TROILUS.
Hear why I speak it, love.
The Grecian youths are full of quality;
They’re loving, well compos’d, with gifts of nature,
Flowing and swelling o’er with arts and exercise.
How novelty may move, and parts with person,
Alas, a kind of godly jealousy,
Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin,
Makes me afear’d.
CRESSIDA.
O heavens! you love me not!
TROILUS.
Die I a villain then!
In this I do not call your faith in question
So mainly as my merit. I cannot sing,
Nor heel the high lavolt, nor sweeten talk,
Nor play at subtle games; fair virtues all,
To which the Grecians are most prompt and pregnant;
But I can tell that in each grace of these
There lurks a still and dumb-discoursive devil
That tempts most cunningly. But be not tempted.
CRESSIDA.
Do you think I will?
TROILUS.
No.
But something may be done that we will not;
And sometimes we are devils to ourselves,
When we will tempt the frailty of our powers,
Presuming on their changeful potency.
AENEAS.
[Within.] Nay, good my lord!
TROILUS.
Come, kiss; and let us part.
PARIS.
[Within.] Brother Troilus!
TROILUS.
Good brother, come you hither;
And bring Aeneas and the Grecian with you.
CRESSIDA.
My lord, will you be true?