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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,
And with another knot, five-finger-tied,
Tro. Ay, Greek; and that shall be divulged well,
Hark, Greek ;-As much as I do Cressid love,
Were it a casque* compos'd by Vulcan's skill,
Ther. He'll tickle it for his concupy +. Tro. O Cressid! O false Cressid! false, false, false !
Let all untruths stand by thy stained name,
O, contain yourself;
Ene. I have been seeking you this hour, my lord: Hector, by this, is arming him in Troy; Ajax, your guard, stays to conduct you home.
Tro. Have with you, prince :-My courteous lord, adieu :
Farewell, revolted fair!—and, Diomed,
[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 burning devil take them!
TROILUS & CRESSIDA.
WORDS WORDS MERE WORDS, NO MATTER FROM THE HEART;
London:Published by Thomas Tegg NIII. Cheapside, July, 11814.
Printed by Diven & Son
Troy. Before Priam's palace.
Enter Hector and Andromache.
And. When was my lord so much ungently temper'd,
To stop his ears against admonishment?
Hect. You train me to offend you; get you in :
Hect. No more, I say.
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 dream'd Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter. Cas. O, it is true.
Ho! bid my trumpet sound! Cas. No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet brother.
Hect. Begone, I say: the gods have heard me
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.
Cas. It is the purpose that makes strong the vow; But vows, to every purpose, must not hold :