From falfe to false, among false maids in love, Pan. Go to, a bargain made: feal it, feal it, I'll be the witnefs.- Here I hold your hand; here my coufin's; if ever you prove falfe to one another, fince i have taken fuch pains to bring you together, let all pitiful Goers-between be call'd to the world's end after my name; call them all Pandars: let all constant men be Troilus's, all falfe women Creffida's, and all brokers-between Pandars; fay, Amen. Troi. Amen! Cre. Amen! Pan. Amen. Whereupon I will fhew you a bedchamber; which bed, because it shall not speak of your pretty encounters, prefs it to death: away. And Cupid grant all tongue-ty'd maidens here, [Exeunt. SCENE changes to the Grecian Camp. Enter Agamemnon, Ulyffes, Diomedes, Neftor, Ajax, Menelaus and Calchas. Cal. N Th advantage of the time prompts me aloud To call for recompenfe: appear it to you, I I do beseech you, as in way of taste, Out of those many regiftred in promife, Aga. What wouldst thou of us, Trojan? make demand. Cal. You have a Trojan prifoner, call'd Antenor, Yesterday took: Troy holds him very dear. Oft have you (often have you thanks therefore ;) Defir'd my Crefid in right-great exchange, Whom Troy hath ftill deny'd: but this Antenor, I know, is fuch a wreft in their affairs, That their negotiations all must flack, Wanting his Manage; and they will almost Give us a Prince o'th' blood, a son of Priam, In change of him. Let him be fent, great Princes, And he shall buy my daughter: and her presence Shall quite ftrike off all fervice I have done, In most accepted pain. Aga. Let Diomedes bear him, And bring us Creffid hither: Calchas shall have Dio. This fhall I undertake, and 'tis a burthen Enter Achilles and Patroclus, before their Tent. To ufe between your ftrangeness and his pride, Aga Aga. We'll execute your purpose, and put on Acbil. What, comes the General to speak with me? You know my mind. I'll fight no more 'gainst Troy. Aga. What fays Achilles? would he aught with us? Neft. Would you, my lord, aught with the General ? Achil. No. Neft. Nothing, my lord. Aga. The better. Achil. Good day, good day." Men. How do you? how do you? Achil. What does the cuckold fcorn me? Ajax. How now, Patroclus ?: Achil. Good morrow, Ajax. Ajax. Ha? Achil. Good morrow. Ajax. Ay, and good next day too. [Exe Achil. What mean thefe fellows? know they not Achilles? Patr. They pafs by ftrangely: they were us'd to bend,. To fend their fimiles before them to Achilles, To come as humbly as they us'd to creep To holy altars. Achil. What, am I poor of late; 'Tis certain, Greatnefs, once fall'n out with fortune, As feel in his own Fall: for men, like butterflies, Hath honour, but is honour'd by those honours Fortune Fortune and I are friends; I do enjoy At ample point all that I did poffefs, Save thefe men's looks; who do, methinks, find out As they have often giv'n. Here is Ulyffes. I'll interrupt his reading, Uly. Now, Thetis' son ! Achil. What are you reading? Now, Ulyffes ? Writes me, that man, how dearly ever parted, Achil. This is not ftrange, Ulfes. 'Till it hath travell'd, and is marry'd there Ulyf. I do not ftrain at the pofition, It is familiar; but the author's drift; Who, in his circumftance, exprefly proves That no man is the lord of any thing, (Tho' in, and of, him there is much confifting) Where they're extended; which, like an arch, reverb'rates in this, Heav'ns! Heav'ns! what a man is there? a very horse, That has he knows not what. Nature! what things there are, Moft abject in regard, and dear in ufe? What things again moft dear in the esteem, How fome men creep in skittish Fortune's hall, Achil. This I do believe; For they paffed by me, as mifers do by beggars, Ulf. Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, (A great-fiz'd monster of ingratitudes) Thofe fcraps are good deeds paft, which are devour'd As faft as they are made, forgot as foon As done: Perfeverance keeps Honour bright: To have done, is to hang quite out of fashion, That one by one purfue; if you give way, And trampled on: Then what they do in prefent, For |