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Troi. Befhrew the witch! with venomous wights she

stays,

As tedioufly as hell; but flies the grafps of love,
With wings more momentary-fwift than thought.
You will catch cold, and curfe me.

Cre. Pr'ythee, tarry;-you men will never tarry.
O foolish Creffida!-I might have still held off,

And then you would have tarry'd. Hark! there's one

up.

Pan. [within] What! all the doors open here?
Troi. It is your uncle.

Enter Pandarus.

Cre. A peftilence on him! now will he be mocking: I fhall have fuch a life,

Pan. How now, how now? how go maidenheads?— Here, you maid! where's my coufin Creffid?

Cre. Go hang yourfelf, you naughty mocking uncle! You bring me to do, and then you flout me too.

Pan. To do what? to do what?-let her fay what: What have I brought you to do?

Cre. Come, come; befhrew your heart! you'll ne'er be good,

Nor fuffer others.

h

Pan. Ha, ha! Alas, poor wench! a poor capocchia! -haft not flept to-night? would he not, a naughty man, let it fleep? a bugbear take him! [One knocks. Cre. Did not I tell you?-'would he were knock'd o'

the head!

Who's that at door? good uncle, go and fee.-
My lord, come you again into my chamber:

You fimile, and mock me, as if I meant naughtily.

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Troi. Ha! ha!

Cre. Come, you are deceiv'd, I think of no fuch

thing.

How earnestly they knock !-pray you, come in;

I would not for half Troy have you feen here.

[Knock. [Exeunt.

Pan. Who's there? what's the matter? will you beat down the door? How now? what's the matter?

Enter Eneas.

Ene. Good morrow, lord, good morrow.

Pan. Who's there? my lord Æneas? By my troth, I knew you not: What news with you fo early? Ene. Is not prince Troilus here?

Pan. Here! what fhould he do here?

Ene. Come, he is here, my lord, do not deny him! It doth import him much, to speak with me.

Pan. Is he here, fay you? 'tis more than I know, I'll be fworn: For my own part, I came in late :-What fhould he do here?

Ene. Who!nay, then :

:

Come, come, you'll do him wrong ere you are 'ware:
You'll be fo true to him, to be falfe to hims

Do not you know of him, but yet fetch him hither;

Go.

As Pandarus is going out, enter Troilus.

Troi. How now? what's the matter?

Ene. My lord, I scarce have leisure to falute you,

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My matter is fo rafh: There is at hand

Paris your brother, and Deiphobus,
The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor
Deliver'd to us; and for him forthwith,

fo rafb]-fudden.

Ere

Ere the first facrifice, within this hour,

We muft give up to Diomedes' hand
The lady Creffida.

Troi. Is it concluded fo?

Ene. By Priam, and the general ftate of Troy : They are at hand, and ready to effect it.

Troi. How my atchievements mock me!— I will go meet them; and, my lord Æneas,

We met by chance; you did not find me here,

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Ene. Good, good, my lord; the fecrets of nature Have not more gift in taciturnity.

Exeunt Troilus, and Eneas, Pan. Is't poflible? no fooner got, but loft? The devil take Antenor! the young prince will go mad. A plague upon Antenor! I would, they had broke's neck!

Enter Crefida.

Cre. How now? What is the matter? Who was here? Pan. Ah, ah!

Cre. Why figh you so profoundly? Where's my lord? gone?

Tell me, fweet uncle, what's the matter?

Pan. 'Would I were as deep under the earth, as I am above!

Cre. O the gods !-what's the matter?

Pan. Pr'ythee, get thee in; Would thou hadst ne'er been born! I knew, thou wouldst be his death;-O poor gentleman! A plague upon Antenor!

Cre. Good uncle, I befeech you on my knees,

Į beseech you, what's the matter?

Pan. Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone;

the fecrets of nature]-the moft fecret things in nature.-the fecrets of neighbour Pandar.—Pandar himself hath not a better knack at keep

ing fecrets,

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thou

thou art chang'd for Antenor: thou must to thy father, and be gone from Troilus; 'twill be his death; 'twill be his bane; he cannot bear it.

Cre. O you immortal gods !—I will not go.

Pan. Thou must. ›

Cre. I will not, uncle: I have forgot my father;
I know no touch of confanguinity;

No kin, no love, no biood, no foul fo near me,
As the fweet Troilus.-O you gods divine!
Make Creffid's name the very crown of falfhood,
If ever the leave Troilus! Time, force, and death,
Do to this body what extremes you can;

But the strong base and building of my love
Is as the very center of the earth,

Drawing all things to it.-I'll go in, and weep,
Pan. Do, do.

Cre. Tear my bright hair, and fcratch my praised

cheeks;

Crack my clear voice with fobs, and break my heart
With founding Troilus. I will not go from Troy.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Before Pandarus' House.

Enter Paris, Troilus, Æneas, Diomedes, &c.

Par. It is great morning; and the hour prefix'd Of her delivery to this valiant Greek

Comes fast upon:-Good my brother Troilus,

Tell you the lady what he is to do,
And hafte her to the purpose.

Troi. Walk in to her house;

I'll bring her to the Grecian presently:

It is great morning ;]-The morn is far advanced,

And

And to his hand when I deliver her,
Think it an altar; and thy brother Troilus
A priest, there offering to it his own heart.
Par. I know what 'tis to love;

And 'would, as I fhall pity, I could help!-
Please you, walk in, my lord.

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An Apartment in Pandarus' House.

Enter Pandarus, and Creffida,

Pan. Be moderate, be moderate,

Cre. Why tell you me of moderation?

The grief is fine, full, perfect, that I taste, "And violenteth in a fenfe as ftrong

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As that which caufeth it: How can I moderate it?

If I could temporize with my affection,

Or brew it to a weak and colder palate,
The like allayment could I give my grief:
My love admits no qualifying drofs;

No more my grief, in such a precious loss,

Enter Troilus,

Pan. Here, here, here he comes.-Ah fweet ducks!

Cre. O Troilus! Troilus!

Pan. What a pair of spectacles is here! Let me embrace too: O heart,-as the goodly saying is,—

o heart, o heavy heart,

Why figh'st thou without breaking?

where he answers again,

Because thou canst not eafe thy fmart,
By friendship, nor by Speaking.

violenteth]-acts as forcibly,

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