Half heart, half hand, half Hector comes to seek This blended knight, half Trojan, and half Greek. Achil. A maiden battle then?-O, I perceive you.

Re-enter DIOMED.

Agam. Here is sir Diomed: - 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 uttermost,

Or else a breath: the combatants being kin, Half stints their strife before their strokes begin. [AJAX and HECTOR enter the lists.

Ulyss. They are oppos'd already. Agam. What Trojan is that same that looks so heavy?

Ulyss. The youngest son of Priam, a true knight;
Not yet mature, yet matchless: firm of word;
Speaking in deeds, and deedless in his tongue;
Not soon provok'd, nor, being provok'd, soon
calm'd:

His heart and hand both open, and both free;
For what he has, he gives; what thinks, he shows;
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 objects; but he, in heat of action,
Is more vindicative than jealous love:
They call him Troilus; and on him erect
A second hope, as fairly built as Hector.
Thus says Eneas; one that knows the youth
Even to his inches, and, with private soul,
Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me.
[Alarum. HECTOR and AJAX fight.
Agam. They are in action.
Nest. Now, Ajax, hold thine own!
Hector, thou sleep'st:

Tro.

Awake thee!

Princes, enough, so please you. Ajar. I am not warm yet, let us fight again. Dia. As Hector pleases.

Hect.

Why then, will I no more :Thou art, great lord, my father's sister's son, A cousin-german to great Priam's seed; The obligation of our blood forbids

A gory emulation 'twixt us twain:

Were thy commixtion Greek and Trojan so,

That thou could'st say This hand is Grecian all,
And this is Trojan; the sinews of this leg
All Greek, and this all Troy; my mother's blood
Runs on the dexter check, and this sinister
Bounds-in my father's; by Jove multipotent,
Thou should'st not bear from me a Greekish member
Wherein my sword had not impressure made
Of our rank feud: But the just gods gainsay,
That any drop thou borrow'st from thy mother,
My sacred aunt, should by my mortal sword
Be drain'd! Let me embrace thee, Ajax :
By him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms;
Hector would have them fall upon him thus:
Cousin, all honour to thee!

Ajar.
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 so mirable

Cries, This is he,) could promise to himself
A thought of added honour torn from Ilector.
Ene. There is expectance here from both the sides,
What further you will do.

Hect.

We'll answer it;

The issue is embracement: - Ajax, farewell. - Ajar. If I might in entreaties find success, (As seld' I have the chance,) I would desire My famous cousin to our Grecian tents.

Dio. 'Tis Agamemnon's wish, and great Achilles
Doth long to see unarm'd the valiant Hector.
Hect. Æneas, call my brother Troilus to me:
And signify this loving interview

To the expecters of our Trojan part;
Desire them home. - Give me thy hand, my cousin ;
I will go eat with thee, and see your knights.

Ajax. Great Agamemnon comes to meet us here. Hect. The worthiest of them tell me name by name;

But for Achilles, my own searching eyes
Shall find him by his large and portly size.

Agam. Worthy of arms! as welcome as to one That would be rid of such an enemy;

But that's no welcome: Understand more clear What's past, and what's to come, is strew'd with husks

And formless ruin of oblivion;

But in this extant moment, faith and troth, Strain'd purely from all hollow bias-drawing, Bids thee, with most divine integrity, From heart of very heart, great Hector, welcome. Hect. I thank thee, most imperious Agamemnon, dqam. My well-fam'd lord of Troy, no less to you. [TO TROILUS. Men. Let me confirm my princely brother's greeting; You brace of warlike brothers, welcome hither. Hect. Whom must we answer?

Men.

The noble Menelaus. Hect. O you, my lord? by Mars his gauntlet, thanks!

Mock not, that I affect the untraded oath;
Your quondam wife swears still by Venus' glove:
She's well, but bade me not commend her to you.
Men. Name her not now, sir; she's a deadly

theme.

fect. O, pardon; I offend.

Nest. I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft, Labouring for destiny, make cruel way

Through ranks of Greekish youth; and I have seen

thee,

As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed,
Despising many forfeits and subduements,
When thou hast hung thy advanced sword i'the air,
Not letting it decline on the declin'd;
That I have said to some my standers-by,
Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life!

And I have seen thee pause, and take thy breath,
When that a ring of Greeks have hemm'd thee in,
Like an Olympian wrestling: This have I seen;
But this thy countenance, still lock'd in steel,
I never saw till now. I knew thy grandsire,
And once fought with him: he was a soldier good;
But, by great Mars, the captain of us all,
Never like thee: Let an old man embrace thee;
And, worthy warrior, welcome to our tents.
Ene. 'Tis the old Nestor.

Hect. Let me embrace thee, good old chronicle, That hast so long walk'd hand in hand with time:

Tt

By this white beard, I'd fight with thee to-morrow.
Well, welcome, welcome! I have seen the time
Ulyss. I wonder now how yonder city stands,
When we have here her base and pillar by us.
Hect. I know your favour, lord Ulysses, well.
Ah, sir, there's many a Greek and Trojan dead,
Since first I saw yourself and Diomed
In Ilion, on your Greekish embassy.

Where thou wilt hit me dead?

Ajax.

Do not chafe thee, cousin ;

ensue :

My prophecy is but half his journey yet;

For yonder walls, that pertly front your town,
Yon towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds,
Must kiss their own feet.

Hect.

I must not believe you:
There they stand yet; and modestly I think,
The fall of every Phrygian stone will cost

A drop of Grecian blood: The end crowns all;
And that old common arbitrator, time,
Will one day end it.

Ulyss.
So to him we leave it.
Most gentle, and most valiant Hector, welcome:
After the general, I beseech you next

To feast with me, and see me at my tent.

Achil. I shall forestall thee, lord Ulysses, thou! Now, Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee: I have with exact view perus'd thee, Hector, And quoted joint by joint.

Hect.

Is this Achilles?

Achil. I am Achilles.
Hect. Stand fair, I pray thee: let me look on thee.
Achil. Behold thy fill.

Hect.
Nay, I have done already.
Achil. Thou art to brief; I will the second
time,

As I would buy thee, view thee limb by limb.

Hect. O, like a book of sport thou'lt read me o'er;
But there's more in me, than thou understand'st.
Why dost thou so oppress me with thine eye?
Achil. Tell me, you heavens, in which part of
his body

Shall I destroy him? whether there, there, or there?
That I may give the local wound a name;
And make distinct the very breach whereout
Hector's great spirit flew: Answer me, heavens!
Hect. It would discredit the bless'd gods, proud

man,

To answer such a question: Stand again: Think'st thou to catch my life so pleasantly,

There in the full convive we: afterwards,
As Hector's leisure, and your bounties shall
Concur together, severally entreat him. —
Beat loud the tabourines, let the trumpets blow,
That this great soldier may his welcome know.

[Exeunt all but TROILUS and ULYSSES Tro. My lord Ulysses, tell me, I beseech you,' In what place of the field doth Calchas keep?

Ulyss. At Menelaus' tent, most princely Troilus: There Diomed doth feast with him to-night; Who neither looks upon the heaven, nor earth, But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view On the fair Cressid.

Tro. Shall I, sweet lord, be bound to you so much, After we part from Agamemnon's tent, To bring me thither?

Ulyss. You shall command me, As gentle tell me, of what honour was This Cressida in Troy? Had she no lover there, That wails her absence?

Tro. O, sir, to such as boasting show their scars, A mock is due. Will you walk on, my lord? She was belov'd, she lov'd; she is, and doth: But, still, sweet love is food for fortune's tooth.

SCENE I.-The Grecian Camp. Before Achilles'

Tent.

Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS.

Achil. I'll heat his blood with Greekish wine tonight,

Which with my scimitar I'll cool to-morrow. -
Patroclus, let us feast him to the height.
Patr. Here comes Thersites.

Achil

How now, thou core of envy Thou crusty batch of nature, what's the news? Ther. Why, thou picture of what thou seeme and idol of idiot worshippers, here's a letter for the Achil. From whence, fragment?

Ther. Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy. Patr. Who keeps the tent now?

Ther. The surgeon's box, or the patient's woun

Enter ACHILLES.

Patr. Well said, Adversity! and what need these tricks?

Ther. Pr'ythee be silent, boy; I profit not by thy talk: thou art thought to be Achilles' male varlet.

Patr. Male varlet, you rogue! what's that?

Ther. Why, his masculine whore. Now the rotten diseases of the south, the guts griping, ruptures, catarrhs, loads o'gravel i'the back, lethargies, cold palsies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten livers, wheezing lungs, bladders full of imposthume, sciaticas, limekilns i'the palm, incurable bone-ach, and the rivelled fee-simple of the tetter, take and take again such preposterous discoveries!

Patr. Why thou damnable box of envy, thou, what meanest thou to curse thus ?

Ther. Do I curse thee?

Patr. Why, no, you ruinous butt; you whoreson indistinguishable cur, no.

Ther. No? why art thou then exasperate, thou idle immaterial skein of sleive silk, thou green sarcenet flap for a sore eye, thou tassel of a prodigal's purse, thou? Ah, how the poor world is pestered with such water-flies; diminutives of nature! Patr. Out, gall! Ther. Finch egg!

Achil. My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted
quite

From my great purpose in to-morrow's battle.
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, Greeks: fail, fame; honour, or go, or stay;
My major vow lies here, this I'll obey..
Come, come, Thersites, help to trim my tent;
This night in banqueting must all be spent.
Away, Patroclus.

[Exeunt ACHILLES and PATROCLUS. Ther. With too much blood, and too little brain, these two may run mad; but if with too much brain, and too little blood, they do, I'll be a curer of madmen. Here's Agamemnon,- -an honest fel* low enough, and one that loves quails; but he has not so much brain as ear-wax: And the goodly transformation of Jupiter there, his brother, the bull,the primitive statue, and oblique memorial of cuckolds; a thrifty shoeing-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 ass and ox: to an ox were nothing; he is both ox and ass. To be a dog, a mule, a cat, a fitchew, a toad, a lizard, an owl, a puttock, or a herring without a roe, I would not care: but to be Menelaus, I would conspire against destiny. Ask me not what I would be, if I were not Thersites; for I care not to be the louse of a lazar, so I were not Menelaus. — Hey-day! spirits and fires!

And welcome, both to those that go, or tarry.
Agam. Good night.

[Exeunt AGAMEMNON and MENELAUS. Achil. Old Nestor tarries; and you too, Diomed, Keep Hector company an hour or two.

Dio. I cannot, lord; I have important business, The tide whereof is now.-Good night, great Hector. Hect. Give me your hand. Follow his torch, he goes

Ulyss.

To Calchas' tent; I'll keep you company.
[Aside to TROIlus.

Tro. Sweet sir, you honour me.
Hect.

And so good night. [Erit DIOMED; ULYSS. and TRO. following, Achil. Come, come, enter my tent.

[Exeunt ACHIL. HECTOR, AJAX, and NEST. Ther. That same Diomed'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 hisses: he will spend his mouth, and promise, like Brabler the hound; but when he performs, astronomers foretell it; it is prodigious, there will come some change; the sun borrows of the moon, when Diomed keeps his word. I will rather leave to see Hector, than not to dog him: they say, he keeps a Trojan drab, and uses the traitor Calchas' tent: I'll after. Nothing but lechery! all incontinent varlets! [Exit,

Enter TROILUS and ULYSSES, at a distance; after them THERSITES.

Ulyss. Stand where the torch may not discover us.
Enter CRESSIDA.

Tro. Cressid, come forth to him!
Dio.

How now, my charge? Cres. Now my sweet guardian! - Hark! a word with you. [Whispers.

Tro. Yea, so familiar!

Ulyss. She will sing any man at first sight.

Ther. And any man may sing her, if he can take

Dio. Will you remember?

No, yonder 'tis ;

Cres.

Remember? yes.

Dio.

Nay, but do then;

I trouble you.

Ajaz. No, not a whit.

Ulyss

Dio. Whose was't? Cres.

No matter, now I have't again. I will not meet with you to-morrow night: I pr'ythee, Diomed, visit me no more. Ther. Now she sharpens; Well said, whet

stone.

Dio. I shall have it.

Cres.

Dio.

What, this?

Ay, that. pretty pretty

Cres. You shall not have it, Diomed; 'faith you shall not;

I'll give you something else.

Dio. I will have this; Whose was it?
Cres.

'Tis no matter.

Dio. Come, tell me whose it was.
Cres. 'Twas one's that loved me better than you

will.
But, now you have it, take it.

Dio.
Whose was it?
Cres. By all Diana's waiting-women, yonder,
And by herself, I will not tell you whose.

Dio. To-morrow will I wear it on my helm;
And grieve his spirit, that dares not challenge it.
Tro. Wert thou the devil, and wor'st it on thy
horn,
It should be challeng'd.

Cres. Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis past;- And yet it is not;

I will not keep my word.

Dio.

Why then, farewell; Thou never shalt mock Diomed again. Cres. You shall not go:- - One cannot speak word,

But it straight starts you.

Dio.
I do not like this foolia
Ther. Nor I, by Pluto: but that that likes t
you, pleases me best.

Dio. What, shall I come? the hour?
Cres.

Ay, come :-O Josg

Do come :- I shall be plagu'd.

Dio. Farewell till the Cres. Good night. I pr'ythee, come. —

[Eri DIOMED Troilus, farewell! one eye yet looks on thee; But with my heart the other eye doth see. Ah! poor our sex! this fault in us I find, The error of our eye directs our mind: What error leads, must err; O then conclude, Minds, sway'd by eyes, are full of turpitude. [Erit Carss

Ther. A proof of strength she could not publi