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What, shall I come? The hour?

What, shall I come? The hour?
Ay, come.—O Jove!—Do, come.—I shall be plagued.
Farewell, till then.
Good night. I prithee, come.—
He exits.
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 swayed by eyes are full of turpitude.
She exits.
Thersites, aside
A proof of strength she could not publish more,
Unless she said “My mind is now turned whore.”

Act 5
Scene 2
Line 126

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