilus? O, well fought, my youngest
brother!

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I would have been much more a fresher man, Had I expected thee.-How now, my brother? Re-enter Troilus.

Tro. Ajax hath ta'en Æneas; shall it be? No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven, He shall not carry him; I'll be taken too, Or bring him off:-Fate, hear me what I say I reck not though I end my life to-day. [exit.

Enter one in sumptuous armour. Hect. Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou art a goodly mark:-.

No? Wilt thou not?—I like thy armour well; I'll frush it, and unlock the rivets all,

That noseless, handless, hack'd and chipp'd, come But I'll be master of it-wilt thou not, beast,

to him,

Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend,
And foams at mouth, and he is arm'd, and at it,
Roaring for Troilus; who hath done to-day
Mad and fantastic execution:
Engaging and redeeming of himself,
With such a careless force, and forcelss care,
As if that luck, in very spite of cunning,
Bade him win all.

Enter Ajax.
Ajax. Troilus! thou coward Troilus'
Dio. Ay, there, there.

Nest. So, so, we draw together.
Enter Achilles.

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Enter Achilles, with Myrmidons.
Achil. Come here about me, you my Myrmidons;
Mark what I say.-Attend me where I wheel :
Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath;
And when I have the bloody Hector found,
Empale him with your weapons round about;
[erit. In fellest manner execute your arms.

Achil. Where is this Hector? Come, come, thou boy-queller, show thy face; Know what it is to meet Achilles angry. Hector! where's Hector? I wili none but Hector. [exeunt.

Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye: It is decreed-Hector the Great must die. [exeunt.

SCENE VIII. THE SAME.

Enter Menelaus and Paris, fighting: then, Thersites. Ther. The cuckold, and the cuckold-nakor, are at it: now, bull! now, dog! 'Loo, Paris, 'loo! Now, my double-henn'd sparrow! Loo,

Paris, 'loo! The bull has the game :- ware borns, ho!

[exeunt Par. & Men. Enter Margarelon.

Mar. Turn, slave, and fight.

Ther. What art thou?

Mar. A bastard son of Priam's.

Ther. I am a bastard too: I love bastards: I am a bastard begot, bastard instructed, bastard in mind, bastard in valour, in every thing illegitimate. One bear will not bite another, and wherefore should one bastard? Take heed, the quarrel's most ominous to us: if the son of a whore fight for a whore, he tempts judgment: farewell, bastard.

Mar. The devil take thee, coward!

[exeunt.

SCENE IX. ANOTHER PART OF THE FIELD.

Enter Hector.

Hect. Most putrified core, so fair without,
Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life.
Now is my day's work done; I'll take good breath:
Rest, sword: thou hast thy fill of blood and
death!

puts off his helmet, and hangs his shield behind him.
Enter Achilles and Myrmidons.

Achil. Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set;
How ugly night comes breathing at his heels:
Even with the vail and dark'ning of the sun,
To close the day up, Hector's life is done.
Hect. I am unarm'd; forego this 'vantage,
Greek.
[seek.
Achil. Strike, fellows, strike; this is the man I
[Hector falls.
So, Ilion, fall thou next! Now, Troy, sink down;
Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone:-
On, Myrmidons; and cry you all amain,
Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.

[retreat sounded.
Hark! A retreat upon our Grecian part.
Myr. The Trojau trumpets sound the like, my
lord.

Achil. The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the earth,

[fed,

And, stickler-like, the armies separates.
My half-supp'd sword, that frankly would have
I'leas'd with this dainty bit, thus goes to bed.—

SCENE XI. ANOTHER PART OF THE FIELD.

Enter Eneas and Trojans. [field:
Ene. Stand, ho! yet are we masters of the
Never go home; here starve we out the night.
Enter Troilus.

Tro. Hector is slain.

All. Hector?-The gods forbid!

[tail,

Tro. He's dead; and at the murderer's horse's
In beastly sort, dragg'd through the shameful
field.-
[speed!
Frown on, you heavens, effect your rage with
Sit, gods, upon your thrones, and smile at Troy!
I say, at once let your brief plagues be mercy,
And linger not our sure destruction on!

Ene. My lord, you do discomfort all the host.
Tro. You understand me not, that tell me so:
I do not speak of flight, of fear, of death;
But dare all imminence, that gods and men
Address their dangers in. Hector is gone!
Who shall tell Priam so, or Hecuba?
Let him, that will a screech-owl aye be call'd,
Go in to Troy, and say there-Hector's dead:
There is a word will Priam turn to stone;
Make wells and Niobes of the maids and wives,
Cold statues of the youth; and, in a word,
Scare Troy of itself. But, march, away:
Hector is dead; there is no more to say.
Stay yet;-You vile abominable tents,
Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian plains,
Let Titan rise as early as he dare, [siz'd coward!
I'll through and through you!-And thou, great-
No space of earth shall sunder our two hates;
I'll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still,
That mouldeth goblins swift as frenzy thoughts.—
Strike a free march to Troy!-With comfort go:
Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woc.

[exeunt Eneas and Trojans.
As Troilus is going out, enter, from the other side,
Pandarus.

Pan. But hear you, hear you!

Tro. Hence, broker lackey! ignomy and shamз
Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name.
[exit Troilus.

Pan. A goodly med'cine for my aching bones!
-O world! world! world! thus is the poor
agent despised! ( traitors and bawds, how ear-
[sheaths his sword.nestly are you set a'work, and how ill requited!

Come, tie his body to my horse's tail;
Along the field I will the Trojan trail. [ereunt.

SCENE X. THE SAME.

Enter Agamemnon, djur, Menelaus, Nestor, Dio-
medes, and others, marching. Shouts within.
Agam. Hark! hark! what shout is that?
Nest. Peace, drums.

[Within.] Achilles !

Achilles! Hector's slain! Achilles:

Why should our endeavour be so loved, and the
performance so loathed? What verse for it?
What instance for it? Let me see:-

Full merrily the humble-bee doth sing.
Till he hath lost his honey, and his sting:
And being once subdu'd in armed tail,
Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail.
Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted
As many as be here of pander's hall, [cloths.

Dio. The bruit is-Hector's slain, and by Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar's fall:

Achilles.

Ajax. If it be so, yet bragless let it be:

Great Hector was as good a man as he.

Or, if you cannot weep, yet give some groans,
Though nor for me, yet for your aching bones.
Brethren, and sisters, of the hold-door trade,

Agam. March patiently along:-Let one be Some two months hence my will shall here be

sent.

To pray Achilles see us at our tent:-
If in his death the gods have us befriended,
Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are ended.
[exeunt, marching.

made:

It should be now, but that my fear is this,—
Some galled goose of Winchester would hiss:
Till then I'll sweat, and seek about for eases;
And, at that time, bequeath you my diseases. [eril

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SCENE I. LONDON. A ROOM IN THE PALACE.

ACT I.

Enter King Henry, Westmoreland, Sir Walter Blunt, and others.

K. Hen. So shaken as we are, so wan with care, Find we a time for frighted peace to pant, And breathe short-winded accents of new broils To be commenc'd in stronds afar remote. No more the thirsty Erinnys of this soil Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood; No more shall trenching war channel her fields, Nor bruise her flowrets with the armed hoofs Of hos ile paces: those opposed eyes,

Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven,
All of one nature, of one substance bred,-
Did lately meet in the intestine shock
And furious close of civil butchery,
Shall now, in mutual, well-beseeming ranks,
March all one way; and be no more oppos'd
Against acquaintance, kindred, and allies:
The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife,
No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends,
As far as to the sepulchre of Christ
(Whose soldier now, under whose blessed_cross
We are impressed and engaged to fight),
Forthwith a power of English shall we levy;
Whose arms were moulded in their mothers'
womb,

To chase these pagans, in those holy fields,
Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet,
Which, fourteen hundred years ago, were nail'd

For our advantage, on the bitter cross.
But this our purpose is a twelvemonth old,
And bootless 'tis to tell you-we will go;
Therefore we meet not now:- -Then let me hear
Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland,
What yesternight our council did decree,
In forwarding this dear expedience.

West. My liege, this haste was hot in question,
And many limits of the charge set down
But yesternight: when, all athwart, there came
A post from Wales, loaden with heavy news;
Whose worst was,-that the noble Mortimer,
Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight
Against the irregular and wild Glendower,
Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken,
And a thousand of his people butchered:
Upon whose dead corps there was such misuse,
Such beastly, shameless transformation,
By those Welsh women done, as may not be,
Without much shame, re-told or spoken of.
K. Hen. It seems then, that the tidings of this
broil

Brake off our business for the Holy Land.

West. This, match'd with other, did, my gras cious lord;

For more uneven and unwelcome news
Came from the north, and thus it did import.
On Holy-rood day, the gallant Hotspur there,
Young Harry Percy, and brave Archibald,
That ever valiant and approved Scot,

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