LITMIR.BIZ

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So mainly as my merit. I cannot sing,

       Nor heel the high lavolt, nor sweeten talk,

       Nor play at subtle games; fair virtues all,

       To which the Grecians are most prompt and pregnant;

       But I can tell that in each grace of these

       There lurks a still and dumb-discoursive devil

       That tempts most cunningly. But be not tempted.

       CRESSIDA.

       Do you think I will?

       TROILUS.

       No.

       But something may be done that we will not;

       And sometimes we are devils to ourselves,

       When we will tempt the frailty of our powers,

       Presuming on their changeful potency.

       AENEAS.

       [Within.] Nay, good my lord!

       TROILUS.

       Come, kiss; and let us part.

       PARIS.

       [Within.] Brother Troilus!

       TROILUS.

       Good brother, come you hither;

       And bring Aeneas and the Grecian with you.

       CRESSIDA.

       My lord, will you be true?

       TROILUS.

       Who, I? Alas, it is my vice, my fault!

       Whiles others fish with craft for great opinion,

       I with great truth catch mere simplicity;

       Whilst some with cunning gild their copper crowns,

       With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare.

       Fear not my truth: the moral of my wit

       Is plain and true; there’s all the reach of it.

       [Enter AENEAS, PARIS, ANTENOR, DEIPHOBUS, and DIOMEDES.]

       Welcome, Sir Diomed! Here is the lady

       Which for Antenor we deliver you;

       At the port, lord, I’ll give her to thy hand,

       And by the way possess thee what she is.

       Entreat her fair; and, by my soul, fair Greek,

       If e’er thou stand at mercy of my sword,

       Name Cressid, and thy life shall be as safe

       As Priam is in Ilion.

       DIOMEDES.

       Fair Lady Cressid,

       So please you, save the thanks this prince expects.

       The lustre in your eye, heaven in your cheek,

       Pleads your fair usage; and to Diomed

       You shall be mistress, and command him wholly.

       TROILUS.

       Grecian, thou dost not use me courteously

       To shame the zeal of my petition to thee

       In praising her. I tell thee, lord of Greece,

       She is as far high-soaring o’er thy praises

       As thou unworthy to be call’d her servant.

       I charge thee use her well, even for my charge;

       For, by the dreadful Pluto, if thou dost not,

       Though the great bulk Achilles be thy guard,

       I’ll cut thy throat.

       DIOMEDES.

       O, be not mov’d, Prince Troilus.

       Let me be privileg’d by my place and message

       To be a speaker free: when I am hence

       I’ll answer to my lust. And know you, lord,

       I’ll nothing do on charge: to her own worth

       She shall be priz’d. But that you say ‘Be’t so,’

       I speak it in my spirit and honour, ‘No.’

       TROILUS.

       Come, to the port. I’ll tell thee, Diomed,

       This brave shall oft make thee to hide thy head.

       Lady, give me your hand; and, as we walk,

       To our own selves bend we our needful talk.

       [Exeunt TROILUS, CRESSIDA, and DIOMEDES.]

       [Sound trumpet.]

       PARIS.

       Hark! Hector’s trumpet.

       AENEAS.

       How have we spent this morning!

       The Prince must think me tardy and remiss,

       That swore to ride before him to the field.

       PARIS.

       ‘Tis Troilus’ fault. Come, come to field with him.

       DEIPHOBUS.

       Let us make ready straight.

       AENEAS.

       Yea, with a bridegroom’s fresh alacrity

       Let us address to tend on Hector’s heels.

       The glory of our Troy doth this day lie

       On his fair worth and single chivalry.

       [Exeunt.]

      SCENE 5. The Grecian camp. Lists set out

       [Enter AJAX, armed; AGAMEMNON, ACHILLES, PATROCLUS, MENELAUS,

       ULYSSES, NESTOR, and others.]

       AGAMEMNON.

       Here art thou in appointment fresh and fair,

       Anticipating time with starting courage.

       Give with thy trumpet a loud note to Troy,

       Thou dreadful Ajax, that the appalled air

       May pierce the head of the great combatant,

       And hale him hither.

       AJAX.

       Thou, trumpet, there’s my purse.

       Now crack thy lungs and split thy brazen pipe;

       Blow, villain, till thy sphered bias cheek

       Outswell the colic of puff’d Aquilon.

       Come, stretch thy chest, and let thy eyes spout blood:

       Thou blowest for Hector.

       [Trumpet sounds.]

       ULYSSES.

       No trumpet answers.

       ACHILLES.

       ‘Tis but early days.

       [Enter DIOMEDES, with CRESSIDA.]

       AGAMEMNON.

       Is not yond Diomed, with Calchas’ daughter?

       ULYSSES.

       ‘Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait:

       He rises on the toe. That spirit of his

       In aspiration lifts him from the earth.

       [Enter DIOMEDES with CRESSIDA.]

       AGAMEMNON.

       Is this the lady Cressid?

       DIOMEDES.

       Even she.

       AGAMEMNON.

       Most dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet lady.

       NESTOR.

       Our general doth salute you with a kiss.

       ULYSSES.

       Yet is the kindness

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