ontains more falsehood,
Than all the sun sees in his race beside.
That I should trust the daughter of a priest!
Priesthood, that makes a merchandise of heaven!
Priesthood, that sells even to their prayers and blessings
And forces us to pay for our own cozenage!

_Thers._ Nay, cheats heaven too with entrails and with offals;
Gives it the garbage of a sacrifice,
And keeps the best for private luxury.

_Troil._ Thou hast deserved thy life for cursing priests.
Let me embrace thee; thou art beautiful:
That back, that nose, those eyes are beautiful:
Live; thou art honest, for thou hat'st a priest.

_Thers._ [_Aside._] Farewell, Trojan; if I escape with life, as I
hope, and thou art knocked on the head, as I hope too, I shall be the
first that ever escaped the revenge of a priest after cursing him; and
thou wilt not be the last, I prophesy, that a priest will bring to
ruin. [_Exit_ THER.

_Troil._ Methinks, my soul is roused to her last work;
Has much to do, and little time to spare.
She starts within me, like a traveller,
Who sluggishly outslept his morning hour,
And mends his pace to reach his inn betimes.
[_Noise within,_ Follow, follow!
A noise of arms! the traitor may be there;
Or else, perhaps, that conscious scene of love,
The tent, may hold him; yet I dare not search,
For oh, I fear to find him in that place. [_Exit_ TROILUS.

_Enter_ CALCHAS _and_ CRESSIDA.

_Cres._ Where is he? I'll be justified, or die.

_Calch._ So quickly vanished! he was here but now.
He must be gone to search for Diomede;
For Diomede told me, here they were to fight.

_Cres._ Alas!

_Calch._ You must prevent, and not complain.

_Cres._ If Troilus die, I have no share in life.

_Calch._ If Diomede sink beneath the sword of Troilus
We lose not only a protector here,
But are debarred all future means of flight.

_Cres._ What then remains?

_Calch._ To interpose betimes
Betwixt their swords; or, if that cannot be,
To intercede for him, who shall be vanquished.
Fate leaves no middle course. [_Exit_ CALCHAS.

_Clashing within._

_Cres._ Ah me! I hear them,
And fear 'tis past prevention.

_Enter_ DIOMEDE, _retiring before_ TROILUS, _and falling as he
enters._

_Troil._ Now beg thy life, or die.

_Diom._ No; use thy fortune:
I loath the life, which thou canst give, or take.

_Troil._ Scorn