Reading The Tragedie of Troylus and Cressida — William Shakespeare

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Section 18

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Troy.

I was about to tell thee, when my heart,

As wedged with a sigh, would riue in twaine,

Least Hector, or my Father should perceiue

me:

I haue (as when the Sunne doth light a‑scorne)

Buried this sigh, in wrinkle of a smile:

But sorrow, that is couch'd in seeming gladnesse,

Is like that mirth, Fate turnes to sudden sadnesse.

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