DIOMEDES.
I do not like this fooling.
THERSITES.
Nor I, by Pluto; but that that likes not you
Pleases me best.
DIOMEDES.
What, shall I come? The hour?
CRESSIDA.
Ay, come; O Jove! Do come. I shall be plagu’d.
DIOMEDES.
Farewell till then.
CRESSIDA.
Good night. I prithee come.
[Exit Diomedes.]
Troilus, farewell! One eye yet looks on thee;
But with my heart the other eye doth see.
Ah, poor our sex! this fault in us I find,
The error of our eye directs our mind.
What error leads must err; O, then conclude,
Minds sway’d by eyes are full of turpitude.
[Exit.]
THERSITES.
A proof of strength she could not publish more,
Unless she said ‘My mind is now turn’d whore.’