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Health to you, valiant sir, During all question* of the gentle truce: But when I meet you arm'd, as black defiance, As heart can think, or courage execute.
Dio. The one and other Diomed embraces. Our bloods are now in calm; and, so long, health: But when contention and occasion meet, By Jove, I'll play the hunter for thy life, With all my force, pursuit, and policy.
With his face backward. In humane gentleuess,
Dio. We synipathise :-Jove, let Æneas live,
Æne. We know each other well.
Par. This is the most despiteful gentle greeting,
not. Par. His purpose meets you; 'Twas to bring this
Greek To Calchas' house; and there to render him, For the enfreed Antenor, the fair Cressid: Let's have your company; or, if you please, Haste there before us: I constantly do think (Or, rather, call my thought a certain knowledge), My brother Troilus lodges there to-night; Rouse him, and give him note of our approach, With the whole quality wherefore : I fear, We shall be much unwelcome.
That I assure you;
There is no help;
(Exit. Par. And tell me, noble Diomed ; 'faith, tell me
Par. You are too bitter to your countrywoman.
Par. Fair Diomed, you do as chapmen do,
The same. Court before the house of Pandarus.'
Enter Troilus and Cressida. Tro. Dear, trouble not yourself; the morn is cold, Cres. Then, sweet my lord, I'll call mine uncle
Trouble him not;
Good morrow then,
Are you aweary of me? Tro. O Cressida! but that the busy day, Wak'd by the lark, hath rous'the ribald* crows, And dreaming night will hide our joys no longer, I would not from thee. Cres.
Night hath been too brief. Tro. Beshrew the witch! with venomous wights
she stays, As tediously as hell; but flies the grasps of love, With wings more momentary-swift than thought. You will catch cold, and curse me. Cres.
Pr'ythee, tarry; You men will never tarry. O foolish Cressid !-I might have still held off, And then you would have tarried. Hark! there's
one up. Pan. (Wilhin.) What, are all the doors open here? Tro. It is your uncle.
• To do is here used in a wanton sense,
Tro. How now? what's the matter?
Æne. My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you, My matter is so rash: There is at hand Paris your brother, and Deiphobus, The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor Deliver'd to us; and for him forthwith, Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour, We must give up to Diomedes' hand The lady Cressida. Tro.
Is it so concluded? Æne. By Priam, and the general state of Troy: They are at hand, and ready to effect it.
Tro. How my achievements mock me! I will go meet them; and, my lord Æneas, We met by chance; you did not find me here, Æne. Good, good, my lord; the secrets of na
ture Have not more gift in taciturnity.
[Exeunt Troilus and Æneas. Pan. Is't possible ? no sooner got, but lost? The devil take Antenor! the young prince will go mad. A plague upon Antenor: I would, they had broke's neck !