Ulys.

Stand where the torch may not discover us.

Troi.

Cressid come forth to him?

Dio.

How now, my charge?

Cre.

Now, my sweet guardian? Hark, a word with you.

Troi.

Yea, so familiar?

Ulys.

She will sing any man at first sight.

Ther.

And any man may sing her, if he can take ^{9 note}her cliff She's noted.

Dio.

Will you remember?

Cre.

Remember? yes.

Dio.

Nay, but do then; and let your mind be coupled with your words.

Troi.

What should she remember?

Ulys.

List.—

Cre.

Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly.

Ther.

Roguery—

Dio.

Nay, then,—

Cre.

I'll tell you what.

Dio.

Pho! pho! Come. Tell a pin. You are a forsworn—

Cre.
In faith, I can't. What would you have me do?

Ther.
A jugling trick, to be secretly open.

Dio.
What did you swear you would bestow on me?

Cre.
I pr'ythee, do not hold me to mine oath;
Bid me do any thing but that, sweet Greek.

Dio.

Good night.

Troi.

Hold, patience.

Ulys.

How now, Trojan?

Cre.

Diomede.—

Dio.

No, no, good night. I'll be your fool no more.

Troi.

Thy better must.

Cre.

Hark, one word in your ear.

Troi.

O plague, and madness!

Ulys.
You are mov'd, Prince. Let us depart, I pray you,
Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself
To wrathful terms. This place is dangerous;
The time right deadly. I beseech you, go.

Troi.
Behold, I pray you—

Ulys.
Good my Lord, go off.
^{1 note}

Troi.
I pr'ythee, stay.

Ulys.
You have not patience. Come.

Troi.
I pray you, stay. By hell, and by hell's torments,
I will not speak a word.

Dio.
And so, good night.

Cre.
Nay, but you part in anger?

Troi.
Doth that grieve thee? O wither'd truth!

Ulys.
Why, how now, Lord?

Troi.
By Jove, I will be patient.

Cre.
Guardian. Why, Greek.

Dio.
Pho, pho, adieu! You palter.

Cre.
In faith, I do not. Come hither once again.

Ulys.
You shake, my Lord, at something. Will you go?
You will break out.

Troi.
She strokes his cheek.

Ulys.
Come, come.

Troi.
Nay, stay. By Jove, I will not speak a word.
There is between my will and all offences
A guard of patience. Stay a little while.

Ther.

How the devil luxury with his fat rump and potatoe finger tickles these together! Fry, letchery, fry!

Dio.
But will you then?

Cre.
In faith, I will, lo; never trust me else.

Dio.
Give me some token for the surety of it.

Cre.
I'll fetch you one. [Exit.

Ulys.
You have sworn patience.

Troi.
Fear me not, sweet Lord.
I will not be myself, nor have cognition
Of what I feel. I am all patience.

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