Welcome, Sir Diomede; here is the lady,
Whom 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.

Diom.
Lady Cressid,
So please you, save the thanks this prince expects:
The lustre in your eye, heav'n in your cheek,
Pleads your fair usage; and to Diomede
You shall be mistress, and command him wholly.

Troi.
Grecian, thou dost not use me courteously,
To shame the seal of my petition towards thee
By 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,
(Tho' the great bulk Achilles be thy guard)
I'll cut thy throat.

Diom.
Oh 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 list: and know, my lord,
I'll nothing do on charge; to her own worth
She shall be priz'd: but that you say, be't so;
I'll speak it in my spirit and honour—no.

Troi.
Come to the port—I'll tell thee, Diomede,
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. [Sound trumpet.

Par.
Hark, Hector's trumpet!

Æne.
How have we spent this morning?
The Prince must think me tardy and remiss,
That swore to ride before him in the field.

Par.
'Tis Troilus' fault. Come, come to field with him.

Diom.
Let us make ready strait.

Æne.
Yea, with a bridegroom's fresh alacrity
Let us address to tend on Hector's heels:
The glory of our Troy doth this day lye
On his fair worth, and single chivalry. [Exeunt.

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