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Ther. Why, thou full dish of Fool, from Troy.
Patr. Who keeps the Tent now?
Ther. The Surgeon's Box, or the Patient's Wound.
Patr. Well Said, Adversity; and what need these Tricks

Ther. Prithee be silent, Boy, I profit not by thy talk, Thou art thought to be Achilles's Male:Varlet.

Patr. Male-Varlet, you Rogue? What's that?

Ther. Wby, his masculine Whore. Now the rotted Diseases of the South, Guts-griping, Ruptures, Catarrhs, loads o'Gravel i'th' Backs, Lethargies, cold Pallies, and the like, take and take again such preposterous Discoveries,

Potr. Why, thou damnable Box of Envy, thou, what mean'st thou to Curse thus?

Ther. Do I curse thee? Patr. Why no, you ruinous Butt, you whoreson indiftinguishable Cur.

Ther. No? Why art thou then exasperate, thou idle ima matterial Skein of sley'd Silk; thou green Sarcenet flap for a fore Eye; thou Tassel of a Prodigal's purse, thou? Ah, how the poor World is pestred with such Water-flies, dimidutives of Nature.

Patr. Out Gall!
Ther. Finch Egg!

Achil. My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite
From my great purpose in to morrow's Battel:
Here is a Letter from Queen Hecuba,
A Token from her Daughter, my fair Love,
Both taxing me, and gaging me to keep
An Oath that I have sworn. I will not break it,
Fall Greek, fail Fame, Honour, or go, or stay,
My major Vow lyes here; this I'll obey :
Come, come, Thersites, help to trim my Tent,
This Night in Banqueting must all be spent.
Away, Patroclus.

[Exit. Ther. With too much Blood, and too little Braio, these two may run mad: But if with too much Brain, and too little Blood, they do, I'll be a Curer of Mad-men. Here's

Agamemnon, an honest Fellow enough, and one that loves Quails, but he has not so much Brain as Ear-wax; and the good Transformation of Jupiter there his Brother, the Bull, the primitive Statue, and oblique Memorial of Cuckolds,

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a thrifty shooting-horn in a Chain, hanging at his Brother's
Leg; to what Form, but that he is, should Wit larded with
Malice, and Malice forced with Wit turn him to? to an Ass
were nothing, he is both Afsand Ox; to an Ox were nothing,
he is both Ox and Ass; to be a Dog, a Mule, a Cat, &
Fitchew, a Toad, a Lizard, an Owl, a Puttock, or a Her-
ring without a Roe, I would not care: But to be Mene-
laus, I would conspire against Destiny. Ask me not what
I would be, if I were Therfites; for I care not to be the
Lowse of a Lazar, fo I were not Menelaus. Hoy-day, Spi-
rits and Fires,
Enter He&or, Ajax, Agamemnon, Ulysses, Nestor, and

Diomede, with Lights.
Aga. We'go wrong, we go wrong.
Ajax. No, yonder 'tis, there where we see the light.
Hect, I trouble you.
Ajax. No, not a whit.

Enter Achilles.
Ulys. Here comes himself to guide you.
Achil. Welcome brave Hector, welcome Princes all.

Aga. So, now fair Prince of Troy, I bid good Night,
Ajax commands the Guard to tend on you.
Hect. Thanks, and good Night to the Greek's General.
Men, Good Night, my Lord.
Hect. Good Night, sweet Lord Menelaus.

Ther. Sweet Draught----[weet quoth a---sweet Sink, sweet Sewer.

Achil. Good Night, and welcome, both at once, to those that go or tarry.

Aga. Good Night.

Achil. Old Nestor tarries, and you too, Diomede, Keep Hector Company an hour or two.

Dio. I cannot, Lord, I have important Business, The tide whereof is now; Good Night, great Hector.

Hett. Give me your Hand.

Ulys. Follow his Torch, he goes to Calchas's Tent,
I'll keep you Company.

[To Troilus.
Troi. Sweet Sir, you honour me.
He£t. And so good Night.
Arbit. Come, come, enter my Tent.

[Exeunt.

Ther.

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Ther. That same Diomede's a false-hearted Rogue, a most unjust Knave; I will no more trust him when he leers, than I will a Serpent when he hiffes: He will spend his Mouth and Promise, like Brabler the Hound; but when he performs, Astrooiers foretel it, that it is prodigious, there will come some change: The Sun borrows of the Moon, when Diomede keeps his Word. I will rather leave to see He&tor, than not to dog him: They say, he keeps a Trojan Drab, and uses the Traitor Culchas his Tent. l'll after Nothing but Lechery; all incontinent Varlets. [Exenne. SCENE II.

Calchas Tent.

Enter Diomede. Dio. What are you up here, ho ? speak. Cal. Who calls? Dio. Diomede ; Calchas, I think; where's your Daughter? Cal. She comes to you,

Enter Troilus and Ulysses, after them Thersites. Ulys. Stand where the Torch may not discover us.

Enter Creflid. Troi. Cresid, come forth to him! Dio. How now, my charge? Cre. Now my sweet Guardian; hark, a word with you.

[Whispers. Troi. Yea, fo familiar? Ulys. She will fing to any Man at first sight.

Ther. And any Man may find her, if he can take her life: she's noted. Dio. Will

you

remember? Cre, Remember? yes. Dio. Nay, but do then; and let your mind be coupled with your words.

Troi. What should the remember?
Ulys, Lift.
Cre. Sweet, Honey Greek, tempt me no more to Folly.
Ther. Roguery-
Dio. Nay, then.
Cre. I'll tell you what.
Dio. Fo, fo, come tell a pin, you are a forsworn-

Cre.

Cre. In Faith I cannot: what would you have me do 3
Ther. A jugling Trick, to be secretly open.
Dio. What did you swear you would bestow on me?

Cre. I prichee do not hold me to mine Oath;
Bid me do any thing but that, sweet Greek.

Dio. Good Night.
Troi. Hold, Patience
Ulys. How now, Trojan?
Cre, Diomede.
Dio. No, no, good Night: I'll be your Fool no more.
Troi. Thy better must.
Cre. Hark, one word in your Ear. .
Troi. O Plague and Madness!

Vlyf. You are mov'd, Prince; let us depart, I pray you;
Left your displeasure should enlarge it self
To wrathful Terms: this place is dangerous ;
The time right deadly: I beseech you go.

Troi. Behold, I pray you

Ulys. Nay, good my Lord go off:
You flow to great distraction : Come, my Lord.

Troi. I pray thee stay?
Ulys. You have not patience; come.

Troi. I pray you stay; by Hell, and Hell's Torments, I will not speak a word.

Dio. And so good Night.
Cre. Nay, but you 'part in anger.
Troi. Doth that grieve thee? O wither'd truth!
Ulys. Why, how now, Lord?
Troi. By Jove, I will be patient.
Cre. Guardian why, Greek-
Dio. Fo, fo, adieu, you palter,
Cre. In Faith, I do not : come hither once again.

vlys. You shake, my Lord, at something; will you go! You will break out.

Troi. She stroaks his Cheek.
Ulys. 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.

Thet

Ther. How the Devil Luxury with his fat Rump, and Potato Finger, tickles these together : Fry, Letchery, fry.

Dio. But will you then?
Cre. In Faith I will come ; never trust me else.
Dio. Give me some token for the surety of it.
Cre. I'll fetch you one.

[Exit. Ulys. You have sworn patience.

Troi. Fear me not, sweet Lord,
I will not be my self, nor have cognition
Of what I feel : I am all Patience.

Enter Crellida.
Ther. Now the Pledge, now, now, now.
Cre. Here, Diomede, keep this Sleeve.
Troi. O Beauty! where is thy Faith?
Vlyf. My Lord.
Troi. I will be patient, outwardly I will.

Cre. You look upon that Sleeve; behold it well:
He lov'd me :... falfe Wench:...Give't me again.

Dio. Whose was't?

Cre. It is no matter now I have't again,
I will not meet with you to morrow Night:
I prithee, Diomede, visit me no more.

Ther. Now she sharpens : well said Whetstone.
Dio. I shall have it.
Cre. What, this?
Dio, Ay, that.

Cre. O all you Gods O pretty, pretty Pledge;
Thy Master now lyes thinking in his Bed,
Of thee and me, and fighs, and takes my

Glove,
And gives memorial dainty Killes to it:
As I kiss thee.

Dio, Nay, do not snatch it from me.
Cre. He thar takes that, takes my Heart withal.
Dio. I had your Heart before, this follows it.
Troi. I did fwear Patience.

Cre. You shall not have it, Diomede : 'Faith you shall not, I'll give you something else.

Dio. I will have this: Whose was it ?
Cre. It is no matter.
VOL IV.

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