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diff --git a/old/1124-0.txt b/old/1124-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index a36287a..0000000 --- a/old/1124-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5189 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Troilus and Cressida, by William Shakespeare - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Troilus and Cressida - The First Folio, 1623 - -Author: William Shakespeare - -Release Date: December, 1997 [eBook #1124] -[Most recently updated: November 4, 2023] - -Language: English - - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TROILUS AND CRESSIDA *** - - - - -THE TRAGEDIE OF -TROILUS AND CRESSIDA - - - - -The Prologue - - -In Troy there lyes the Scene: From Iles of Greece -The Princes Orgillous, their high blood chaf’d -Haue to the Port of Athens ſent their ſhippes -Fraught with the miniſters and inſtruments -Of cruell Warre: Sixty and nine that wore -Their Crownets Regall, from th’ Athenian bay -Put forth toward Phrygia, and their vow is made -To ranſacke Troy, within whoſe ſtrong emures -The rauiſh’d Helen, Menelaus Queene, -With wanton Paris sleepes, and that’s the Quarrell. -To Tenedos they come, -And the deepe-drawing Barke do there diſgorge -Their warlike frautage: now on Dardan Plaines -The freſh and yet unbruiſed Greekes do pitch -Their braue Pauillions. Priams ſix-gated City, -Dardan and Timbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien, -And Antenonidus with maſsie Staples -And correſponſiue and fulfilling Bolts -Stirre up the Sonnes of Troy. -Now Expectation tickling skittiſh ſpirits, -On one and other ſide, Troian and Greeke, -Sets all on hazard. And hither am I come, -A Prologue arm’d, but not in confidence -Of Authors pen, or Actors voyce, but ſuited -In like conditions, as our Argument, -To tell you (faire Beholders) that our Play -Leapes ore the vaunt and firſtlings of those broyles, -Beginning in the middle. ſtarting thence away, -To what may be digeſted in a Play: -Like, or finde fault, do as your pleaſures are, -Now good, or bad, ’tis but the chance of Warre. - - - - -Actus Primus. Scœna Prima. - - -_Enter Pandarus and Troylus_ - - -_Troylus_. Call here my Varlet, Ile vnarme againe. -Why should I warre without the walls of Troy -That finde ſuch cruell battell here within? -Each Troian that is maſter of his heart, -Let him to field, _Troylus_, alas hath none. - -_Pan_. Will this geere nere be mended? - -_Troy_. The Greeks are strong, & and skilful to their ſtrength, -Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceneſſe Valiant: -But I am weaker then a womans teare: -Tamer then ſleepe, fonder then ignorance; -Leſſe valiant then the Virgin in the night, -And skillneſſe as vnpractis’d Infancie. - -_Pan_. Well, I haue told you enough of this: For my part, Ile not -meddle nor make no farther. Hee that will haue a Cake out of the Wheate -muſt needes tarry the grinding. - -_Troy_. Haue I not tarried? - -_Pan_. I the grinding, but you muſt tarry the bolting. - -_Troy_. Haue I not tarried? - -_Pan_. I the bolting; but you muſt tarry the leau’ing. - -_Troy_. Still haue I tarried. - -_Pan_. I to the leauening: but heeres yet in the word hereafter the -Kneading, the making of the Cake, the heating of the Ouen, and the -Baking; nay, you muſt ſtay the cooling too, or you may chance to burne -your lips. - -_Troy_. Patience herſelfe, what Goddeſſe ere ſhe be, -Doth leſſer blench at ſufferance, then I doe: -At _Priams_ Royall Table doe I ſit; -And when faire _Creſſid_ comes into my thoughts, -So (Traitor) then ſhe comes, when ſhe is thence. - -_Pan_. Well: -She look’d yeſternight fairer, then euer I ſaw her looke, -Or any woman eſſe. - -_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. - -_Pan_. And her haire were not ſomewhat darker then _Helens_, well go -too, there were no more compariſon betweene the Women. But for my part -ſhe is my Kinſwoman, I would not (as they tearme it) praiſe it, but I -wold ſome-body had heard her talk yeſterday as I did: I will not -dispraiſe your ſiſter _Caſſandra’s_ wit, but— - -_Troy_. Oh _Pandarus!_ I tell thee _Pandarus;_ -When I doe tell thee, there my hopes lye drown’d: -Reply not in how many Fadomes deepe -They lye indrench’d. I tell thee, I am mad -In _Creſſids_ loue. Thou anſwer’ſt ſhe is Faire, -Powr’ſt in the open Vlcer of my heart, -Her Eyes, her Haire, her Cheeke, her Gate, her Voice, -Handleſt in thy diſcourſe. O that her Hand -(In whoſe compariſon, all whites are Inke) -Writing their owne reproach; to whoſe ſoft ſeizure, -The Cignets Downe is harſh, and ſpirit of Senſe -Hard as the palme of Plough-man. This thou tel’ſt me; -As true thou tel’ſt me when I ſay I loue her: -But ſaying thus, inſtead of Oyle and Balme, -Thou lai’ſt in euery gaſh that loue hath giuen me, -The Knife that made it. - -_Pan_. I ſpeak no more then truth. - -_Troy_. Thou do’ſt not ſpeake ſo much. - -_Pan_. Faith, Ile not meddle in’t: Let her be as ſhee is, if ſhe be -faire, ’tis the better for her, and ſhe be not, ſhe ha’s the mends in -her owne hands. - -_Troy_. Good _Pandarus:_ How now, _Pandarus?_ - -_Pan_. I haue had my Labour for my trauell, ill thought on of her, and -ill thought on of you; Gone betweene and betweene, but ſmall thankes -for my labour. - -_Troy_. What art thou angry _Pandarus?_ what with me? - -_Pan_. Becauſe ſhe’s Kinne to me, therefore ſhee’s not ſo fair as -_Helen_, and ſhe were not kin to me, ſhe would be as faire on Friday, -as _Helen_ is on Sunday. But what care I? I care not and ſhe were a -Black-a Moore, ’tis all one to me. - -_Troy_. Say I ſhe is not faire? - -_Pan_. I doe not care whether you doe or no. Shee’s a Foole to ſtay -behinde her Father: Let her to the Greeks, and ſo Ile tell her the next -time I ſee her: for my part, Ile meddle nor make no more i’ th’ matter. - -_Troy_. _Pandarus?_ - -_Pan_. Not I. - -_Troy_. Sweete _Pandarus_. - -_Pan_. Pray you ſpeak no more to me, I will leaue all as I found it, -and there an end. - -Exit _Pand_. - - -_Sound Alarum_ - - -_Tro_. Peace you vngracious Clamors, peace rude ſounds, -Fooles on both ſides, _Helen_ muſt needs be faire, -When with your bloud you daily paint her thus. -I cannot fight vpon this Argument: -It is too staru’d a ſubiect for my Sword, -But _Pandarus_. O Gods! How do you plague me? -I cannot come to _Creſſid_ but by _Pandar_, -And he’s as teachy to be woo’d to woe, -As ſhe is ſtubborne, chast againſt all ſuite. -Tell me _Apollo_ for thy _Daphnes_ Loue -What _Creſſid_ is, what _Pandar_, and what we: -Her bed is _India_, there ſhe lies, a Pearle, -Between our Ilium, and where ſhee recides -Let it be cald the wild and wandring flood, -Our ſelf the Merchant, and this ſayling _Pandar_, -Our doubtfull hope, our conuoy and our Barke. - -_Alarum. Enter Æneas_. - - -_Æne_. How now Prince _Troylus?_ -Wherefore not a field? - -_Troy_. Becauſe not there; this womans anſwer ſorts. -For womaniſh it is to be from thence: -What newes _Æneas_ from the field to day? - -_Æne_. That _Paris_ is returned home, and hurt. - -_Troy_. By whom _Æneas?_ - -_Æne_. _Troylus_ by _Menelaus_. - -_Troy_. Let _Paris_ bleed, ’tis but a ſcar to ſcorne, -_Paris_ is gor’d with _Menelaus_ horne. - -_Alarum_, - - -_Æne_. Harke what good ſport is out of Towne to day. - -_Troy_. Better at home, if would I might were may: -But to the ſport abroad, are you bound thither? - -_Æne_. In all ſwift haſte. - -_Troy_. Come, goe wee then togither. - -_Exeunt_. - - -_Enter Creſſid and her man_. - - -_Cre_. Who were thoſe went by? - -_Man_. Queen _Hecuba_, and _Hellen_. - -_Cre_. And whether go they? - -_Man_. Vp to the Eaſterne Tower, -Whoſe height commands as ſubiect all the vaile, -To ſee the battell: _Hector_ whoſe pacience, -Is as a Vertue fixt, to day was mou’d. -He chides _Andromache_ and ſtrooke his Armorer, -And like as there were husbandry in Warre -Before the Sunne rose, hee was harneſt lyte, -And to the field goe’s he; where euery flower -Did as a Prophet weepe what it foreſaw -In _Hectors_ wrath. - -_Cre_. What was his cauſe of anger? - -_Man_. The noiſe goe’s this; -There is among the Greekes, -A Lord of Troian blood, Nephew to _Hector_, -They call him _Aiax_. - -_Cre_. Good; and what of him? - -_Man_. They ſay he is a very man _per ſe_ and stands alone. - -_Cre_. So do all men, vnleſſe they are drunke, ſicke, or haue no -legges. - -_Man_. This man Lady, hath rob’d many beaſts of their particular -additions, he is as valiant as the Lyon, churliſh as the Beare, ſlow as -the Elephant: a man into whom nature hath so crowded humors, that his -valour is cruſht into folly, his folly ſauced with diſcretion: there is -no man hath a vertue, that he hath not a glimpſe of, nor any man an -attaint, but he carries ſome ſtaine of it. He is melancholy without -cauſe, and merry againſt the haire, hee hath the ioynts of euery thing, -but euery thing ſo out of ioynt, that hee is a gowtie _Briareus_, many -hands and no vſe; or purblinded _Argus_, all eyes and no ſight. - -_Cre_. But how ſhould this man that makes me ſmile, make _Hector_ -angry? - -_Man_. They ſay he yeſterday cop’d _Hector_ in the battle and ſtroke -him downe, the diſdaind & ſhame whereof, hath euer since kept _Hector_ -fasting and waking. - -_Enter Pandarus_. - - -_Cre_. Who comes here? - -_Man_. Madam your Vncle _Pandarus_. - -_Cre_. _Hectors_ a gallant man. - -_Man_. As may be in the world Lady. - -_Pan_. What’s that? what’s that? - -_Cre_. Good morrow Vncle _Pandarus_. - -_Pan_. Good morrow Cozen _Creſſid:_ what do you talke of? good morrow -_Alexander_. how do you Cozen? when were you at Illium? - -_Cre_. This morning Vncle. - -_Pan_. What were you talking of when I came? Was Hector arm’d and gon -ere yea came to Illium? _Hellen_ was not vp? was ſhe? - -_Cre_. _Hector_ was gone but _Hellen_ was not up? - -_Pan_. E’ene ſo; _Hector_ was ſtirring early. - -_Cre_. That were we talking of and of his anger. - -_Pan_. Was he angry? - -_Cre_. So he ſaies here. - -_Pan_. True, he was ſo; I know the cauſe too, heele lay about him to -day I can tell them that and there’s _Troylus_ will not come farre -behind him, let them take heede of _Troylus;_ I can tell them that too. - -_Cre_. What, is he angry too? - -_Pan_. Who, _Troylus?_ -_Troylus_ is the better man of the two. - -_Cre_. Oh _Iupiter;_ there’s no compariſon. - -_Pan_. What not betweene _Troylus_ and _Hector?_ do you know a man if -you ſee him? - -_Cre_. I, if I euer ſaw him before and knew him. - -_Pan_. Well, I ſay _Troylus_ is _Troylus_. - -_Cre_. Then you ſay as I ſay, -For I am ſure he is not _Hector_. - -_Pan_. No not _Hector_ is not _Troylus_ in ſome degrees. - -_Cre_. ’Tis just to each of them he is himſelfe. - -_Pan_. Himſelfe? alas, poore _Troylus_ I would he were. - -_Cre_. So he is. - -_Pan_. Condition I had gone bare-foote to India. - -_Cre_. He is not _Hector_. - -_Pan_. Himſelfe? no? hee’s not himſselfe, would a were himſelfe: well, -the Gods are aboue, time muſt friend or end: well _Troylus_ well, I -would my heart were in her body; no, _Hector_ is not a better man then -_Troylus_. - -_Cre_. Excuſe me. - -_Pan_. He is elder. - -_Cre_. Pardon me, pardon me. - -_Pan_. Th’others not come too’t, you ſhall tell me another tale when -th’others come too’t: _Hector_ ſhall not haue his will this yeare. - -_Cre_. He ſhall not neede it if he haue his owne. - -_Pan_. Nor his qualities. - -_Cre_. No matter. - -_Pan_. Nor his beautie. - -_Cre_. ’Twould not become him, his own’s better. - -_Pan_. You haue no iudgment Neece; _Hellen_ her ſelfe ſwore th’other -day that _Troylus_ for a browne favour (for ſo ’tis I must confeſſe) -not browne neither. - -_Cre_. No, but browne. - -_Pan_. Faith, to ſay truth, browne and not browne. - -_Cre_. To ſay the truth, true and not true. - -_Pan_. She prais’d his complexion above _Paris_. - -_Cre_. Why _Paris_ hath colour inough. - -_Pan_. So he has. - -_Cre_. Then _Troylus_ should haue too much, if ſhe prasi’d him aboue, -his complexion is higher then his, he hauing colour enough, and the -other higher, is too flaming a praiſe for a good complexion. I had as -lieue _Hellens_ golden tongue had commended _Troylus_ for a copper -noſe. - -_Pan_. I ſweare to you, -I think _Hellen_ loues him better then _Paris_. - -_Cre_. Then ſhee’s a merry Greeke indeed. - -_Pan_. Nay I am ſure ſhe does, ſhe came to him th’other day into the -compaſt window, and you know he has not paſt three or foure haires on -his chinne. - -_Cre_. Indeed a Tapsters Arithmetique may ſoone bring his particulars -therein to a totall. - -_Pan_. Why he is very yong, and yet will he within three pound lift as -much as his brother _Hector_. - -_Cre_. Is he ſo young a man, and ſo old a lifter? - -_Pan_. But to prooue to you that _Hellen_ loues him, ſhe came and puts -me her white hand to his clouen chin. - -_Cre_. _Juno_ haue mercy, how came it clouen? - -_Pan_. Why, you know ’tis dimpled, -I thinke his ſmyling becomes him better then any man in all Phrigia. - -_Cre_. Oh he ſmiles valiantly. - -_Pan_. Dooes hee not? - -_Cre_. Oh yes, and ’twere a clow’d in _Autumne_. - -_Pan_. Why go to then, but to proue to you that _Hellen_ loues -_Troylus_. - -_Cre_. _Troylus_ will ſtand to thee -Proofe, if youle prooue it ſo. - -_Pan_. _Troylus?_ why he eſteemes her no more then I eſteeme an addle -egge. - -_Cre_. If you loue an addle egge as well as you loue an idle head, you -would eate chickens i’ th’ ſhell. - -_Pan_. I cannot chuſe but laugh to thinke how ſhe tickled his chin, -indeed ſhee has a maruel’s white hand I muſt needs confeſſe. - -_Cre_. Without the racke. - -_Pan_. And ſhee takes vpon her to ſpie a white haire on his chinne. - -_Cre_. Alas poore chin? many a wart is richer. - -_Pan_. But there was ſuch laughing, Queen _Hecuba_ laught that her eyes -ran ore. - -_Cre_. With Milſtones. - -_Pan_. And _Caſſandra_ laught. - -_Cre_. But there was a more temperate fire vnder the pot of her eyes: -did her eyes run ore too? - -_Pan_. And _Hector_ laught. - -_Cre_. At what was all this laughing? - -_Pan_. Marry at the white haire that _Hellen_ ſpied on _Troylus_ chin. - -_Cre_. And t’had beene a greene haire, I ſhould haue laught too. - -_Pan_. They laught not ſo much at the haire, as at his pretty anſwere. - -_Cre_. What was his anſwere? - -_Pan_. Quoth ſhee, heere’s but two and fifty haires on your chinne; and -one of them is white. - -_Cre_. This is her queſtion. - -_Pand_. That’s true, make no queſtion of that, two and fiftie haires -quoth hee, and one white, that white haire is my Father, and all the -reſt are his Sonnes. _Iupiter_ quoth ſhe, which of theſe haires is -_Paris_ my husband? The forked one quoth he, pluckt out and giue it -him: but there was ſuch laughing, and _Hellen_ so bluſht, and _Paris_ -ſo chaft, and all the reſt ſo laught, that it paſt. - -_Cre_. So let it now, -For it has beene a great while going by. - -_Pan_. Well, Cozen, -I told you a thing yeſterday, think on’t. - -_Cre_. So I does. - -_Pan_. Ile be ſworne ’tis true, he will weepe you an ’twere a man borne -in Aprill. - -_Sound a retreat_. - - -_Cre_. And Ile ſpring vp in his teares, an ’twere a nettle againſt May. - -_Pan_. Harke they are comming from the field, shal we ſtand vp here and -ſee them, as they paſſe toward Illium, good Neece do, ſweet Neece -_Creſſida_. - -_Cre_. At your pleaſure. - -_Pan_. Heere, heere, here’s an excellent place, heere we may ſee moſt -brauely, Ile tel you them all by their names, as they paſſe by, but -mark _Troylus_ aboue the reſt. - -_Enter Æneas_. - - -_Cre_. Speake not ſo low’d. - -_Pan_. That’s _Æneas_. is not that a braue man, hee’s one of the -flowers of Troy I can you, but merke _Troylus_. you ſhall ſee anon. - -_Cre_. Who’s that? - -_Enter Antenor_. - - -_Pan_. That’s _Antenor_, he has a ſhrow’d wit I can tell you, and hee’s -a man good inough, hee’s one o’th ſoundeſt iudgment in Troy whoſoeuer, -and a proper man of perſon: when comes _Troylus?_ Ile ſhew you -_Troylus_ anon, if hee ſee me, you ſhall ſee him nod at me. - -_Cre_. Will he giue you the nod? - -_Pan_. You ſhall ſee. - -_Cre_. If he do, the rich ſhall haue more. - -_Enter Hector_. - - -_Pan_. That’s _Hector_, that, that, looke you, that there’s a fellow. -Goe thy way _Hector_, there’s a braue man Neece, O braue _Hector!_ -Looke how hee lookes? there’s a countenance; iſt not a braue man? - -_Cre_. O braue man! - -_Pan_. Is a not? It dooes a mans heart good, looke you what hacks are -on his Helmet. looke you yonder, do you ſee? Looke you there? There’s -no ieſting, laying on, tak’t off, who ill as they ſay, there be hacks. - -_Cre_. Be thoſe with Swords? - -_Enter Paris_. - - -_Pan_. Swords, any thing, he cares not, and the diuell come to him, -it’s all one, by Gods lid it dooes ones heart good. Yonder comes -_Paris_, yonder comes _Paris_: looke yee yonder Neece, iſt not a -gallant man to, iſt not? Why this is braue now: who ſaid he came hurt -home to day? Hee’s not hurt, why this will do _Hellens_ heart good now, -ha? Would I could ſee _Troylus_ now, you ſhall _Troylus_ anon. - -_Cre_. Whoſe that - -_Enter Hellenus_. - - -_Pan_. That’s _Hellenus_, I maruell where _Troylus_ is, that’s -_Helenus_, I thinke he went not forth to day: that’s _Hellenus_. - -_Cre_. Can _Hellenus_ fight, Vncle? - -_Pan_. _Hellenus_ no: yes heele fight indifferent, well, I maruell -where _Troylus_ is; harke, do you not heare the people crie _Troylus?_ -_Hellenus_ is a Prieſt. - -_Cre_. What ſneaking fellow comes yonder? - -_Enter Troylus_ - - -_Pan_. Where? Yonder? That’s _Daphobus_. ’Tis _Troylus!_ Ther’s a man -Neece, hem; Braue _Troylus_, the Prince of Chiualrie. - -_Cre_. Peace, for ſhame, peace. - -_Pan_. Marke him, not him: O braue _Troylus:_ looke well vpon him -Neece, looke you how his Sword is bloudied, and his Helme more hackt -than _Hectors_, and how he lookes, and how he goes. O admirable youth! -he ne’er ſaw three and twenty. Go thy way _Troylus_, go thy way, had I -a ſiſter were a _Grace_, or a daughter a Goddeſſe, hee ſhould take his -choice. O admirable man! _Paris? Paris_ is durt to him, and, I warrant, -_Helen_ to change, would giue money to boot. - -_Enter common Soldiers_. - - -_Cre_. Heere come more. - -_Pan_. Aſſes, fooles, dolts, chaff and bran, chaffe and bran; porredge -after meat. I could liue and dye i’ th’ eyes of _Troylus_. Ne’re looke, -ne’re looke; the Eagles are gon, Crowes and Dawes, Crowes and Dawes: I -had rather be ſuch a man as _Troylus_, then _Agamemnon_ and all Greece. - -_Cre_. There is among the Greekes _Achilles_, a better man then -_Troylus_. - -_Pan_. _Achilles?_ A Dray-man, a Porter, a very Camell. - -_Cre_. Well well. - -_Pan_. Well, well? Why haue you any diſcretion? haue you any eyes? Do -you know what a man is? Is not birth, beauty, good ſhape, diſcourſe, -manhood, learning, gentleneſſe, vertue, youth, liberality, and ſo -forth; the Spice, and ſalt that ſeaſon a man? - -_Cre_. I, a minc’d man and then to be bak’d with no Date in the pye, -for then the man’s dates out. - -_Pan_. You are ſuch another woman, one knowes not at what ward you lye. - -_Cre_. Vpon my backe, to defend my belly; vpon my wit, to defend my -wiles; vppon my ſecrecy, to defend mine honeſty; my Maske, to defend my -beauty, and you to defend all theſe: and at all theſe wardes I lye at, -at a thouſand watches. - -_Pan_. Say one of your watches. - -_Cre_. Nay Ile watch you for that, and that’s one of the cheefeſt of -them too. If I cannot ward what I would not haue hit, I can watch you -for telling how I took the blow, unleſſ it ſwell paſt hiding, and then -it’s paſt watching - -_Enter Boy_. - - -_Pan_. You are ſuch another. - -_Boy_. Sir, my lord would instantly speak with you. - -_Pan_. Where? - -_Boy_. At your own house; there he unarms him. - -_Pan_. Good boy, tell him I come. Exit Boy I doubt he be hurt. Fare ye -well, good niece. - -_Cre_. Adieu, uncle. - -_Pan_. I will be with you, niece, by and by. - -_Cre_. To bring, uncle. - -_Pan_. Ay, a token from Troylus. -Exit - -_Cre_. By the same token, you are a bawd. -Words, vows, gifts, tears, and love’s full sacrifice, -He offers in another’s enterprise; -But more in Troylus thousand-fold I see -Than in the glass of Pandar’s praise may be, -Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing: -Things won are done; joy’s soul lies in the doing. -That she belov’d knows nought that knows not this: -Men prize the thing ungain’d more than it is. -That she was never yet that ever knew -Love got so sweet as when desire did sue; -Therefore this maxim out of love I teach: -Achievement is command; ungain’d, beseech. -Then though my heart’s content firm love doth bear, -Nothing of that shall from mine eyes appear. -Exit - -Sennet. Enter Agamemnon, Nestor, Vlyſſes, Diomedes, Menelaus, and -others - -_Agam_. Princes, -What grief hath set these jaundies o’er your cheeks? -The ample proposition that hope makes -In all designs begun on earth below -Fails in the promis’d largeness; checks and disasters -Grow in the veins of actions highest rear’d, -As knots, by the conflux of meeting sap, -Infects the sound pine, and diverts his grain -Tortive and errant from his course of growth. -Nor, princes, is it matter new to us -That we come short of our suppose so far -That after seven years’ siege yet Troy walls stand; -Sith every action that hath gone before, -Whereof we have record, trial did draw -Bias and thwart, not answering the aim, -And that unbodied figure of the thought -That gave’t surmised shape. Why then, you princes, -Do you with cheeks abash’d behold our works -And call them shames, which are, indeed, nought else -But the protractive trials of great Jove -To find persistive constancy in men; -The fineness of which metal is not found -In fortune’s love? For then the bold and coward, -The wise and fool, the artist and unread, -The hard and soft, seem all affin’d and kin. -But in the wind and tempest of her frown -Distinction, with a broad and powerful fan, -Puffing at all, winnows the light away; -And what hath mass or matter by itself -Lies rich in virtue and unmingled. - -_Nestor_. With due observance of thy godlike seat, -Great Agamemnon, Nestor shall apply -Thy latest words. In the reproof of chance -Lies the true proof of men. The sea being smooth, -How many shallow bauble boats dare sail -Upon her patient breast, making their way -With those of nobler bulk! -But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage -The gentle Thetis, and anon behold -The strong-ribb’d bark through liquid mountains cut, -Bounding between the two moist elements -Like Perseus’ horse. Where’s then the saucy boat, -Whose weak untimber’d sides but even now -Co-rivall’d greatness? Either to harbour fled -Or made a toast for Neptune. Even so -Doth valour’s show and valour’s worth divide -In storms of fortune; for in her ray and brightness -The herd hath more annoyance by the breeze -Than by the tiger; but when the splitting wind -Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks, -And flies fled under shade-why, then the thing of courage -As rous’d with rage, with rage doth sympathise, -And with an accent tun’d in self-same key -Retorts to chiding fortune. - -_Vlyſ_. Agamemnon, -Thou great commander, nerve and bone of Greece, -Heart of our numbers, soul and only spirit -In whom the tempers and the minds of all -Should be shut up-hear what Vlyſſes speaks. -Besides the applause and approbation -The which, [To Agamemnon] most mighty, for thy place and sway, -[To Nestor] And, thou most reverend, for thy stretch’d-out life, -I give to both your speeches- which were such -As Agamemnon and the hand of Greece -Should hold up high in brass; and such again -As venerable Nestor, hatch’d in silver, -Should with a bond of air, strong as the axle-tree -On which heaven rides, knit all the Greekish ears -To his experienc’d tongue-yet let it please both, -Thou great, and wise, to hear Vlyſſes speak. - -_Agam_. Speak, Prince of Ithaca; and be’t of less expect -That matter needless, of importless burden, -Divide thy lips than we are confident, -When rank Thersites opes his mastic jaws, -We shall hear music, wit, and oracle. - -_Vlyſ_. Troy, yet upon his basis, had been down, -And the great Hector’s sword had lack’d a master, -But for these instances: -The specialty of rule hath been neglected; -And look how many Grecian tents do stand -Hollow upon this plain, so many hollow factions. -When that the general is not like the hive, -To whom the foragers shall all repair, -What honey is expected? Degree being vizarded, -Th’ unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask. -The heavens themselves, the planets, and this centre, -Observe degree, priority, and place, -Insisture, course, proportion, season, form, -Office, and custom, in all line of order; -And therefore is the glorious planet Sol -In noble eminence enthron’d and spher’d -Amidst the other, whose med’cinable eye -Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil, -And posts, like the commandment of a king, -Sans check, to good and bad. But when the planets -In evil mixture to disorder wander, -What plagues and what portents, what mutiny, -What raging of the sea, shaking of earth, -Commotion in the winds! Frights, changes, horrors, -Divert and crack, rend and deracinate, -The unity and married calm of states -Quite from their fixture! O, when degree is shak’d, -Which is the ladder of all high designs, -The enterprise is sick! How could communities, -Degrees in schools, and brotherhoods in cities, -Peaceful commerce from dividable shores, -The primogenity and due of birth, -Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels, -But by degree, stand in authentic place? -Take but degree away, untune that string, -And hark what discord follows! Each thing melts -In mere oppugnancy: the bounded waters -Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores, -And make a sop of all this solid globe; -Strength should be lord of imbecility, -And the rude son should strike his father dead; -Force should be right; or, rather, right and wrong- -Between whose endless jar justice resides- -Should lose their names, and so should justice too. -Then everything includes itself in power, -Power into will, will into appetite; -And appetite, an universal wolf, -So doubly seconded with will and power, -Must make perforce an universal prey, -And last eat up himself. Great Agamemnon, -This chaos, when degree is suffocate, -Follows the choking. -And this neglection of degree it is -That by a pace goes backward, with a purpose -It hath to climb. The general’s disdain’d -By him one step below, he by the next, -That next by him beneath; so ever step, -Exampl’d by the first pace that is sick -Of his superior, grows to an envious fever -Of pale and bloodless emulation. -And ’tis this fever that keeps Troy on foot, -Not her own sinews. To end a tale of length, -Troy in our weakness stands, not in her strength. - -_Nestor_. Most wisely hath Vlyſſes here discover’d -The fever whereof all our power is sick. - -_Agam_. The nature of the sickness found, Vlyſſes, -What is the remedy? - -_Vlyſ_. The great Achilles, whom opinion crowns -The sinew and the forehand of our host, -Having his ear full of his airy fame, -Grows dainty of his worth, and in his tent -Lies mocking our designs; with him Patroclus -Upon a lazy bed the livelong day -Breaks scurril jests; -And with ridiculous and awkward action- -Which, slanderer, he imitation calls- -He pageants us. Sometime, great Agamemnon, -Thy topless deputation he puts on; -And like a strutting player whose conceit -Lies in his hamstring, and doth think it rich -To hear the wooden dialogue and sound -’Twixt his stretch’d footing and the scaffoldage- -Such to-be-pitied and o’er-wrested seeming -He acts thy greatness in; and when he speaks -’Tis like a chime a-mending; with terms unsquar’d, -Which, from the tongue of roaring Typhon dropp’d, -Would seem hyperboles. At this fusty stuff -The large Achilles, on his press’d bed lolling, -From his deep chest laughs out a loud applause; -Cries ‘Excellent! ’tis Agamemnon just. -Now play me Nestor; hem, and stroke thy beard, -As he being drest to some oration.’ -That’s done-as near as the extremest ends -Of parallels, as like Vulcan and his wife; -Yet god Achilles still cries ‘Excellent! -’Tis Nestor right. Now play him me, Patroclus, -Arming to answer in a night alarm.’ -And then, forsooth, the faint defects of age -Must be the scene of mirth: to cough and spit -And, with a palsy-fumbling on his gorget, -Shake in and out the rivet. And at this sport -Sir Valour dies; cries ‘O, enough, Patroclus; -Or give me ribs of steel! I shall split all -In pleasure of my spleen.’ And in this fashion -All our abilities, gifts, natures, shapes, -Severals and generals of grace exact, -Achievements, plots, orders, preventions, -Excitements to the field or speech for truce, -Success or loss, what is or is not, serves -As stuff for these two to make paradoxes. - -_Nestor_. And in the imitation of these twain- -Who, as Vlyſſes says, opinion crowns -With an imperial voice-many are infect. -Aiax is grown self-will’d and bears his head -In such a rein, in full as proud a place -As broad Achilles; keeps his tent like him; -Makes factious feasts; rails on our state of war -Bold as an oracle, and sets Thersites, -A slave whose gall coins slanders like a mint, -To match us in comparisons with dirt, -To weaken and discredit our exposure, -How rank soever rounded in with danger. - -_Vlyſ_. They tax our policy and call it cowardice, -Count wisdom as no member of the war, -Forestall prescience, and esteem no act -But that of hand. The still and mental parts -That do contrive how many hands shall strike -When fitness calls them on, and know, by measure -Of their observant toil, the enemies’ weight- -Why, this hath not a finger’s dignity: -They call this bed-work, mapp’ry, closet-war; -So that the ram that batters down the wall, -For the great swinge and rudeness of his poise, -They place before his hand that made the engine, -Or those that with the fineness of their souls -By reason guide his execution. - -_Nestor_. Let this be granted, and Achilles’ horse -Makes many Thetis’ sons. -[Tucket] - -_Agam_. What trumpet? Look, Menelaus. - -_Men_. From Troy. - -Enter Æneas - -_Agam_. What would you fore our tent? - -_Æne_. Is this great Agamemnon’s tent, I pray you? - -_Agam_. Even this. - -_Æne_. May one that is a herald and a prince -Do a fair message to his kingly eyes? - -_Agam_. With surety stronger than Achilles’ an -Fore all the Greekish heads, which with one voice -Call Agamemnon head and general. - -_Æne_. Fair leave and large security. How may -A stranger to those most imperial looks -Know them from eyes of other mortals? - -_Agam_. How? - -_Æne_. Ay; -I ask, that I might waken reverence, -And bid the cheek be ready with a blush -Modest as Morning when she coldly eyes -The youthful Phoebus. -Which is that god in office, guiding men? -Which is the high and mighty Agamemnon? - -_Agam_. This Troian scorns us, or the men of Troy -Are ceremonious courtiers. - -_Æne_. Courtiers as free, as debonair, unarm’d, -As bending angels; that’s their fame in peace. -But when they would seem soldiers, they have galls, -Good arms, strong joints, true swords; and, Jove’s accord, -Nothing so full of heart. But peace, Æneas, -Peace, Troian; lay thy finger on thy lips. -The worthiness of praise distains his worth, -If that the prais’d himself bring the praise forth; -But what the repining enemy commends, -That breath fame blows; that praise, sole pure, transcends. - -_Agam_. Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself Æneas? - -_Æne_. Ay, Greek, that is my name. - -_Agam_. What’s your affair, I pray you? - -_Æne_. Sir, pardon; ’tis for Agamemnon’s ears. - -_Agam_. He hears nought privately that comes from Troy. - -_Æne_. Nor I from Troy come not to whisper with him; -I bring a trumpet to awake his ear, -To set his sense on the attentive bent, -And then to speak. - -_Agam_. Speak frankly as the wind; -It is not Agamemnon’s sleeping hour. -That thou shalt know, Troian, he is awake, -He tells thee so himself. - -_Æne_. Trumpet, blow loud, -Send thy brass voice through all these lazy tents; -And every Greek of mettle, let him know -What Troy means fairly shall be spoke aloud. -[Sound trumpet] -We have, great Agamemnon, here in Troy -A prince called Hector-Priam is his father- -Who in this dull and long-continued truce -Is resty grown; he bade me take a trumpet -And to this purpose speak: Kings, princes, lords! -If there be one among the fair’st of Greece -That holds his honour higher than his ease, -That seeks his praise more than he fears his peril, -That knows his valour and knows not his fear, -That loves his mistress more than in confession -With truant vows to her own lips he loves, -And dare avow her beauty and her worth -In other arms than hers-to him this challenge. -Hector, in view of Troians and of Greeks, -Shall make it good or do his best to do it: -He hath a lady wiser, fairer, truer, -Than ever Greek did couple in his arms; -And will to-morrow with his trumpet call -Mid-way between your tents and walls of Troy -To rouse a Grecian that is true in love. -If any come, Hector shall honour him; -If none, he’ll say in Troy, when he retires, -The Grecian dames are sunburnt and not worth -The splinter of a lance. Even so much. - -_Agam_. This shall be told our lovers, Lord Æneas. -If none of them have soul in such a kind, -We left them all at home. But we are soldiers; -And may that soldier a mere recreant prove -That means not, hath not, or is not in love. -If then one is, or hath, or means to be, -That one meets Hector; if none else, I am he. - -_Nestor_. Tell him of Nestor, one that was a man -When Hector’s grandsire suck’d. He is old now; -But if there be not in our Grecian mould -One noble man that hath one spark of fire -To answer for his love, tell him from me -I’ll hide my silver beard in a gold beaver, -And in my vantbrace put this wither’d brawn, -And, meeting him, will tell him that my lady -Was fairer than his grandame, and as chaste -As may be in the world. His youth in flood, -I’ll prove this truth with my three drops of blood. - -_Æne_. Now heavens forfend such scarcity of youth! - -_Vlyſ_. Amen. - -_Agam_. Fair Lord Æneas, let me touch your hand; -To our pavilion shall I lead you, first. -Achilles shall have word of this intent; -So shall each lord of Greece, from tent to tent. -Yourself shall feast with us before you go, -And find the welcome of a noble foe. -Exeunt all but Vlyſſes and Nestor Vlyſſes. Nestor! - -_Nestor_. What says Vlyſſes? - -_Vlyſ_. I have a young conception in my brain; -Be you my time to bring it to some shape. - -_Nestor_. What is’t? - -_Vlyſ_. This ’tis: -Blunt wedges rive hard knots. The seeded pride -That hath to this maturity blown up -In rank Achilles must or now be cropp’d -Or, shedding, breed a nursery of like evil -To overbulk us all. - -_Nestor_. Well, and how? - -_Vlyſ_. This challenge that the gallant Hector sends, -However it is spread in general name, -Relates in purpose only to Achilles. - -_Nestor_. True. The purpose is perspicuous even as substance -Whose grossness little characters sum up; -And, in the publication, make no strain -But that Achilles, were his brain as barren -As banks of Libya-though, Apollo knows, -’Tis dry enough-will with great speed of judgement, -Ay, with celerity, find Hector’s purpose -Pointing on him. - -_Vlyſ_. And wake him to the answer, think you? - -_Nestor_. Why, ’tis most meet. Who may you else oppose -That can from Hector bring those honours off, -If not Achilles? Though ’t be a sportful combat, -Yet in this trial much opinion dwells; -For here the Troians taste our dear’st repute -With their fin’st palate; and trust to me, Vlyſſes, -Our imputation shall be oddly pois’d -In this vile action; for the success, -Although particular, shall give a scantling -Of good or bad unto the general; -And in such indexes, although small pricks -To their subsequent volumes, there is seen -The baby figure of the giant mas -Of things to come at large. It is suppos’d -He that meets Hector issues from our choice; -And choice, being mutual act of all our souls, -Makes merit her election, and doth boil, -As ’twere from forth us all, a man distill’d -Out of our virtues; who miscarrying, -What heart receives from hence a conquering part, -To steel a strong opinion to themselves? -Which entertain’d, limbs are his instruments, -In no less working than are swords and bows -Directive by the limbs. - -_Vlyſ_. Give pardon to my speech. -Therefore ’tis meet Achilles meet not Hector. -Let us, like merchants, show our foulest wares -And think perchance they’ll sell; if not, the lustre -Of the better yet to show shall show the better, -By showing the worst first. Do not consent -That ever Hector and Achilles meet; -For both our honour and our shame in this -Are dogg’d with two strange followers. - -_Nestor_. I see them not with my old eyes. What are they? - -_Vlyſ_. What glory our Achilles shares from Hector, -Were he not proud, we all should wear with him; -But he already is too insolent; -And it were better parch in Afric sun -Than in the pride and salt scorn of his eyes, -Should he scape Hector fair. If he were foil’d, -Why, then we do our main opinion crush -In taint of our best man. No, make a lott’ry; -And, by device, let blockish Aiax draw -The sort to fight with Hector. Among ourselves -Give him allowance for the better man; -For that will physic the great Myrmidon, -Who broils in loud applause, and make him fall -His crest, that prouder than blue Iris bends. -If the dull brainless Aiax come safe off, -We’ll dress him up in voices; if he fail, -Yet go we under our opinion still -That we have better men. But, hit or miss, -Our project’s life this shape of sense assumes- -Aiax employ’d plucks down Achilles’ plumes. - -_Nestor_. Now, Vlyſſes, I begin to relish thy advice; -And I will give a taste thereof forthwith -To Agamemnon. Go we to him straight. -Two curs shall tame each other: pride alone -Must tarre the mastiffs on, as ’twere their bone. -Exeunt - -Enter Aiax and Thersites - -_Aiax_. Thersites! - -_Ther_. Agamemnon-how if he had boils full, an over, generally? - -_Aiax_. Thersites! - -_Ther_. And those boils did run-say so. Did not the general run then? -Were not that a botchy core? - -_Aiax_. Dog! - -_Ther_. Then there would come some matter from him; I see none now. - -_Aiax_. Thou bitch-wolf’s son, canst thou not hear? Feel, then. -[Strikes him] - -_Ther_. The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel beef-witted lord! - -_Aiax_. Speak, then, thou whinid’st leaven, speak. I will beat thee -into handsomeness. - -_Ther_. I shall sooner rail thee into wit and holiness; but I think thy -horse will sooner con an oration than thou learn a prayer without book. -Thou canst strike, canst thou? A red murrain o’ thy jade’s tricks! - -_Aiax_. Toadstool, learn me the proclamation. - -_Ther_. Dost thou think I have no sense, thou strikest me thus? - -_Aiax_. The proclamation! - -_Ther_. Thou art proclaim’d, a fool, I think. - -_Aiax_. Do not, porpentine, do not; my fingers itch. - -_Ther_. I would thou didst itch from head to foot and I had the -scratching of thee; I would make thee the loathsomest scab in Greece. -When thou art forth in the incursions, thou strikest as slow as -another. - -_Aiax_. I say, the proclamation. - -_Ther_. Thou grumblest and railest every hour on Achilles; and thou art -as full of envy at his greatness as Cerberus is at Proserpina’s -beauty-ay, that thou bark’st at him. - -_Aiax_. Mistress Thersites! - -_Ther_. Thou shouldst strike him. - -_Aiax_. Cobloaf! - -_Ther_. He would pun thee into shivers with his fist, as a sailor -breaks a biscuit. - -_Aiax_. You whoreson cur! [Strikes him] - -_Ther_. Do, do. - -_Aiax_. Thou stool for a witch! - -_Ther_. Ay, do, do; thou sodden-witted lord! Thou hast no more brain -than I have in mine elbows; an assinico may tutor thee. You scurvy -valiant ass! Thou art here but to thrash Troians, and thou art bought -and sold among those of any wit like a barbarian slave. If thou use to -beat me, I will begin at thy heel and tell what thou art by inches, -thou thing of no bowels, thou! - -_Aiax_. You dog! - -_Ther_. You scurvy lord! - -_Aiax_. You cur! [Strikes him] - -_Ther_. Mars his idiot! Do, rudeness; do, camel; do, do. - -Enter Achilles and Patroclus - -_Achil_. Why, how now, Aiax! Wherefore do you thus? -How now, Thersites! What’s the matter, man? - -_Ther_. You see him there, do you? - -_Achil_. Ay; what’s the matter? - -_Ther_. Nay, look upon him. - -_Achil_. So I do. What’s the matter? - -_Ther_. Nay, but regard him well. - -_Achil_. Well! why, so I do. - -_Ther_. But yet you look not well upon him; for who some ever you take -him to be, he is Aiax. - -_Achil_. I know that, fool. - -_Ther_. Ay, but that fool knows not himself. - -_Aiax_. Therefore I beat thee. - -_Ther_. Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters! His evasions -have ears thus long. I have bobb’d his brain more than he has beat my -bones. I will buy nine sparrows for a penny, and his pia mater is not -worth the ninth part of a sparrow. This lord, Achilles, Aiax-who wears -his wit in his belly and his guts in his head-I’ll tell you what I say -of him. - -_Achil_. What? - -_Ther_. I say this Aiax- [Aiax offers to strike him] - -_Achil_. Nay, good Aiax. - -_Ther_. Has not so much wit- - -_Achil_. Nay, I must hold you. - -_Ther_. As will stop the eye of Helen’s needle, for whom he comes to -fight. - -_Achil_. Peace, fool. - -_Ther_. I would have peace and quietness, but the fool will not- he -there; that he; look you there. - -_Aiax_. O thou damned cur! I shall- - -_Achil_. Will you set your wit to a fool’s? - -_Ther_. No, I warrant you, the fool’s will shame it. - -_Patr_. Good words, Thersites. - -_Achil_. What’s the quarrel? - -_Aiax_. I bade the vile owl go learn me the tenour of the proclamation, -and he rails upon me. - -_Ther_. I serve thee not. - -_Aiax_. Well, go to, go to. - -_Ther_. I serve here voluntary. - -_Achil_. Your last service was suff’rance; ’twas not voluntary. No man -is beaten voluntary. Aiax was here the voluntary, and you as under an -impress. - -_Ther_. E’en so; a great deal of your wit too lies in your sinews, or -else there be liars. Hector shall have a great catch an he knock out -either of your brains: ’a were as good crack a fusty nut with no -kernel. - -_Achil_. What, with me too, Thersites? - -_Ther_. There’s Vlyſſes and old Nestor-whose wit was mouldy ere your -grandsires had nails on their toes-yoke you like draught oxen, and make -you plough up the wars. - -_Achil_. What, what? - -_Ther_. Yes, good sooth. To Achilles, to Aiax, to- - -_Aiax_. I shall cut out your tongue. - -_Ther_. ’Tis no matter; I shall speak as much as thou afterwards. - -_Patr_. No more words, Thersites; peace! - -_Ther_. I will hold my peace when Achilles’ brach bids me, shall I? - -_Achil_. There’s for you, Patroclus. - -_Ther_. I will see you hang’d like clotpoles ere I come any more to -your tents. I will keep where there is wit stirring, and leave the -faction of fools. Exit - -_Patr_. A good riddance. - -_Achil_. Marry, this, sir, is proclaim’d through all our host, -That Hector, by the fifth hour of the sun, -Will with a trumpet ’twixt our tents and Troy, -To-morrow morning, call some knight to arms -That hath a stomach; and such a one that dare -Maintain I know not what; ’tis trash. Farewell. - -_Aiax_. Farewell. Who shall answer him? - -_Achil_. I know not; ’tis put to lott’ry. Otherwise. He knew his man. - -_Aiax_. O, meaning you! I will go learn more of it. -Exeunt - -Enter Priam, Hector, Troylus, Paris, and Hellenus - -_Pri_. After so many hours, lives, speeches, spent, -Thus once again says Nestor from the Greeks: -‘Deliver Helen, and all damage else- -As honour, loss of time, travail, expense, -Wounds, friends, and what else dear that is consum’d -In hot digestion of this cormorant war- -Shall be struck off.’ Hector, what say you to’t? - -_Hect_. Though no man lesser fears the Greeks than I, -As far as toucheth my particular, -Yet, dread Priam, -There is no lady of more softer bowels, -More spongy to suck in the sense of fear, -More ready to cry out ‘Who knows what follows?’ -Than Hector is. The wound of peace is surety, -Surety secure; but modest doubt is call’d -The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches -To th’ bottom of the worst. Let Helen go. -Since the first sword was drawn about this question, -Every tithe soul ’mongst many thousand dismes -Hath been as dear as Helen-I mean, of ours. -If we have lost so many tenths of ours -To guard a thing not ours, nor worth to us, -Had it our name, the value of one ten, -What merit’s in that reason which denies -The yielding of her up? - -_Troy_. Fie, fie, my brother! -Weigh you the worth and honour of a king, -So great as our dread father’s, in a scale -Of common ounces? Will you with counters sum -The past-proportion of his infinite, -And buckle in a waist most fathomless -With spans and inches so diminutive -As fears and reasons? Fie, for godly shame! - -_Hel_. No marvel though you bite so sharp at reasons, -You are so empty of them. Should not our father -Bear the great sway of his affairs with reasons, -Because your speech hath none that tells him so? - -_Troy_. You are for dreams and slumbers, brother priest; -You fur your gloves with reason. Here are your reasons: -You know an enemy intends you harm; -You know a sword employ’d is perilous, -And reason flies the object of all harm. -Who marvels, then, when Helenus beholds -A Grecian and his sword, if he do set -The very wings of reason to his heels -And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove, -Or like a star disorb’d? Nay, if we talk of reason, -Let’s shut our gates and sleep. Manhood and honour -Should have hare hearts, would they but fat their thoughts -With this cramm’d reason. Reason and respect -Make livers pale and lustihood deject. - -_Hect_. Brother, she is not worth what she doth, cost -The keeping. - -_Troy_. What’s aught but as ’tis valued? - -_Hect_. But value dwells not in particular will: -It holds his estimate and dignity -As well wherein ’tis precious of itself -As in the prizer. ’Tis mad idolatry -To make the service greater than the god-I -And the will dotes that is attributive -To what infectiously itself affects, -Without some image of th’ affected merit. - -_Troy_. I take to-day a wife, and my election -Is led on in the conduct of my will; -My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears, -Two traded pilots ’twixt the dangerous shores -Of will and judgement: how may I avoid, -Although my will distaste what it elected, -The wife I chose? There can be no evasion -To blench from this and to stand firm by honour. -We turn not back the silks upon the merchant -When we have soil’d them; nor the remainder viands -We do not throw in unrespective sieve, -Because we now are full. It was thought meet -Paris should do some vengeance on the Greeks; -Your breath with full consent benied his sails; -The seas and winds, old wranglers, took a truce, -And did him service. He touch’d the ports desir’d; -And for an old aunt whom the Greeks held captive -He brought a Grecian queen, whose youth and freshness -Wrinkles Apollo’s, and makes stale the morning. -Why keep we her? The Grecians keep our aunt. -Is she worth keeping? Why, she is a pearl -Whose price hath launch’d above a thousand ships, -And turn’d crown’d kings to merchants. -If you’ll avouch ’twas wisdom Paris went- -As you must needs, for you all cried ‘Go, go’- -If you’ll confess he brought home worthy prize- -As you must needs, for you all clapp’d your hands, -And cried ‘Inestimable!’ -why do you now -The issue of your proper wisdoms rate, -And do a deed that never fortune did- -Beggar the estimation which you priz’d -Richer than sea and land? O theft most base, -That we have stol’n what we do fear to keep! -But thieves unworthy of a thing so stol’n -That in their country did them that disgrace -We fear to warrant in our native place! - -_Caſ_. [Within] Cry, Troians, cry. - -_Pri_. What noise, what shriek is this? - -_Troy_. ’Tis our mad sister; I do know her voice. - -_Caſ_. [Within] Cry, Troians. - -_Hect_. It is Caſſandra. - -Enter Caſſandra, raving - -_Caſ_. Cry, Troians, cry. Lend me ten thousand eyes, -And I will fill them with prophetic tears. - -_Hect_. Peace, sister, peace. - -_Caſ_. Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled eld, -Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry, -Add to my clamours. Let us pay betimes -A moiety of that mass of moan to come. -Cry, Troians, cry. Practise your eyes with tears. -Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand; -Our firebrand brother, Paris, burns us all. -Cry, Troians, cry, A Helen and a woe! -Cry, cry. Troy burns, or else let Helen go. -Exit - -_Hect_. Now, youthful Troylus, do not these high strains -Of divination in our sister work -Some touches of remorse, or is your blood -So madly hot that no discourse of reason, -Nor fear of bad success in a bad cause, -Can qualify the same? - -_Troy_. Why, brother Hector, -We may not think the justness of each act -Such and no other than event doth form it; -Nor once deject the courage of our minds -Because Caſſandra’s mad. Her brain-sick raptures -Cannot distaste the goodness of a quarrel -Which hath our several honours all engag’d -To make it gracious. For my private part, -I am no more touch’d than all Priam’s sons; -And Jove forbid there should be done amongst us -Such things as might offend the weakest spleen -To fight for and maintain. - -_Par_. Else might the world convince of levity -As well my undertakings as your counsels; -But I attest the gods, your full consent -Gave wings to my propension, and cut of -All fears attending on so dire a project. -For what, alas, can these my single arms? -What propugnation is in one man’s valour -To stand the push and enmity of those -This quarrel would excite? Yet, I protest, -Were I alone to pass the difficulties, -And had as ample power as I have will, -Paris should ne’er retract what he hath done -Nor faint in the pursuit. - -_Pri_. Paris, you speak -Like one besotted on your sweet delights. -You have the honey still, but these the gall; -So to be valiant is no praise at all. - -_Par_. Sir, I propose not merely to myself -The pleasures such a beauty brings with it; -But I would have the soil of her fair rape -Wip’d off in honourable keeping her. -What treason were it to the ransack’d queen, -Disgrace to your great worths, and shame to me, -Now to deliver her possession up -On terms of base compulsion! Can it be -That so degenerate a strain as this -Should once set footing in your generous bosoms? -There’s not the meanest spirit on our party -Without a heart to dare or sword to draw -When Helen is defended; nor none so noble -Whose life were ill bestow’d or death unfam’d -Where Helen is the subject. Then, I say, -Well may we fight for her whom we know well -The world’s large spaces cannot parallel. - -_Hect_. Paris and Troylus, you have both said well; -And on the cause and question now in hand -Have gloz’d, but superficially; not much -Unlike young men, whom Aristode thought -Unfit to hear moral philosophy. -The reasons you allege do more conduce -To the hot passion of distemp’red blood -Than to make up a free determination -’Twixt right and wrong; for pleasure and revenge -Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice -Of any true decision. Nature craves -All dues be rend’red to their owners. Now, -What nearer debt in all humanity -Than wife is to the husband? If this law -Of nature be corrupted through affection; -And that great minds, of partial indulgence -To their benumbed wills, resist the same; -There is a law in each well-order’d nation -To curb those raging appetites that are -Most disobedient and refractory. -If Helen, then, be wife to Sparta’s king- -As it is known she is-these moral laws -Of nature and of nations speak aloud -To have her back return’d. Thus to persist -In doing wrong extenuates not wrong, -But makes it much more heavy. Hector’s opinion -Is this, in way of truth. Yet, ne’er the less, -My spritely brethren, I propend to you -In resolution to keep Helen still; -For ’tis a cause that hath no mean dependence -Upon our joint and several dignities. - -_Troy_. Why, there you touch’d the life of our design. -Were it not glory that we more affected -Than the performance of our heaving spleens, -I would not wish a drop of Troian blood -Spent more in her defence. But, worthy Hector, -She is a theme of honour and renown, -A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds, -Whose present courage may beat down our foes, -And fame in time to come canonize us; -For I presume brave Hector would not lose -So rich advantage of a promis’d glory -As smiles upon the forehead of this action -For the wide world’s revenue. - -_Hect_. I am yours, -You valiant offspring of great Priamus. -I have a roisting challenge sent amongst -The dull and factious nobles of the Greeks -Will strike amazement to their drowsy spirits. -I was advertis’d their great general slept, -Whilst emulation in the army crept. -This, I presume, will wake him. -Exeunt - -Enter Thersites, solus - -_Ther_. How now, Thersites! What, lost in the labyrinth of thy fury? -Shall the elephant Aiax carry it thus? He beats me, and I rail at him. -O worthy satisfaction! Would it were otherwise: that I could beat him, -whilst he rail’d at me! ’Sfoot, I’ll learn to conjure and raise devils, -but I’ll see some issue of my spiteful execrations. Then there’s -Achilles, a rare engineer! If Troy be not taken till these two -undermine it, the walls will stand till they fall of themselves. O thou -great thunder-darter of Olympus, forget that thou art Jove, the king of -gods, and, Mercury, lose all the serpentine craft of thy caduceus, if -ye take not that little little less-than-little wit from them that they -have! which short-arm’d ignorance itself knows is so abundant scarce, -it will not in circumvention deliver a fly from a spider without -drawing their massy irons and cutting the web. After this, the -vengeance on the whole camp! or, rather, the Neapolitan bone-ache! for -that, methinks, is the curse depending on those that war for a placket. -I have said my prayers; and devil Envy say ‘Amen.’ What ho! my Lord -Achilles! - -Enter Patroclus - -_Patr_. Who’s there? Thersites! Good Thersites, come in and rail. - -_Ther_. If I could ’a rememb’red a gilt counterfeit, thou wouldst not -have slipp’d out of my contemplation; but it is no matter; thyself upon -thyself! The common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in -great revenue! Heaven bless thee from a tutor, and discipline come not -near thee! Let thy blood be thy direction till thy death. Then if she -that lays thee out says thou art a fair corse, I’ll be sworn and sworn -upon’t she never shrouded any but lazars. Amen. Where’s Achilles? - -_Patr_. What, art thou devout? Wast thou in prayer? - -_Ther_. Ay, the heavens hear me! - -_Patr_. Amen. - -Enter Achilles - -_Achil_. Who’s there? - -_Patr_. Thersites, my lord. - -_Achil_. Where, where? O, where? Art thou come? Why, my cheese, my -digestion, why hast thou not served thyself in to my table so many -meals? Come, what’s Agamemnon? - -_Ther_. Thy commander, Achilles. Then tell me, Patroclus, what’s -Achilles? - -_Patr_. Thy lord, Thersites. Then tell me, I pray thee, what’s -Thersites? - -_Ther_. Thy knower, Patroclus. Then tell me, Patroclus, what art thou? - -_Patr_. Thou must tell that knowest. - -_Achil_. O, tell, tell, - -_Ther_. I’ll decline the whole question. Agamemnon commands Achilles; -Achilles is my lord; I am Patroclus’ knower; and Patroclus is a fool. - -_Patr_. You rascal! - -_Ther_. Peace, fool! I have not done. - -_Achil_. He is a privileg’d man. Proceed, Thersites. - -_Ther_. Agamemnon is a fool; Achilles is a fool; Thersites is a fool; -and, as aforesaid, Patroclus is a fool. - -_Achil_. Derive this; come. - -_Ther_. Agamemnon is a fool to offer to command Achilles; Achilles is a -fool to be commanded of Agamemnon; Thersites is a fool to serve such a -fool; and this Patroclus is a fool positive. - -_Patr_. Why am I a fool? - -_Ther_. Make that demand of the Creator. It suffices me thou art. Look -you, who comes here? - -_Achil_. Come, Patroclus, I’ll speak with nobody. Come in with me, -Thersites. -Exit - -_Ther_. Here is such patchery, such juggling, and such knavery. All the -argument is a whore and a cuckold-a good quarrel to draw emulous -factions and bleed to death upon. Now the dry serpigo on the subject, -and war and lechery confound all! -Exit - -Enter Agamemnon, Vlyſſes, Nestor, Diomedes, Aiax, and Chalcas - -_Agam_. Where is Achilles? - -_Patr_. Within his tent; but ill-dispos’d, my lord. - -_Agam_. Let it be known to him that we are here. -He shent our messengers; and we lay by -Our appertainings, visiting of him. -Let him be told so; lest, perchance, he think -We dare not move the question of our place -Or know not what we are. - -_Patr_. I shall say so to him. -Exit - -_Vlyſ_. We saw him at the opening of his tent. -He is not sick. - -_Aiax_. Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart. You may call it -melancholy, if you will favour the man; but, by my head, ’tis -pride. But why, why? Let him show us a cause. A word, my lord. -[Takes Agamemnon aside] - -_Nestor_. What moves Aiax thus to bay at him? - -_Vlyſ_. Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him. - -_Nestor_. Who, Thersites? - -_Vlyſ_. He. - -_Nestor_. Then will Aiax lack matter, if he have lost his argument - -_Vlyſ_. No; you see he is his argument that has his argument- Achilles. - -_Nestor_. All the better; their fraction is more our wish than their -faction. But it was a strong composure a fool could disunite! - -_Vlyſ_. The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie. - -Re-enter Patroclus - -Here comes Patroclus. - -_Nestor_. No Achilles with him. - -_Vlyſ_. The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy; his legs -are legs for necessity, not for flexure. - -_Patr_. Achilles bids me say he is much sorry -If any thing more than your sport and pleasure -Did move your greatness and this noble state -To call upon him; he hopes it is no other -But for your health and your digestion sake, -An after-dinner’s breath. - -_Agam_. Hear you, Patroclus. -We are too well acquainted with these answers; -But his evasion, wing’d thus swift with scorn, -Cannot outfly our apprehensions. -Much attribute he hath, and much the reason -Why we ascribe it to him. Yet all his virtues, -Not virtuously on his own part beheld, -Do in our eyes begin to lose their gloss; -Yea, like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish, -Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell him -We come to speak with him; and you shall not sin -If you do say we think him over-proud -And under-honest, in self-assumption greater -Than in the note of judgement; and worthier than himself -Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on, -Disguise the holy strength of their command, -And underwrite in an observing kind -His humorous predominance; yea, watch -His pettish lunes, his ebbs, his flows, as if -The passage and whole carriage of this action -Rode on his tide. Go tell him this, and ad -That if he overhold his price so much -We’ll none of him, but let him, like an engine -Not portable, lie under this report: -Bring action hither; this cannot go to war. -A stirring dwarf we do allowance give -Before a sleeping giant. Tell him so. - -_Patr_. I shall, and bring his answer presently. -Exit - -_Agam_. In second voice we’ll not be satisfied; -We come to speak with him. Vlyſſes, enter you. -Exit Vlyſſes - -_Aiax_. What is he more than another? - -_Agam_. No more than what he thinks he is. - -_Aiax_. Is he so much? Do you not think he thinks himself a better man -than I am? - -_Agam_. No question. - -_Aiax_. Will you subscribe his thought and say he is? - -_Agam_. No, noble Aiax; you are as strong, as valiant, as wise, no less -noble, much more gentle, and altogether more tractable. - -_Aiax_. Why should a man be proud? How doth pride grow? I know not what -pride is. - -_Agam_. Your mind is the clearer, Aiax, and your virtues the fairer. He -that is proud eats up himself. Pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, -his own chronicle; and whatever praises itself but in the deed devours -the deed in the praise. - -Re-enter Vlyſſes - -_Aiax_. I do hate a proud man as I do hate the engend’ring of toads. - -_Nestor_. [Aside] And yet he loves himself: is’t not strange? - -_Vlyſ_. Achilles will not to the field to-morrow. - -_Agam_. What’s his excuse? - -_Vlyſ_. He doth rely on none; -But carries on the stream of his dispose, -Without observance or respect of any, -In will peculiar and in self-admission. - -_Agam_. Why will he not, upon our fair request, -Untent his person and share the air with us? - -_Vlyſ_. Things small as nothing, for request’s sake only, -He makes important; possess’d he is with greatness, -And speaks not to himself but with a pride -That quarrels at self-breath. Imagin’d worth -Holds in his blood such swol’n and hot discourse -That ’twixt his mental and his active parts -Kingdom’d Achilles in commotion rages, -And batters down himself. What should I say? -He is so plaguy proud that the death tokens of it -Cry ‘No recovery.’ - -_Agam_. Let Aiax go to him. -Dear lord, go you and greet him in his tent. -’Tis said he holds you well; and will be led -At your request a little from himself. - -_Vlyſ_. O Agamemnon, let it not be so! -We’ll consecrate the steps that Aiax makes -When they go from Achilles. Shall the proud lord -That bastes his arrogance with his own seam -And never suffers matter of the world -Enter his thoughts, save such as doth revolve -And ruminate himself-shall he be worshipp’d -Of that we hold an idol more than he? -No, this thrice-worthy and right valiant lord -Shall not so stale his palm, nobly acquir’d, -Nor, by my will, assubjugate his merit, -As amply titled as Achilles is, -By going to Achilles. -That were to enlard his fat-already pride, -And add more coals to Cancer when he burns -With entertaining great Hyperion. -This lord go to him! Jupiter forbid, -And say in thunder ‘Achilles go to him.’ - -_Nestor_. [Aside] O, this is well! He rubs the vein of him. - -_Diom_. [Aside] And how his silence drinks up this applause! - -_Aiax_. If I go to him, with my armed fist I’ll pash him o’er the face. - -_Agam_. O, no, you shall not go. - -_Aiax_. An ’a be proud with me I’ll pheeze his pride. -Let me go to him. - -_Vlyſ_. Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel. - -_Aiax_. A paltry, insolent fellow! - -_Nestor_. [Aside] How he describes himself! - -_Aiax_. Can he not be sociable? - -_Vlyſ_. [Aside] The raven chides blackness. - -_Aiax_. I’ll let his humours blood. - -_Agam_. [Aside] He will be the physician that should be the patient. - -_Aiax_. An all men were a my mind- - -_Vlyſ_. [Aside] Wit would be out of fashion. - -_Aiax_. ’A should not bear it so, ’a should eat’s words first. -Shall pride carry it? - -_Nestor_. [Aside] An ’twould, you’d carry half. - -_Vlyſ_. [Aside] ’A would have ten shares. - -_Aiax_. I will knead him, I’ll make him supple. - -_Nestor_. [Aside] He’s not yet through warm. Force him with praises; -pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry. - -_Vlyſ_. [To Agamemnon] My lord, you feed too much on this dislike. - -_Nestor_. Our noble general, do not do so. - -_Diom_. You must prepare to fight without Achilles. - -_Vlyſ_. Why ’tis this naming of him does him harm. -Here is a man-but ’tis before his face; -I will be silent. - -_Nestor_. Wherefore should you so? -He is not emulous, as Achilles is. - -_Vlyſ_. Know the whole world, he is as valiant. - -_Aiax_. A whoreson dog, that shall palter with us thus! -Would he were a Troian! - -_Nestor_. What a vice were it in Aiax now- - -_Vlyſ_. If he were proud. - -_Diom_. Or covetous of praise. - -_Vlyſ_. Ay, or surly borne. - -_Diom_. Or strange, or self-affected. - -_Vlyſ_. Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet composure -Praise him that gat thee, she that gave thee suck; -Fam’d be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature -Thrice-fam’d beyond, beyond all erudition; -But he that disciplin’d thine arms to fight- -Let Mars divide eternity in twain -And give him half; and, for thy vigour, -Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield -To sinewy Aiax. I will not praise thy wisdom, -Which, like a bourn, a pale, a shore, confines -Thy spacious and dilated parts. Here’s Nestor, -Instructed by the antiquary times- -He must, he is, he cannot but be wise; -But pardon, father Nestor, were your days -As green as Aiax’ and your brain so temper’d, -You should not have the eminence of him, -But be as Aiax. - -_Aiax_. Shall I call you father? - -_Nestor_. Ay, my good son. - -_Diom_. Be rul’d by him, Lord Aiax. - -_Vlyſ_. There is no tarrying here; the hart Achilles -Keeps thicket. Please it our great general -To call together all his state of war; -Fresh kings are come to Troy. To-morrow -We must with all our main of power stand fast; -And here’s a lord-come knights from east to west -And cull their flower, Aiax shall cope the best. - -_Agam_. Go we to council. Let Achilles sleep. -Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw deep. -Exeunt - -Music sounds within. Enter Pandarus and a Servant - -_Pan_. Friend, you-pray you, a word. Do you not follow the young Lord -Paris? - -_Ser_. Ay, sir, when he goes before me. - -_Pan_. You depend upon him, I mean? - -_Ser_. Sir, I do depend upon the lord. - -_Pan_. You depend upon a notable gentleman; I must needs praise him. - -_Ser_. The lord be praised! - -_Pan_. You know me, do you not? - -_Ser_. Faith, sir, superficially. - -_Pan_. Friend, know me better: I am the Lord Pandarus. - -_Ser_. I hope I shall know your honour better. - -_Pan_. I do desire it. - -_Ser_. You are in the state of grace. - -_Pan_. Grace! Not so, friend; honour and lordship are my titles. What -music is this? - -_Ser_. I do but partly know, sir; it is music in parts. - -_Pan_. Know you the musicians? - -_Ser_. Wholly, sir. - -_Pan_. Who play they to? - -_Ser_. To the hearers, sir. - -_Pan_. At whose pleasure, friend? - -_Ser_. At mine, sir, and theirs that love music. - -_Pan_. Command, I mean, friend. - -_Ser_. Who shall I command, sir? - -_Pan_. Friend, we understand not one another: I am to courtly, and thou -art too cunning. At whose request do these men play? - -_Ser_. That’s to’t, indeed, sir. Marry, sir, at the request of Paris my -lord, who is there in person; with him the mortal Venus, the -heart-blood of beauty, love’s invisible soul- - -_Pan_. Who, my cousin, Creſſida? - -_Ser_. No, sir, Helen. Could not you find out that by her attributes? - -_Pan_. It should seem, fellow, that thou hast not seen the Lady -Creſſida. I come to speak with Paris from the Prince Troylus; I will -make a complimental assault upon him, for my business seethes. - -_Ser_. Sodden business! There’s a stew’d phrase indeed! - -Enter Paris and Helena. - -_Pan_. Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair company! Fair -desires, in all fair measure, fairly guide them- especially to you, -fair queen! Fair thoughts be your fair pillow. - -_Hel_. Dear lord, you are full of fair words. - -_Pan_. You speak your fair pleasure, sweet queen. Fair prince, here is -good broken music. - -_Par_. You have broke it, cousin; and by my life, you shall make it -whole again; you shall piece it out with a piece of your performance. - -_Hel_. He is full of harmony. - -_Pan_. Truly, lady, no. - -_Hel_. O, sir- - -_Pan_. Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude. - -_Par_. Well said, my lord. Well, you say so in fits. - -_Pan_. I have business to my lord, dear queen. My lord, will you -vouchsafe me a word? - -_Hel_. Nay, this shall not hedge us out. We’ll hear you sing, -certainly- - -_Pan_. Well sweet queen, you are pleasant with me. But, marry, thus, my -lord: my dear lord and most esteemed friend, your brother Troylus- - -_Hel_. My Lord Pandarus, honey-sweet lord- - -_Pan_. Go to, sweet queen, go to-commends himself most affectionately -to you- - -_Hel_. You shall not bob us out of our melody. If you do, our -melancholy upon your head! - -_Pan_. Sweet queen, sweet queen; that’s a sweet queen, i’ faith. - -_Hel_. And to make a sweet lady sad is a sour offence. - -_Pan_. Nay, that shall not serve your turn; that shall it not, in -truth, la. Nay, I care not for such words; no, no. -And, my lord, he -desires you that, if the King call for him at supper, you will make his -excuse. - -_Hel_. My Lord Pandarus! - -_Pan_. What says my sweet queen, my very very sweet queen? - -_Par_. What exploit’s in hand? Where sups he to-night? - -_Hel_. Nay, but, my lord- - -_Pan_. What says my sweet queen?-My cousin will fall out with you. - -_Hel_. You must not know where he sups. - -_Par_. I’ll lay my life, with my disposer Creſſida. - -_Pan_. No, no, no such matter; you are wide. Come, your disposer is -sick. - -_Par_. Well, I’ll make’s excuse. - -_Pan_. Ay, good my lord. Why should you say Creſſida? No, your poor -disposer’s sick. - -_Par_. I spy. - -_Pan_. You spy! What do you spy?-Come, give me an instrument. Now, -sweet queen. - -_Hel_. Why, this is kindly done. - -_Pan_. My niece is horribly in love with a thing you have, sweet queen. - -_Hel_. She shall have it, my lord, if it be not my Lord Paris. - -_Pan_. He! No, she’ll none of him; they two are twain. - -_Hel_. Falling in, after falling out, may make them three. - -_Pan_. Come, come. I’ll hear no more of this; I’ll sing you a song now. - -_Hel_. Ay, ay, prithee now. By my troth, sweet lord, thou hast a fine -forehead. - -_Pan_. Ay, you may, you may. - -_Hel_. Let thy song be love. This love will undo us all. O Cupid, -Cupid, Cupid! - -_Pan_. Love! Ay, that it shall, i’ faith. - -_Par_. Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but love. - -_Pan_. In good troth, it begins so. -[Sings] - -Love, love, nothing but love, still love, still more! -For, oh, love’s bow -Shoots buck and doe; -The shaft confounds -Not that it wounds, -But tickles still the sore. -These lovers cry, O ho, they die! -Yet that which seems the wound to kill -Doth turn O ho! to ha! ha! he! -So dying love lives still. -O ho! a while, but ha! ha! ha! -O ho! groans out for ha! ha! ha!-hey ho! - -_Hel_. In love, i’ faith, to the very tip of the nose. - -_Par_. He eats nothing but doves, love; and that breeds hot blood, and -hot blood begets hot thoughts, and hot thoughts beget hot deeds, and -hot deeds is love. - -_Pan_. Is this the generation of love: hot blood, hot thoughts, and hot -deeds? Why, they are vipers. Is love a generation of vipers? Sweet -lord, who’s a-field today? - -_Par_. Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the gallantry of -Troy. I would fain have arm’d to-day, but my Nell would not have it so. -How chance my brother Troylus went not? - -_Hel_. He hangs the lip at something. You know all, Lord Pandarus. - -_Pan_. Not I, honey-sweet queen. I long to hear how they spend to-day. -You’ll remember your brother’s excuse? - -_Par_. To a hair. - -_Pan_. Farewell, sweet queen. - -_Hel_. Commend me to your niece. - -_Pan_. I will, sweet queen. Exit. Sound a retreat - -_Par_. They’re come from the field. Let us to Priam’s hall -To greet the warriors. Sweet Helen, I must woo you -To help unarm our Hector. His stubborn buckles, -With these your white enchanting fingers touch’d, -Shall more obey than to the edge of steel -Or force of Greekish sinews; you shall do more -Than all the island kings-disarm great Hector. - -_Hel_. ’Twill make us proud to be his servant, Paris; -Yea, what he shall receive of us in duty -Gives us more palm in beauty than we have, -Yea, overshines ourself. - -_Par_. Sweet, above thought I love thee. -Exeunt - -Enter Pandarus and Boy, meeting - -_Pan_. How now! Where’s thy master? At my cousin Creſſida’s? - -_Boy_. No, sir; he stays for you to conduct him thither. - -Enter Troylus - -_Pan_. O, here he comes. How now, how now! - -_Troy_. Sirrah, walk off. Exit Boy - -_Pan_. Have you seen my cousin? - -_Troy_. No, Pandarus. I stalk about her door -Like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks -Staying for waftage. O, be thou my Charon, -And give me swift transportance to these fields -Where I may wallow in the lily beds -Propos’d for the deserver! O gentle Pandar, -From Cupid’s shoulder pluck his painted wings, -And fly with me to Creſſid! - -_Pan_. Walk here i’ th’ orchard, I’ll bring her straight. -Exit - -_Troy_. I am giddy; expectation whirls me round. -Th’ imaginary relish is so sweet -That it enchants my sense; what will it be -When that the wat’ry palate tastes indeed -Love’s thrice-repured nectar? Death, I fear me; -Swooning destruction; or some joy too fine, -Too subtle-potent, tun’d too sharp in sweetness, -For the capacity of my ruder powers. -I fear it much; and I do fear besides -That I shall lose distinction in my joys; -As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps -The enemy flying. - -Re-enter Pandarus - -_Pan_. She’s making her ready, she’ll come straight; you must be witty -now. She does so blush, and fetches her wind so short, as if she were -fray’d with a sprite. I’ll fetch her. It is the prettiest villain; she -fetches her breath as short as a new-ta’en sparrow. -Exit - -_Troy_. Even such a passion doth embrace my bosom. -My heart beats thicker than a feverous pulse, -And all my powers do their bestowing lose, -Like vassalage at unawares encount’ring -The eye of majesty. - -Re-enter Pandarus With _Creſſid_ - -_Pan_. Come, come, what need you blush? Shame’s a baby.-Here she is -now; swear the oaths now to her that you have sworn to me.- What, are -you gone again? You must be watch’d ere you be made tame, must you? -Come your ways, come your ways; an you draw backward, we’ll put you i’ -th’ fills.-Why do you not speak to her?-Come, draw this curtain and -let’s see your picture. Alas the day, how loath you are to offend -daylight! An ’twere dark, you’d close sooner. So, so; rub on, and kiss -the mistress How now, a kiss in fee-farm! Build there, carpenter; the -air is sweet. Nay, you shall fight your hearts out ere I part you. The -falcon as the tercel, for all the ducks i’ th’ river. Go to, go to. - -_Troy_. You have bereft me of all words, lady. - -_Pan_. Words pay no debts, give her deeds; but she’ll bereave you o’ -th’ deeds too, if she call your activity in question. What, billing -again? Here’s ‘In witness whereof the parties interchangeably.’ Come -in, come in; I’ll go get a fire. Exit - -_Cre_. Will you walk in, my lord? - -_Troy_. O Creſſid, how often have I wish’d me thus! - -_Cre_. Wish’d, my lord! The gods grant-O my lord! - -_Troy_. What should they grant? What makes this pretty abruption? What -too curious dreg espies my sweet lady in the fountain of our love? - -_Cre_. More dregs than water, if my fears have eyes. - -_Troy_. Fears make devils of cherubims; they never see truly. - -_Cre_. Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds safer footing than -blind reason stumbling without fear. To fear the worst oft cures the -worse. - -_Troy_. O, let my lady apprehend no fear! In all Cupid’s pageant there -is presented no monster. - -_Cre_. Nor nothing monstrous neither? - -_Troy_. Nothing, but our undertakings when we vow to weep seas, live in -fire, cat rocks, tame tigers; thinking it harder for our mistress to -devise imposition enough than for us to undergo any difficulty imposed. -This is the monstruosity in love, lady, that the will is infinite, and -the execution confin’d; that the desire is boundless, and the act a -slave to limit. - -_Cre_. They say all lovers swear more performance than they are able, -and yet reserve an ability that they never perform; vowing more than -the perfection of ten, and discharging less than the tenth part of one. -They that have the voice of lions and the act of hares, are they not -monsters? - -_Troy_. Are there such? Such are not we. Praise us as we are tasted, -allow us as we prove; our head shall go bare till merit crown it. No -perfection in reversion shall have a praise in present. We will not -name desert before his birth; and, being born, his addition shall be -humble. Few words to fair faith: Troylus shall be such to Creſſid as -what envy can say worst shall be a mock for his truth; and what truth -can speak truest not truer than Troylus. - -_Cre_. Will you walk in, my lord? - -Re-enter Pandarus - -_Pan_. What, blushing still? Have you not done talking yet? - -_Cre_. Well, uncle, what folly I commit, I dedicate to you. - -_Pan_. I thank you for that; if my lord get a boy of you, you’ll give -him me. Be true to my lord; if he flinch, chide me for it. - -_Troy_. You know now your hostages: your uncle’s word and my firm -faith. - -_Pan_. Nay, I’ll give my word for her too: our kindred, though they be -long ere they are wooed, they are constant being won; they are burs, I -can tell you; they’ll stick where they are thrown. - -_Cre_. Boldness comes to me now and brings me heart. -Prince Troylus, I have lov’d you night and day -For many weary months. - -_Troy_. Why was my Creſſid then so hard to win? - -_Cre_. Hard to seem won; but I was won, my lord, -With the first glance that ever-pardon me. -If I confess much, you will play the tyrant. -I love you now; but till now not so much -But I might master it. In faith, I lie; -My thoughts were like unbridled children, grown -Too headstrong for their mother. See, we fools! -Why have I blabb’d? Who shall be true to us, -When we are so unsecret to ourselves? -But, though I lov’d you well, I woo’d you not; -And yet, good faith, I wish’d myself a man, -Or that we women had men’s privilege -Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue, -For in this rapture I shall surely speak -The thing I shall repent. See, see, your silence, -Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws -My very soul of counsel. Stop my mouth. - -_Troy_. And shall, albeit sweet music issues thence. - -_Pan_. Pretty, i’ faith. - -_Cre_. My lord, I do beseech you, pardon me; -’Twas not my purpose thus to beg a kiss. -I am asham’d. O heavens! what have I done? -For this time will I take my leave, my lord. - -_Troy_. Your leave, sweet Creſſid! - -_Pan_. Leave! An you take leave till to-morrow morning- - -_Cre_. Pray you, content you. - -_Troy_. What offends you, lady? - -_Cre_. Sir, mine own company. - -_Troy_. You cannot shun yourself. - -_Cre_. Let me go and try. -I have a kind of self resides with you; -But an unkind self, that itself will leave -To be another’s fool. I would be gone. -Where is my wit? I know not what I speak. - -_Troy_. Well know they what they speak that speak so wisely. - -_Cre_. Perchance, my lord, I show more craft than love; -And fell so roundly to a large confession -To angle for your thoughts; but you are wise- -Or else you love not; for to be wise and love -Exceeds man’s might; that dwells with gods above. - -_Troy_. O that I thought it could be in a woman- -As, if it can, I will presume in you- -To feed for aye her lamp and flames of love; -To keep her constancy in plight and youth, -Outliving beauty’s outward, with a mind -That doth renew swifter than blood decays! -Or that persuasion could but thus convince me -That my integrity and truth to you -Might be affronted with the match and weight -Of such a winnowed purity in love. -How were I then uplifted! but, alas, -I am as true as truth’s simplicity, -And simpler than the infancy of truth. - -_Cre_. In that I’ll war with you. - -_Troy_. O virtuous fight, -When right with right wars who shall be most right! -True swains in love shall in the world to come -Approve their truth by Troylus, when their rhymes, -Full of protest, of oath, and big compare, -Want similes, truth tir’d with iteration- -As true as steel, as plantage to the moon, -As sun to day, as turtle to her mate, -As iron to adamant, as earth to th’ centre- -Yet, after all comparisons of truth, -As truth’s authentic author to be cited, -‘As true as Troylus’ shall crown up the verse -And sanctify the numbers. - -_Cre_. Prophet may you be! -If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth, -When time is old and hath forgot itself, -When waterdrops have worn the stones of Troy, -And blind oblivion swallow’d cities up, -And mighty states characterless are grated -To dusty nothing-yet let memory -From false to false, among false maids in love, -Upbraid my falsehood when th’ have said ‘As false -As air, as water, wind, or sandy earth, -As fox to lamb, or wolf to heifer’s calf, -Pard to the hind, or stepdame to her son’- -Yea, let them say, to stick the heart of falsehood, -‘As false as Creſſid.’ - -_Pan_. Go to, a bargain made; seal it, seal it; I’ll be the -witness. Here I hold your hand; here my cousin’s. If ever you -prove false one to another, since I have taken such pains to -bring you together, let all pitiful goers- between be call’d -to -the world’s end after my name-call them all Pandars; let all -constant men be Troyluses, all false women Creſſids, and all -brokers between Pandars. Say ‘Amen.’ - -_Troy_. Amen. - -_Cre_. Amen. - -_Pan_. Amen. Whereupon I will show you a chamber -and a bed; which bed, because it shall not speak of your -pretty encounters, press it to death. Away! -And Cupid grant all tongue-tied maidens here, -Bed, chamber, pander, to provide this gear! -Exeunt - -Flourish. Enter Agamemnon, Vlyſſes, Diomedes, Nestor, Aiax, Menelaus, -and Chalcas - -_Cal_. Now, Princes, for the service I have done, -Th’ advantage of the time prompts me aloud -To call for recompense. Appear it to your mind -That, through the sight I bear in things to come, -I have abandon’d Troy, left my possession, -Incurr’d a traitor’s name, expos’d myself -From certain and possess’d conveniences -To doubtful fortunes, sequest’ring from me all -That time, acquaintance, custom, and condition, -Made tame and most familiar to my nature; -And here, to do you service, am become -As new into the world, strange, unacquainted- -I do beseech you, as in way of taste, -To give me now a little benefit -Out of those many regist’red in promise, -Which you say live to come in my behalf. - -_Agam_. What wouldst thou of us, Troian? Make demand. - -_Cal_. You have a Troian prisoner call’d Antenor, -Yesterday took; Troy holds him very dear. -Oft have you-often have you thanks therefore- -Desir’d my Creſſid in right great exchange, -Whom Troy hath still denied; but this Antenor, -I know, is such a wrest in their affairs -That their negotiations all must slack -Wanting his manage; and they will almost -Give us a prince of blood, a son of Priam, -In change of him. Let him be sent, great Princes, -And he shall buy my daughter; and her presence -Shall quite strike off all service I have done -In most accepted pain. - -_Agam_. Let Diomedes bear him, -And bring us Creſſid hither. Calchas shall have -What he requests of us. Good Diomed, -Furnish you fairly for this interchange; -Withal, bring word if Hector will to-morrow -Be answer’d in his challenge. Aiax is ready. - -_Diom_. This shall I undertake; and ’tis a burden -Which I am proud to bear. -Exeunt Diomedes and Chalcas - -Achilles and Patroclus stand in their tent - -_Vlyſ_. Achilles stands i’ th’ entrance of his tent. -Please it our general pass strangely by him, -As if he were forgot; and, Princes all, -Lay negligent and loose regard upon him. -I will come last. ’Tis like he’ll question me -Why such unplausive eyes are bent, why turn’d on him? -If so, I have derision med’cinable -To use between your strangeness and his pride, -Which his own will shall have desire to drink. -It may do good. Pride hath no other glass -To show itself but pride; for supple knees -Feed arrogance and are the proud man’s fees. - -_Agam_. We’ll execute your purpose, and put on -A form of strangeness as we pass along. -So do each lord; and either greet him not, -Or else disdainfully, which shall shake him more -Than if not look’d on. I will lead the way. - -_Achil_. What comes the general to speak with me? -You know my mind. I’ll fight no more ’gainst Troy. - -_Agam_. What says Achilles? Would he aught with us? - -_Nestor_. Would you, my lord, aught with the general? - -_Achil_. No. - -_Nestor_. Nothing, my lord. - -_Agam_. The better. -Exeunt Agamemnon and Nestor - -_Achil_. Good day, good day. - -_Men_. How do you? How do you? -Exit - -_Achil_. What, does the cuckold scorn me? - -_Aiax_. How now, Patroclus? - -_Achil_. Good morrow, Aiax. - -_Aiax_. Ha? - -_Achil_. Good morrow. - -_Aiax_. Ay, and good next day too. -Exit - -_Achil_. What mean these fellows? Know they not Achilles? - -_Patr_. They pass by strangely. They were us’d to bend, -To send their smiles before them to Achilles, -To come as humbly as they us’d to creep -To holy altars. - -_Achil_. What, am I poor of late? -’Tis certain, greatness, once fall’n out with fortune, -Must fall out with men too. What the declin’d is, -He shall as soon read in the eyes of others -As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies, -Show not their mealy wings but to the summer; -And not a man for being simply man -Hath any honour, but honour for those honours -That are without him, as place, riches, and favour, -Prizes of accident, as oft as merit; -Which when they fall, as being slippery standers, -The love that lean’d on them as slippery too, -Doth one pluck down another, and together -Die in the fall. But ’tis not so with me: -Fortune and I are friends; I do enjoy -At ample point all that I did possess -Save these men’s looks; who do, methinks, find out -Something not worth in me such rich beholding -As they have often given. Here is Vlyſſes. -I’ll interrupt his reading. -How now, Vlyſſes! - -_Vlyſ_. Now, great Thetis’ son! - -_Achil_. What are you reading? - -_Vlyſ_. A strange fellow here -Writes me that man-how dearly ever parted, -How much in having, or without or in- -Cannot make boast to have that which he hath, -Nor feels not what he owes, but by reflection; -As when his virtues shining upon others -Heat them, and they retort that heat again -To the first giver. - -_Achil_. This is not strange, Vlyſſes. -The beauty that is borne here in the face -The bearer knows not, but commends itself -To others’ eyes; nor doth the eye itself- -That most pure spirit of sense-behold itself, -Not going from itself; but eye to eye opposed -Salutes each other with each other’s form; -For speculation turns not to itself -Till it hath travell’d, and is mirror’d there -Where it may see itself. This is not strange at all. - -_Vlyſ_. I do not strain at the position- -It is familiar-but at the author’s drift; -Who, in his circumstance, expressly proves -That no man is the lord of anything, -Though in and of him there be much consisting, -Till he communicate his parts to others; -Nor doth he of himself know them for aught -Till he behold them formed in th’ applause -Where th’ are extended; who, like an arch, reverb’rate -The voice again; or, like a gate of steel -Fronting the sun, receives and renders back -His figure and his heat. I was much rapt in this; -And apprehended here immediately -Th’ unknown Aiax. Heavens, what a man is there! -A very horse that has he knows not what! -Nature, what things there are -Most abject in regard and dear in use! -What things again most dear in the esteem -And poor in worth! Now shall we see to-morrow- -An act that very chance doth throw upon him- -Aiax renown’d. O heavens, what some men do, -While some men leave to do! -How some men creep in skittish Fortune’s-hall, -Whiles others play the idiots in her eyes! -How one man eats into another’s pride, -While pride is fasting in his wantonness! -To see these Grecian lords!-why, even already -They clap the lubber Aiax on the shoulder, -As if his foot were on brave Hector’s breast, -And great Troy shrinking. - -_Achil_. I do believe it; for they pass’d by me -As misers do by beggars-neither gave to me -Good word nor look. What, are my deeds forgot? - -_Vlyſ_. Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, -Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, -A great-siz’d monster of ingratitudes. -Those scraps are good deeds past, which are devour’d -As fast as they are made, forgot as soon -As done. Perseverance, dear my lord, -Keeps honour bright. To have done is to hang -Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail -In monumental mock’ry. Take the instant way; -For honour travels in a strait so narrow - -Where one but goes abreast. Keep then the path, -For emulation hath a thousand sons -That one by one pursue; if you give way, -Or hedge aside from the direct forthright, -Like to an ent’red tide they all rush by -And leave you hindmost; -Or, like a gallant horse fall’n in first rank, -Lie there for pavement to the abject rear, -O’er-run and trampled on. Then what they do in present, -Though less than yours in past, must o’ertop yours; -For Time is like a fashionable host, -That slightly shakes his parting guest by th’ hand; -And with his arms out-stretch’d, as he would fly, -Grasps in the corner. The welcome ever smiles, -And farewell goes out sighing. O, let not virtue seek -Remuneration for the thing it was; -For beauty, wit, -High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, -Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all -To envious and calumniating Time. -One touch of nature makes the whole world kin- -That all with one consent praise new-born gawds, -Though they are made and moulded of things past, -And give to dust that is a little gilt -More laud than gilt o’er-dusted. -The present eye praises the present object. -Then marvel not, thou great and complete man, -That all the Greeks begin to worship Aiax, -Since things in motion sooner catch the eye -Than what stirs not. The cry went once on thee, -And still it might, and yet it may again, -If thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive -And case thy reputation in thy tent, -Whose glorious deeds but in these fields of late -Made emulous missions ’mongst the gods themselves, -And drave great Mars to faction. - -_Achil_. Of this my privacy -I have strong reasons. - -_Vlyſ_. But ’gainst your privacy -The reasons are more potent and heroical. -’Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love -With one of Priam’s daughters. - -_Achil_. Ha! known! - -_Vlyſ_. Is that a wonder? -The providence that’s in a watchful state -Knows almost every grain of Plutus’ gold; -Finds bottom in th’ uncomprehensive deeps; -Keeps place with thought, and almost, like the gods, -Do thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles. -There is a mystery-with whom relation -Durst never meddle-in the soul of state, -Which hath an operation more divine -Than breath or pen can give expressure to. -All the commerce that you have had with Troy -As perfectly is ours as yours, my lord; -And better would it fit Achilles much -To throw down Hector than Polyxena. -But it must grieve young Pyrrhus now at home, -When fame shall in our island sound her trump, -And all the Greekish girls shall tripping sing -‘Great Hector’s sister did Achilles win; -But our great Aiax bravely beat down him.’ -Farewell, my lord. I as your lover speak. -The fool slides o’er the ice that you should break. -Exit - -_Patr_. To this effect, Achilles, have I mov’d you. -A woman impudent and mannish grown -Is not more loath’d than an effeminate man -In time of action. I stand condemn’d for this; -They think my little stomach to the war -And your great love to me restrains you thus. -Sweet, rouse yourself; and the weak wanton Cupid -Shall from your neck unloose his amorous fold, -And, like a dew-drop from the lion’s mane, -Be shook to airy air. - -_Achil_. Shall Aiax fight with Hector? - -_Patr_. Ay, and perhaps receive much honour by him. - -_Achil_. I see my reputation is at stake; -My fame is shrewdly gor’d. - -_Patr_. O, then, beware: -Those wounds heal ill that men do give themselves; -Omission to do what is necessary -Seals a commission to a blank of danger; -And danger, like an ague, subtly taints -Even then when they sit idly in the sun. - -_Achil_. Go call Thersites hither, sweet Patroclus. -I’ll send the fool to Aiax, and desire him -T’ invite the Troian lords, after the combat, -To see us here unarm’d. I have a woman’s longing, -An appetite that I am sick withal, -To see great Hector in his weeds of peace; -To talk with him, and to behold his visage, -Even to my full of view. - -Enter Thersites - -A labour sav’d! - -_Ther_. A wonder! - -_Achil_. What? - -_Ther_. Aiax goes up and down the field asking for himself. - -_Achil_. How so? - -_Ther_. He must fight singly to-morrow with Hector, and is so -prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling that he raves in saying -nothing. - -_Achil_. How can that be? - -_Ther_. Why, ’a stalks up and down like a peacock-a stride and a stand; -ruminaies like an hostess that hath no arithmetic but her brain to set -down her reckoning, bites his lip with a politic regard, as who should -say ‘There were wit in this head, an ’twould out’; and so there is; but -it lies as coldly in him as fire in a flint, which will not show -without knocking. The man’s undone for ever; for if Hector break not -his neck i’ th’ combat, he’ll break’t himself in vainglory. He knows -not me. I said ‘Good morrow, Aiax’; and he replies ‘Thanks, Agamemnon.’ -What think you of this man that takes me for the general? He’s grown a -very land fish, languageless, a monster. A plague of opinion! A man may -wear it on both sides, like leather jerkin. - -_Achil_. Thou must be my ambassador to him, Thersites. - -_Ther_. Who, I? Why, he’ll answer nobody; he professes not answering. -Speaking is for beggars: he wears his tongue in’s arms. I will put on -his presence. Let Patroclus make his demands to me, you shall see the -pageant of Aiax. - -_Achil_. To him, Patroclus. Tell him I humbly desire the valiant Aiax -to invite the most valorous Hector to come unarm’d to my tent; and to -procure safe conduct for his person of the magnanimous and most -illustrious six-or-seven-times-honour’d Captain General of the Grecian -army, et cetera, Agamemnon. Do this. - -_Patr_. Jove bless great Aiax! - -_Ther_. Hum! - -_Patr_. I come from the worthy Achilles- - -_Ther_. Ha! - -_Patr_. Who most humbly desires you to invite Hector to his tent- - -_Ther_. Hum! - -_Patr_. And to procure safe conduct from Agamemnon. - -_Ther_. Agamemnon! - -_Patr_. Ay, my lord. - -_Ther_. Ha! - -_Patr_. What you say to’t? - -_Ther_. God buy you, with all my heart. - -_Patr_. Your answer, sir. - -_Ther_. If to-morrow be a fair day, by eleven of the clock it will go -one way or other. Howsoever, he shall pay for me ere he has me. - -_Patr_. Your answer, sir. - -_Ther_. Fare ye well, with all my heart. - -_Achil_. Why, but he is not in this tune, is he? - -_Ther_. No, but he’s out a tune thus. What music will be in him when -Hector has knock’d out his brains I know not; but, I am sure, none; -unless the fiddler Apollo get his sinews to make catlings on. - -_Achil_. Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight. - -_Ther_. Let me carry another to his horse; for that’s the more capable -creature. - -_Achil_. My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirr’d; -And I myself see not the bottom of it. -Exeunt Achilles and Patroclus - -_Ther_. Would the fountain of your mind were clear again, that I might -water an ass at it. I had rather be a tick in a sheep than such a -valiant ignorance. Exit - -Enter, at one side, Æneas, and servant with a torch; at another, Paris, -Diephœbus, Antenor, Diomedes the Grecian, and others, with torches - -_Par_. See, ho! Who is that there? - -_Dieph_. It is the Lord Æneas. - -_Æne_. Is the Prince there in person? -Had I so good occasion to lie long -As you, Prince Paris, nothing but heavenly business -Should rob my bed-mate of my company. - -_Diom_. That’s my mind too. Good morrow, Lord Æneas. - -_Par_. A valiant Greek, Æneas -take his hand: -Witness the process of your speech, wherein -You told how Diomed, a whole week by days, -Did haunt you in the field. - -_Æne_. Health to you, valiant sir, -During all question of the gentle truce; -But when I meet you arm’d, as black defiance -As heart can think or courage execute. - -_Diom_. The one and other Diomed embraces. -Our bloods are now in calm; and so long health! -But when contention and occasion meet, -By Jove, I’ll play the hunter for thy life -With all my force, pursuit, and policy. - -_Æne_. And thou shalt hunt a lion, that will fly -With his face backward. In humane gentleness, -Welcome to Troy! now, by Anchises’ life, -Welcome indeed! By Venus’ hand I swear -No man alive can love in such a sort -The thing he means to kill, more excellently. - -_Diom_. We sympathise. Jove let Æneas live, -If to my sword his fate be not the glory, -A thousand complete courses of the sun! -But in mine emulous honour let him die -With every joint a wound, and that to-morrow! - -_Æne_. We know each other well. -_Diom_. We do; and long to know each other worse. - -_Par_. This is the most despiteful’st gentle greeting -The noblest hateful love, that e’er I heard of. -What business, lord, so early? - -_Æne_. I was sent for to the King; but why, I know not. - -_Par_. His purpose meets you: ’twas to bring this Greek -To Calchas’ house, and there to render him, -For the enfreed Antenor, the fair Creſſid. -Let’s have your company; or, if you please, -Haste there before us. I constantly believe- -Or rather call my thought a certain knowledge- -My brother Troylus lodges there to-night. -Rouse him and give him note of our approach, -With the whole quality wherefore; I fear -We shall be much unwelcome. - -_Æne_. That I assure you: -Troylus had rather Troy were borne to Greece -Than Creſſid borne from Troy. - -_Par_. There is no help; -The bitter disposition of the time -Will have it so. On, lord; we’ll follow you. - -_Æne_. Good morrow, all. Exit with servant - -_Par_. And tell me, noble Diomed-faith, tell me true, -Even in the soul of sound good-fellowship- -Who in your thoughts deserves fair Helen best, -Myself or Menelaus? - -_Diom_. Both alike: -He merits well to have her that doth seek her, -Not making any scruple of her soilure, -With such a hell of pain and world of charge; -And you as well to keep her that defend her, -Not palating the taste of her dishonour, -With such a costly loss of wealth and friends. -He like a puling cuckold would drink up -The lees and dregs of a flat tamed piece; -You, like a lecher, out of whorish loins -Are pleas’d to breed out your inheritors. -Both merits pois’d, each weighs nor less nor more; -But he as he, the heavier for a whore. - -_Par_. You are too bitter to your country-woman. - -_Diom_. She’s bitter to her country. Hear me, Paris: -For every false drop in her bawdy veins -A Grecian’s life hath sunk; for every scruple -Of her contaminated carrion weight -A Troian hath been slain; since she could speak, -She hath not given so many good words breath -As for her Greeks and Troians suff’red death. - -_Par_. Fair Diomed, you do as chapmen do, -Dispraise the thing that you desire to buy; -But we in silence hold this virtue well: -We’ll not commend what we intend to sell. -Here lies our way. -Exeunt - -Enter Troylus and _Creſſid_ - -_Troy_. Dear, trouble not yourself; the morn is cold. - -_Cre_. Then, sweet my lord, I’ll call mine uncle down; -He shall unbolt the gates. - -_Troy_. Trouble him not; -To bed, to bed! Sleep kill those pretty eyes, -And give as soft attachment to thy senses -As infants’ empty of all thought! - -_Cre_. Good morrow, then. - -_Troy_. I prithee now, to bed. - -_Cre_. Are you aweary of me? - -_Troy_. O Creſſida! but that the busy day, -Wak’d by the lark, hath rous’d the ribald crows, -And dreaming night will hide our joys no longer, -I would not from thee. - -_Cre_. Night hath been too brief. - -_Troy_. Beshrew the witch! with venomous wights she stays -As tediously as hell, but flies the grasps of love -With wings more momentary-swift than thought. -You will catch cold, and curse me. - -_Cre_. Prithee tarry. -You men will never tarry. -O foolish Creſſid! I might have still held off, -And then you would have tarried. Hark! there’s one up. - -_Pan_. [Within] What’s all the doors open here? - -_Troy_. It is your uncle. - -Enter Pandarus - -_Cre_. A pestilence on him! Now will he be mocking. -I shall have such a life! - -_Pan_. How now, how now! How go maidenheads? -Here, you maid! Where’s my cousin Creſſid? - -_Cre_. Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle. -You bring me to do, and then you flout me too. - -_Pan_. To do what? to do what? Let her say what. -What have I brought you to do? - -_Cre_. Come, come, beshrew your heart! You’ll ne’er be good, - -Nor suffer others. - -_Pan_. Ha, ha! Alas, poor wretch! a poor capocchia! hast not slept -to-night? Would he not, a naughty man, let it sleep? A bugbear take -him! - -_Cre_. Did not I tell you? Would he were knock’d i’ th’ head! [One -knocks] -Who’s that at door? Good uncle, go and see. -My lord, come you again into my chamber. -You smile and mock me, as if I meant naughtily. - -_Troy_. Ha! ha! - -_Cre_. Come, you are deceiv’d, I think of no such thing. -[Knock] -How earnestly they knock! Pray you come in: -I would not for half Troy have you seen here. -Exeunt Troylus and _Creſſid_ - -_Pan_. Who’s there? What’s the matter? Will you beat down the door? How -now? What’s the matter? - -Enter Æneas - -_Æne_. Good morrow, lord, good morrow. - -_Pan_. Who’s there? My lord Æneas? By my troth, I knew you not. What -news with you so early? - -_Æne_. Is not Prince Troylus here? - -_Pan_. Here! What should he do here? - -_Æne_. Come, he is here, my lord; do not deny him. -It doth import him much to speak with me. - -_Pan_. Is he here, say you? It’s more than I know, I’ll be sworn. For -my own part, I came in late. What should he do here? - -_Æne_. Who!-nay, then. Come, come, you’ll do him wrong ere you are -ware; you’ll be so true to him to be false to him. Do not you know of -him, but yet go fetch him hither; go. - -Re-enter Troylus - -_Troy_. How now! What’s the matter? - -_Æne_. My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you, -My matter is so rash. There is at hand -Paris your brother, and Deiphobus, -The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor -Deliver’d to us; and for him forthwith, -Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour, -We must give up to Diomedes’ hand -The Lady Creſſida. - -_Troy_. Is it so concluded? - -_Æne_. By Priam, and the general state of Troy. -They are at hand and ready to effect it. - -_Troy_. How my achievements mock me! -I will go meet them; and, my lord Æneas, -We met by chance; you did not find me here. - -_Æne_. Good, good, my lord, the secrets of neighbour Pandar -Have not more gift in taciturnity. -Exeunt Troylus and Æneas - -_Pan_. Is’t possible? No sooner got but lost? The devil take Antenor! -The young prince will go mad. A plague upon Antenor! I would they had -broke’s neck. - -Re-enter _Creſſid_ - -_Cre_. How now! What’s the matter? Who was here? - -_Pan_. Ah, ah! - -_Cre_. Why sigh you so profoundly? Where’s my lord? Gone? Tell me, -sweet uncle, what’s the matter? - -_Pan_. Would I were as deep under the earth as I am above! - -_Cre_. O the gods! What’s the matter? - -_Pan_. Pray thee, get thee in. Would thou hadst ne’er been born! I knew -thou wouldst be his death! O, poor gentleman! A plague upon Antenor! - -_Cre_. Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees I beseech you, what’s the -matter? - -_Pan_. Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone; thou art chang’d -for Antenor; thou must to thy father, and be gone from Troylus. ’Twill -be his death; ’twill be his bane; he cannot bear it. - -_Cre_. O you immortal gods! I will not go. - -_Pan_. Thou must. - -_Cre_. I will not, uncle. I have forgot my father; -I know no touch of consanguinity, -No kin, no love, no blood, no soul so near me -As the sweet Troylus. O you gods divine, -Make Creſſid’s name the very crown of falsehood, -If ever she leave Troylus! Time, force, and death, -Do to this body what extremes you can, -But the strong base and building of my love -Is as the very centre of the earth, -Drawing all things to it. I’ll go in and weep- - -_Pan_. Do, do. - -_Cre_. Tear my bright hair, and scratch my praised cheeks, -Crack my clear voice with sobs and break my heart, -With sounding ‘Troylus.’ I will not go from Troy. -Exeunt - -Enter Paris, Troylus, Æneas, Diephœbus, Antenor, and Diomedes - -_Par_. It is great morning; and the hour prefix’d -For her delivery to this valiant Greek -Comes fast upon. Good my brother Troylus, -Tell you the lady what she is to do -And haste her to the purpose. - -_Troy_. Walk into her house. -I’ll bring her to the Grecian presently; -And to his hand when I deliver her, -Think it an altar, and thy brother Troylus -A priest, there off’ring to it his own heart. -Exit - -_Par_. I know what ’tis to love, -And would, as I shall pity, I could help! -Please you walk in, my lords. -Exeunt - -Enter Pandarus and _Creſſid_ - -_Pan_. Be moderate, be moderate. - -_Cre_. Why tell you me of moderation? -The grief is fine, full, perfect, that I taste, -And violenteth in a sense as strong -As that which causeth it. How can I moderate it? -If I could temporize with my affections -Or brew it to a weak and colder palate, -The like allayment could I give my grief. -My love admits no qualifying dross; -No more my grief, in such a precious loss. - -Enter Troylus - -_Pan_. Here, here, here he comes. Ah, sweet ducks! - -_Cre_. O Troylus! Troylus! [Embracing him] - -_Pan_. What a pair of spectacles is here! Let me embrace too. ‘O -heart,’ as the goodly saying is, O heart, heavy heart, Why sigh’st thou -without breaking? where he answers again -Because thou canst not ease thy smart -By friendship nor by speaking. -There was never a truer rhyme. Let us cast away nothing, for we may -live to have need of such a verse. We see it, we see it. How now, -lambs! - -_Troy_. Creſſid, I love thee in so strain’d a purity -That the bless’d gods, as angry with my fancy, -More bright in zeal than the devotion which -Cold lips blow to their deities, take thee from me. - -_Cre_. Have the gods envy? - -_Pan_. Ay, ay, ay; ’tis too plain a case. - -_Cre_. And is it true that I must go from Troy? - -_Troy_. A hateful truth. - -_Cre_. What, and from Troylus too? - -_Troy_. From Troy and Troylus. - -_Cre_. Is’t possible? - -_Troy_. And suddenly; where injury of chance -Puts back leave-taking, justles roughly by -All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips -Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents -Our lock’d embrasures, strangles our dear vows -Even in the birth of our own labouring breath. -We two, that with so many thousand sighs -Did buy each other, must poorly sell ourselves -With the rude brevity and discharge of one. -Injurious time now with a robber’s haste -Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how. -As many farewells as be stars in heaven, -With distinct breath and consign’d kisses to them, -He fumbles up into a loose adieu, -And scants us with a single famish’d kiss, -Distasted with the salt of broken tears. - -_Æne_. [Within] My lord, is the lady ready? - -_Troy_. Hark! you are call’d. Some say the Genius so -Cries ‘Come’ to him that instantly must die. -Bid them have patience; she shall come anon. - -_Pan_. Where are my tears? Rain, to lay this wind, or my heart will be -blown up by th’ root? -Exit - -_Cre_. I must then to the Grecians? - -_Troy_. No remedy. - -_Cre_. A woeful Creſſid ’mongst the merry Greeks! -When shall we see again? - -_Troy_. Hear me, my love. Be thou but true of heart- - -_Cre_. I true! how now! What wicked deem is this? - -_Troy_. Nay, we must use expostulation kindly, -For it is parting from us. -I speak not ‘Be thou true’ as fearing thee, -For I will throw my glove to Death himself -That there’s no maculation in thy heart; -But ‘Be thou true’ say I to fashion in -My sequent protestation: be thou true, -And I will see thee. - -_Cre_. O, you shall be expos’d, my lord, to dangers -As infinite as imminent! But I’ll be true. - -_Troy_. And I’ll grow friend with danger. Wear this sleeve. - -_Cre_. And you this glove. When shall I see you? - -_Troy_. I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels -To give thee nightly visitation. -But yet be true. - -_Cre_. O heavens! ‘Be true’ again! - -_Troy_. Hear why I speak it, love. -The Grecian youths are full of quality; -They’re loving, well compos’d with gifts of nature, -And flowing o’er with arts and exercise. -How novelties may move, and parts with person, -Alas, a kind of godly jealousy, -Which I beseech you call a virtuous sin, -Makes me afeard. - -_Cre_. O heavens! you love me not. - -_Troy_. 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. - -_Cre_. Do you think I will? - -_Troy_. 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. - -_Æne_. [Within] Nay, good my lord! - -_Troy_. Come, kiss; and let us part. - -_Par_. [Within] Brother Troylus! - -_Troy_. Good brother, come you hither; -And bring Æneas and the Grecian with you. - -_Cre_. My lord, will you be true? - -_Troy_. Who, I? Alas, it is my vice, my fault! -Whiles others fish with craft for great opinion, -I with great truth catch mere simplicity; -Whilst some with cunning gild their copper crowns, -With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare. - -Enter Æneas, Paris, Antenor, Diephœbus, and Diomedes - -Fear not my truth: the moral of my wit -Is ‘plain and true’; there’s all the reach of it. -Welcome, Sir Diomed! Here is the lady -Which for Antenor we deliver you; -At the port, lord, I’ll give her to thy hand, -And by the way possess thee what she is. -Entreat her fair; and, by my soul, fair Greek, -If e’er thou stand at mercy of my sword, -Name Creſſid, and thy life shall be as safe -As Priam is in Ilion. - -_Diom_. Fair Lady Creſſid, -So please you, save the thanks this prince expects. -The lustre in your eye, heaven in your cheek, -Pleads your fair usage; and to Diomed -You shall be mistress, and command him wholly. - -_Troy_. Grecian, thou dost not use me courteously -To shame the zeal of my petition to the -In praising her. I tell thee, lord of Greece, -She is as far high-soaring o’er thy praises -As thou unworthy to be call’d her servant. -I charge thee use her well, even for my charge; -For, by the dreadful Pluto, if thou dost not, -Though the great bulk Achilles be thy guard, -I’ll cut thy throat. - -_Diom_. O, be not mov’d, Prince Troylus. -Let me be privileg’d by my place and message -To be a speaker free: when I am hence -I’ll answer to my lust. And know you, lord, -I’ll nothing do on charge: to her own worth -She shall be priz’d. But that you say ‘Be’t so,’ -I speak it in my spirit and honour, ‘No.’ - -_Troy_. Come, to the port. I’ll tell thee, Diomed, -This brave shall oft make thee to hide thy head. -Lady, give me your hand; and, as we walk, -To our own selves bend we our needful talk. -Exeunt Troylus, _Creſſid_, and Diomedes -[Sound -trumpet] - -_Par_. Hark! Hector’s trumpet. - -_Æne_. How have we spent this morning! -The Prince must think me tardy and remiss, -That swore to ride before him to the field. - -_Par_. ’Tis Troylus’ fault. Come, come to field with him. - -_Dieph_. Let us make ready straight. - -_Æne_. Yea, with a bridegroom’s fresh alacrity -Let us address to tend on Hector’s heels. -The glory of our Troy doth this day lie -On his fair worth and single chivalry. -Exeunt - -Enter Aiax, armed; Agamemnon, Achilles, Patroclus, Menelaus, Vlyſſes, -Nestor, and others - -_Agam_. Here art thou in appointment fresh and fair, -Anticipating time with starting courage. -Give with thy trumpet a loud note to Troy, -Thou dreadful Aiax, that the appalled air -May pierce the head of the great combatant, -And hale him hither. - -_Aiax_. Thou, trumpet, there’s my purse. -Now crack thy lungs and split thy brazen pipe; -Blow, villain, till thy sphered bias cheek -Out-swell the colic of puff Aquilon’d. -Come, stretch thy chest, and let thy eyes spout blood: -Thou blowest for Hector. [Trumpet sounds] - -_Vlyſ_. No trumpet answers. - -_Achil_. ’Tis but early days. - -Enter Diomedes, with _Creſſid_ - -_Agam_. Is not yond Diomed, with Calchas’ daughter? - -_Vlyſ_. ’Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait: -He rises on the toe. That spirit of his -In aspiration lifts him from the earth. - -_Agam_. Is this the lady Creſſid? - -_Diom_. Even she. - -_Agam_. Most dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet lady. - -_Nestor_. Our general doth salute you with a kiss. - -_Vlyſ_. Yet is the kindness but particular; -’Twere better she were kiss’d in general. - -_Nestor_. And very courtly counsel: I’ll begin. -So much for Nestor. - -_Achil_. I’ll take that winter from your lips, fair lady. -Achilles bids you welcome. - -_Men_. I had good argument for kissing once. - -_Patr_. But that’s no argument for kissing now; -For thus popp’d Paris in his hardiment, -And parted thus you and your argument. - -_Vlyſ_. O deadly gall, and theme of all our scorns! -For which we lose our heads to gild his horns. - -_Patr_. The first was Menelaus’ kiss; this, mine- -[Kisses her again] -Patroclus kisses you. - -_Men_. O, this is trim! - -_Patr_. Paris and I kiss evermore for him. - -_Men_. I’ll have my kiss, sir. Lady, by your leave. - -_Cre_. In kissing, do you render or receive? - -_Patr_. Both take and give. - -_Cre_. I’ll make my match to live, -The kiss you take is better than you give; -Therefore no kiss. - -_Men_. I’ll give you boot; I’ll give you three for one. - -_Cre_. You are an odd man; give even or give none. - -_Men_. An odd man, lady? Every man is odd. - -_Cre_. No, Paris is not; for you know ’tis true -That you are odd, and he is even with you. - -_Men_. You fillip me o’ th’ head. - -_Cre_. No, I’ll be sworn. - -_Vlyſ_. It were no match, your nail against his horn. -May I, sweet lady, beg a kiss of you? - -_Cre_. You may. - -_Vlyſ_. I do desire it. - -_Cre_. Why, beg then. - -_Vlyſ_. Why then, for Venus’ sake give me a kiss -When Helen is a maid again, and his. - -_Cre_. I am your debtor; claim it when ’tis due. - -_Vlyſ_. Never’s my day, and then a kiss of you. - -_Diom_. Lady, a word. I’ll bring you to your father. -Exit with _Creſſid_ - -_Nestor_. A woman of quick sense. - -_Vlyſ_. Fie, fie upon her! -There’s language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, -Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out -At every joint and motive of her body. -O these encounters so glib of tongue -That give a coasting welcome ere it comes, -And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts -To every ticklish reader! Set them down -For sluttish spoils of opportunity, -And daughters of the game. [Trumpet within] - -_All_. The Troians trumpet. - -Enter Hector, armed; Æneas, Troylus, Paris, Hellenus, -and other Trojans, with attendants - -_Agam_. Yonder comes the troop. - -_Æne_. Hail, all the state of Greece! What shall be done -To him that victory commands? Or do you purpose -A victor shall be known? Will you the knights -Shall to the edge of all extremity -Pursue each other, or shall they be divided -By any voice or order of the field? -Hector bade ask. - -_Agam_. Which way would Hector have it? - -_Æne_. He cares not; he’ll obey conditions. - -_Achil_. ’Tis done like Hector; but securely done, -A little proudly, and great deal misprizing -The knight oppos’d. - -_Æne_. If not Achilles, sir, -What is your name? - -_Achil_. If not Achilles, nothing. - -_Æne_. Therefore Achilles. But whate’er, know this: -In the extremity of great and little -Valour and pride excel themselves in Hector; -The one almost as infinite as all, -The other blank as nothing. Weigh him well, -And that which looks like pride is courtesy. -This Aiax is half made of Hector’s blood; -In love whereof half Hector stays at home; -Half heart, half hand, half Hector comes to seek -This blended knight, half Troian and half Greek. - -_Achil_. A maiden battle then? O, I perceive you! - -Re-enter Diomedes - -_Agam_. Here is Sir Diomed. Go, gentle knight, -Stand by our Aiax. As you and Lord ]Eneas -Consent upon the order of their fight, -So be it; either to the uttermost, -Or else a breath. The combatants being kin -Half stints their strife before their strokes begin. -[Aiax and Hector enter the lists] - -_Vlyſ_. They are oppos’d already. - -_Agam_. What Troian is that same that looks so heavy? - -_Vlyſ_. The youngest son of Priam, a true knight; -Not yet mature, yet matchless; firm of word; -Speaking in deeds and deedless in his tongue; -Not soon provok’d, nor being provok’d soon calm’d; -His heart and hand both open and both free; -For what he has he gives, what thinks he shows, -Yet gives he not till judgement guide his bounty, -Nor dignifies an impair thought with breath; -Manly as Hector, but more dangerous; -For Hector in his blaze of wrath subscribes -To tender objects, but he in heat of action -Is more vindicative than jealous love. -They call him Troylus, and on him erect -A second hope as fairly built as Hector. -Thus says Æneas, one that knows the youth -Even to his inches, and, with private soul, -Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me. -[Alarum. Hector and Aiax fight] - -_Agam_. They are in action. - -_Nestor_. Now, Aiax, hold thine own! - -_Troy_. Hector, thou sleep’st; -Awake thee. - -_Agam_. His blows are well dispos’d. There, Aiax! -[Trumpets cease] - -_Diom_. You must no more. - -_Æne_. Princes, enough, so please you. - -_Aiax_. I am not warm yet; let us fight again. - -_Diom_. As Hector pleases. - -_Hect_. Why, then will I no more. -Thou art, great lord, my father’s sister’s son, -A cousin-german to great Priam’s seed; -The obligation of our blood forbids -A gory emulation ’twixt us twain: -Were thy commixtion Greek and Troian so -That thou could’st say ‘This hand is Grecian all, -And this is Troian; the sinews of this leg -All Greek, and this all Troy; my mother’s blood -Runs on the dexter cheek, and this sinister -Bounds in my father’s’; by Jove multipotent, -Thou shouldst not bear from me a Greekish member -Wherein my sword had not impressure made -Of our rank feud; but the just gods gainsay -That any drop thou borrow’dst from thy mother, -My sacred aunt, should by my mortal sword -Be drained! Let me embrace thee, Aiax. -By him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms; -Hector would have them fall upon him thus. -Cousin, all honour to thee! - -_Aiax_. I thank thee, Hector. -Thou art too gentle and too free a man. -I came to kill thee, cousin, and bear hence -A great addition earned in thy death. - -_Hect_. Not Neoptolemus so mirable, -On whose bright crest Fame with her loud’st Oyes -Cries ‘This is he’ could promise to himself -A thought of added honour torn from Hector. - -_Æne_. There is expectance here from both the sides -What further you will do. - -_Hect_. We’ll answer it: -The issue is embracement. Aiax, farewell. - -_Aiax_. If I might in entreaties find success, -As seld I have the chance, I would desire -My famous cousin to our Grecian tents. - -_Diom_. ’Tis Agamemnon’s wish; and great Achilles -Doth long to see unarm’d the valiant Hector. - -_Hect_. Æneas, call my brother Troylus to me, -And signify this loving interview -To the expecters of our Troian part; -Desire them home. Give me thy hand, my cousin; -I will go eat with thee, and see your knights. - -Agamemnon and the rest of the Greeks come forward - -_Aiax_. Great Agamemnon comes to meet us here. - -_Hect_. The worthiest of them tell me name by name; -But for Achilles, my own searching eyes -Shall find him by his large and portly size. - -_Agam_. Worthy all arms! as welcome as to one -That would be rid of such an enemy. -But that’s no welcome. Understand more clear, -What’s past and what’s to come is strew’d with husks -And formless ruin of oblivion; -But in this extant moment, faith and troth, -Strain’d purely from all hollow bias-drawing, -Bids thee with most divine integrity, -From heart of very heart, great Hector, welcome. - -_Hect_. I thank thee, most imperious Agamemnon. - -_Agam_. [To Troylus] My well-fam’d lord of Troy, no less to you. - -_Men_. Let me confirm my princely brother’s greeting. -You brace of warlike brothers, welcome hither. - -_Hect_. Who must we answer? - -_Æne_. The noble Menelaus. - -_Hect_. O you, my lord? By Mars his gauntlet, thanks! -Mock not that I affect the untraded oath; -Your quondam wife swears still by Venus’ glove. -She’s well, but bade me not commend her to you. - -_Men_. Name her not now, sir; she’s a deadly theme. - -_Hect_. O, pardon; I offend. - -_Nestor_. I have, thou gallant Troian, seen thee oft, -Labouring for destiny, make cruel way -Through ranks of Greekish youth; and I have seen thee, -As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed, -Despising many forfeits and subduements, -When thou hast hung thy advanced sword i’ th’ air, -Not letting it decline on the declined; -That I have said to some my standers-by -‘Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life!’ -And I have seen thee pause and take thy breath, -When that a ring of Greeks have hemm’d thee in, -Like an Olympian wrestling. This have I seen; -But this thy countenance, still lock’d in steel, -I never saw till now. I knew thy grandsire, -And once fought with him. He was a soldier good, -But, by great Mars, the captain of us all, -Never like thee. O, let an old man embrace thee; -And, worthy warrior, welcome to our tents. - -_Æne_. ’Tis the old Nestor. - -_Hect_. Let me embrace thee, good old chronicle, -That hast so long walk’d hand in hand with time. -Most reverend Nestor, I am glad to clasp thee. - -_Nestor_. I would my arms could match thee in contention -As they contend with thee in courtesy. - -_Hect_. I would they could. - -_Nestor_. Ha! -By this white beard, I’d fight with thee to-morrow. -Well, welcome, welcome! I have seen the time. - -_Vlyſ_. I wonder now how yonder city stands, -When we have here her base and pillar by us. - -_Hect_. I know your favour, Lord Vlyſſes, well. -Ah, sir, there’s many a Greek and Troian dead, -Since first I saw yourself and Diomed -In Ilion on your Greekish embassy. - -_Vlyſ_. Sir, I foretold you then what would ensue. -My prophecy is but half his journey yet; -For yonder walls, that pertly front your town, -Yond towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds, -Must kiss their own feet. - -_Hect_. I must not believe you. -There they stand yet; and modestly I think -The fall of every Phrygian stone will cost -A drop of Grecian blood. The end crowns all; -And that old common arbitrator, Time, -Will one day end it. - -_Vlyſ_. So to him we leave it. -Most gentle and most valiant Hector, welcome. -After the General, I beseech you next -To feast with me and see me at my tent. - -_Achil_. I shall forestall thee, Lord Vlyſſes, thou! -Now, Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee; -I have with exact view perus’d thee, Hector, -And quoted joint by joint. - -_Hect_. Is this Achilles? - -_Achil_. I am Achilles. - -_Hect_. Stand fair, I pray thee; let me look on thee. - -_Achil_. Behold thy fill. - -_Hect_. Nay, I have done already. - -_Achil_. Thou art too brief. I will the second time, -As I would buy thee, view thee limb by limb. - -_Hect_. O, like a book of sport thou’lt read me o’er; -But there’s more in me than thou understand’st. -Why dost thou so oppress me with thine eye? - -_Achil_. Tell me, you heavens, in which part of his body -Shall I destroy him? Whether there, or there, or there? -That I may give the local wound a name, -And make distinct the very breach whereout -Hector’s great spirit flew. Answer me, heavens. - -_Hect_. It would discredit the blest gods, proud man, -To answer such a question. Stand again. -Think’st thou to catch my life so pleasantly -As to prenominate in nice conjecture -Where thou wilt hit me dead? - -_Achil_. I tell thee yea. - -_Hect_. Wert thou an oracle to tell me so, -I’d not believe thee. Henceforth guard thee well; -For I’ll not kill thee there, nor there, nor there; -But, by the forge that stithied Mars his helm, -I’ll kill thee everywhere, yea, o’er and o’er. -You wisest Grecians, pardon me this brag. -His insolence draws folly from my lips; -But I’ll endeavour deeds to match these words, -Or may I never- - -_Aiax_. Do not chafe thee, cousin; -And you, Achilles, let these threats alone -Till accident or purpose bring you to’t. -You may have every day enough of Hector, -If you have stomach. The general state, I fear, -Can scarce entreat you to be odd with him. - -_Hect_. I pray you let us see you in the field; -We have had pelting wars since you refus’d -The Grecians’ cause. - -_Achil_. Dost thou entreat me, Hector? -To-morrow do I meet thee, fell as death; -To-night all friends. - -_Hect_. Thy hand upon that match. - -_Agam_. First, all you peers of Greece, go to my tent; -There in the full convive we; afterwards, -As Hector’s leisure and your bounties shall -Concur together, severally entreat him. -Beat loud the tambourines, let the trumpets blow, -That this great soldier may his welcome know. -Exeunt all but Troylus and Vlyſſes - -_Troy_. My Lord Vlyſſes, tell me, I beseech you, -In what place of the field doth Calchas keep? - -_Vlyſ_. At Menelaus’ tent, most princely Troylus. -There Diomed doth feast with him to-night, -Who neither looks upon the heaven nor earth, -But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view -On the fair Creſſid. - -_Troy_. Shall I, sweet lord, be bound to you so much, -After we part from Agamemnon’s tent, -To bring me thither? - -_Vlyſ_. You shall command me, sir. -As gentle tell me of what honour was -This Creſſida in Troy? Had she no lover there -That wails her absence? - -_Troy_. O, sir, to such as boasting show their scars -A mock is due. Will you walk on, my lord? -She was belov’d, she lov’d; she is, and doth; -But still sweet love is food for fortune’s tooth. -Exeunt - -Enter Achilles and Patroclus - -_Achil_. I’ll heat his blood with Greekish wine to-night, -Which with my scimitar I’ll cool to-morrow. -Patroclus, let us feast him to the height. - -_Patr_. Here comes Thersites. - -Enter Thersites - -_Achil_. How now, thou core of envy! -Thou crusty batch of nature, what’s the news? - -_Ther_. Why, thou picture of what thou seemest, and idol of idiot -worshippers, here’s a letter for thee. - -_Achil_. From whence, fragment? - -_Ther_. Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy. - -_Patr_. Who keeps the tent now? - -_Ther_. The surgeon’s box or the patient’s wound. - -_Patr_. Well said, Adversity! and what needs these tricks? - -_Ther_. Prithee, be silent, boy; I profit not by thy talk; thou art -said to be Achilles’ male varlet. - -_Patr_. Male varlet, you rogue! What’s that? - -_Ther_. Why, his masculine whore. Now, the rotten diseases of the -south, the guts-griping ruptures, catarrhs, loads o’ gravel in the -back, lethargies, cold palsies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten livers, wheezing -lungs, bladders full of imposthume, sciaticas, limekilns i’ th’ palm, -incurable bone-ache, and the rivelled fee- simple of the tetter, take -and take again such preposterous discoveries! - -_Patr_. Why, thou damnable box of envy, thou, what meanest thou to -curse thus? - -_Ther_. Do I curse thee? - -_Patr_. Why, no, you ruinous butt; you whoreson indistinguishable cur, -no. - -_Ther_. No! Why art thou, then, exasperate, thou idle immaterial skein -of sleid silk, thou green sarcenet flap for a sore eye, thou tassel of -a prodigal’s purse, thou? Ah, how the poor world is pest’red with such -water-flies-diminutives of nature! - -_Patr_. Out, gall! - -_Ther_. Finch egg! - -_Achil_. My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite -From my great purpose in to-morrow’s battle. -Here is a letter from Queen Hecuba, -A token from her daughter, my fair love, -Both taxing me and gaging me to keep -An oath that I have sworn. I will not break it. -Fall Greeks; fail fame; honour or go or stay; -My major vow lies here, this I’ll obey. -Come, come, Thersites, help to trim my tent; -This night in banqueting must all be spent. -Away, Patroclus! Exit with Patroclus - -_Ther_. With too much blood and too little brain these two may run mad; -but, if with too much brain and to little blood they do, I’ll be a -curer of madmen. Here’s Agamemnon, an honest fellow enough, and one -that loves quails, but he has not so much brain as ear-wax; and the -goodly transformation of Jupiter there, his brother, the bull, the -primitive statue and oblique memorial of cuckolds, a thrifty -shoeing-horn in a chain, hanging at his brother’s leg-to what form but -that he is, should wit larded with malice, and malice forced with wit, -turn him to? To an ass, were nothing: he is both ass and ox. To an ox, -were nothing: he is both ox and ass. To be a dog, a mule, a cat, a -fitchew, a toad, a lizard, an owl, a put-tock, or a herring without a -roe, I would not care; but to be Menelaus, I would conspire against -destiny. Ask me not what I would be, if I were not Thersites; for I -care not to be the louse of a lazar, so I were not Menelaus. Hey-day! -sprites and fires! - -Enter Hector, Troylus, Aiax, Agamemnon, Vlyſſes, Nestor, Menelaus, and -Diomedes, with lights - -_Agam_. We go wrong, we go wrong. - -_Aiax_. No, yonder ’tis; -There, where we see the lights. - -_Hect_. I trouble you. - -_Aiax_. No, not a whit. - -Re-enter Achilles - -_Vlyſ_. Here comes himself to guide you. - -_Achil_. Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, Princes all. - -_Agam_. So now, fair Prince of Troy, I bid good night; -Aiax commands the guard to tend on you. - -_Hect_. Thanks, and good night to the Greeks’ general. - -_Men_. Good night, my lord. - -_Hect_. Good night, sweet Lord Menelaus. - -_Ther_. Sweet draught! ‘Sweet’ quoth ’a? -Sweet sink, sweet sewer! - -_Achil_. Good night and welcome, both at once, to those -That go or tarry. - -_Agam_. Good night. -Exeunt Agamemnon and Menelaus - -_Achil_. Old Nestor tarries; and you too, Diomed, -Keep Hector company an hour or two. - -_Diom_. I cannot, lord; I have important business, -The tide whereof is now. Good night, great Hector. - -_Hect_. Give me your hand. - -_Vlyſ_. [Aside to Troylus] Follow his torch; he goes to -Calchas’ tent; I’ll keep you company. - -_Troy_. Sweet sir, you honour me. - -_Hect_. And so, good night. -Exit Diomedes; Vlyſſes and Troylus following - -_Achil_. Come, come, enter my tent. -Exeunt all but Thersites - -_Ther_. That same Diomed’s a false-hearted rogue, a most unjust knave; -I will no more trust him when he leers than I will a serpent when he -hisses. He will spend his mouth and promise, like Brabbler the hound; -but when he performs, astronomers foretell it: it is prodigious, there -will come some change; the sun borrows of the moon when Diomed keeps -his word. I will rather leave to see Hector than not to dog him. They -say he keeps a Troian drab, and uses the traitor Calchas’ tent. I’ll -after. Nothing but lechery! All incontinent varlets! Exit - -Enter Diomedes - -_Diom_. What, are you up here, ho? Speak. - -_Cal_. [Within] Who calls? - -_Diom_. Diomed. Calchas, I think. Where’s your daughter? - -_Cal_. [Within] She comes to you. - -Enter Troylus and Vlyſſes, at a distance; after them Thersites - -_Vlyſ_. Stand where the torch may not discover us. - -Enter _Creſſid_ - -_Troy_. Creſſid comes forth to him. - -_Diom_. How now, my charge! - -_Cre_. Now, my sweet guardian! Hark, a word with you. -[Whispers] - -_Troy_. Yea, so familiar! - -_Vlyſ_. She will sing any man at first sight. - -_Ther_. And any man may sing her, if he can take her cliff; she’s -noted. - -_Diom_. Will you remember? - -_Cre_. Remember? Yes. - -_Diom_. Nay, but do, then; -And let your mind be coupled with your words. - -_Troy_. What shall she remember? - -_Vlyſ_. List! - -_Cre_. Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly. - -_Ther_. Roguery! - -_Diom_. Nay, then- - -_Cre_. I’ll tell you what- - -_Diom_. Fo, fo! come, tell a pin; you are a forsworn- - -_Cre_. In faith, I cannot. What would you have me do? - -_Ther_. A juggling trick, to be secretly open. - -_Diom_. What did you swear you would bestow on me? - -_Cre_. I prithee, do not hold me to mine oath; -Bid me do anything but that, sweet Greek. - -_Diom_. Good night. - -_Troy_. Hold, patience! - -_Vlyſ_. How now, Troian! - -_Cre_. Diomed! - -_Diom_. No, no, good night; I’ll be your fool no more. - -_Troy_. Thy better must. - -_Cre_. Hark! a word in your ear. - -_Troy_. O plague and madness! - -_Vlyſ_. You are moved, Prince; let us depart, I pray, -Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself -To wrathful terms. This place is dangerous; -The time right deadly; I beseech you, go. - -_Troy_. Behold, I pray you. - -_Vlyſ_. Nay, good my lord, go off; -You flow to great distraction; come, my lord. - -_Troy_. I prithee stay. - -_Vlyſ_. You have not patience; come. - -_Troy_. I pray you, stay; by hell and all hell’s torments, -I will not speak a word. - -_Diom_. And so, good night. - -_Cre_. Nay, but you part in anger. - -_Troy_. Doth that grieve thee? O withered truth! - -_Vlyſ_. How now, my lord? - -_Troy_. By Jove, I will be patient. - -_Cre_. Guardian! Why, Greek! - -_Diom_. Fo, fo! adieu! you palter. - -_Cre_. In faith, I do not. Come hither once again. - -_Vlyſ_. You shake, my lord, at something; will you go? -You will break out. - -_Troy_. She strokes his cheek. - -_Vlyſ_. Come, come. - -_Troy_. Nay, stay; by Jove, I will not speak a word: -There is between my will and all offences -A guard of patience. Stay a little while. - -_Ther_. How the devil luxury, with his fat rump and potato finger, -tickles these together! Fry, lechery, fry! - -_Diom_. But will you, then? - -_Cre_. In faith, I will, lo; never trust me else. - -_Diom_. Give me some token for the surety of it. - -_Cre_. I’ll fetch you one. -Exit - -_Vlyſ_. You have sworn patience. - -_Troy_. Fear me not, my lord; -I will not be myself, nor have cognition -Of what I feel. I am all patience. - -Re-enter _Creſſid_ - -_Ther_. Now the pledge; now, now, now! - -_Cre_. Here, Diomed, keep this sleeve. - -_Troy_. O beauty! where is thy faith? - -_Vlyſ_. My lord! - -_Troy_. I will be patient; outwardly I will. - -_Cre_. You look upon that sleeve; behold it well. -He lov’d me-O false wench!-Give’t me again. - -_Diom_. Whose was’t? - -_Cre_. It is no matter, now I ha’t again. -I will not meet with you to-morrow night. -I prithee, Diomed, visit me no more. - -_Ther_. Now she sharpens. Well said, whetstone. - -_Diom_. I shall have it. - -_Cre_. What, this? - -_Diom_. Ay, that. - -_Cre_. O all you gods! O pretty, pretty pledge! -Thy master now lies thinking on his bed -Of thee and me, and sighs, and takes my glove, -And gives memorial dainty kisses to it, -As I kiss thee. Nay, do not snatch it from me; -He that takes that doth take my heart withal. - -_Diom_. I had your heart before; this follows it. - -_Troy_. I did swear patience. - -_Cre_. You shall not have it, Diomed; faith, you shall not; -I’ll give you something else. - -_Diom_. I will have this. Whose was it? - -_Cre_. It is no matter. - -_Diom_. Come, tell me whose it was. - -_Cre_. ’Twas one’s that lov’d me better than you will. -But, now you have it, take it. - -_Diom_. Whose was it? - -_Cre_. By all Diana’s waiting women yond, -And by herself, I will not tell you whose. - -_Diom_. To-morrow will I wear it on my helm, -And grieve his spirit that dares not challenge it. - -_Troy_. Wert thou the devil and wor’st it on thy horn, -It should be challeng’d. - -_Cre_. Well, well, ’tis done, ’tis past; and yet it is not; -I will not keep my word. - -_Diom_. Why, then farewell; -Thou never shalt mock Diomed again. - -_Cre_. You shall not go. One cannot speak a word -But it straight starts you. - -_Diom_. I do not like this fooling. - -_Ther_. Nor I, by Pluto; but that that likes not you -Pleases me best. - -_Diom_. What, shall I come? The hour- - -_Cre_. Ay, come-O Jove! Do come. I shall be plagu’d. - -_Diom_. Farewell till then. - -_Cre_. Good night. I prithee come. Exit Diomedes -Troylus, 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 - -_Ther_. A proof of strength she could not publish more, -Unless she said ‘My mind is now turn’d whore.’ - -_Vlyſ_. All’s done, my lord. - -_Troy_. It is. - -_Vlyſ_. Why stay we, then? - -_Troy_. To make a recordation to my soul -Of every syllable that here was spoke. -But if I tell how these two did coact, -Shall I not lie in publishing a truth? -Sith yet there is a credence in my heart, -An esperance so obstinately strong, -That doth invert th’ attest of eyes and ears; -As if those organs had deceptious functions -Created only to calumniate. -Was Creſſid here? - -_Vlyſ_. I cannot conjure, Troian. - -_Troy_. She was not, sure. - -_Vlyſ_. Most sure she was. - -_Troy_. Why, my negation hath no taste of madness. - -_Vlyſ_. Nor mine, my lord. Creſſid was here but now. - -_Troy_. Let it not be believ’d for womanhood. -Think, we had mothers; do not give advantage -To stubborn critics, apt, without a theme, -For depravation, to square the general sex -By Creſſid’s rule. Rather think this not Creſſid. - -_Vlyſ_. What hath she done, Prince, that can soil our mothers? - -_Troy_. Nothing at all, unless that this were she. - -_Ther_. Will ’a swagger himself out on’s own eyes? - -_Troy_. This she? No; this is Diomed’s Creſſida. -If beauty have a soul, this is not she; -If souls guide vows, if vows be sanctimonies, -If sanctimony be the god’s delight, -If there be rule in unity itself, -This was not she. O madness of discourse, -That cause sets up with and against itself! -Bifold authority! where reason can revolt -Without perdition, and loss assume all reason -Without revolt: this is, and is not, Creſſid. -Within my soul there doth conduce a fight -Of this strange nature, that a thing inseparate -Divides more wider than the sky and earth; -And yet the spacious breadth of this division -Admits no orifex for a point as subtle -As Ariachne’s broken woof to enter. -Instance, O instance! strong as Pluto’s gates: -Creſſid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven. -Instance, O instance! strong as heaven itself: -The bonds of heaven are slipp’d, dissolv’d, and loos’d; -And with another knot, five-finger-tied, -The fractions of her faith, orts of her love, -The fragments, scraps, the bits, and greasy relics -Of her o’er-eaten faith, are bound to Diomed. - -_Vlyſ_. May worthy Troylus be half-attach’d -With that which here his passion doth express? - -_Troy_. Ay, Greek; and that shall be divulged well -In characters as red as Mars his heart -Inflam’d with Venus. Never did young man fancy -With so eternal and so fix’d a soul. -Hark, Greek: as much as I do Creſſid love, -So much by weight hate I her Diomed. -That sleeve is mine that he’ll bear on his helm; -Were it a casque compos’d by Vulcan’s skill -My sword should bite it. Not the dreadful spout -Which shipmen do the hurricano call, -Constring’d in mass by the almighty sun, -Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptune’s ear -In his descent than shall my prompted sword -Falling on Diomed. - -_Ther_. He’ll tickle it for his concupy. - -_Troy_. O Creſſid! O false Creſſid! false, false, false! -Let all untruths stand by thy stained name, -And they’ll seem glorious. - -_Vlyſ_. O, contain yourself; -Your passion draws ears hither. - -Enter Æneas - -_Æne_. I have been seeking you this hour, my lord. -Hector, by this, is arming him in Troy; -Aiax, your guard, stays to conduct you home. - -_Troy_. Have with you, Prince. My courteous lord, adieu. -Fairwell, revolted fair!-and, Diomed, -Stand fast and wear a castle on thy head. - -_Vlyſ_. I’ll bring you to the gates. - -_Troy_. Accept distracted thanks. - -Exeunt Troylus, Æneas. and Vlyſſes - -_Ther_. Would I could meet that rogue Diomed! I would croak like a -raven; I would bode, I would bode. Patroclus will give me anything for -the intelligence of this whore; the parrot will not do more for an -almond than he for a commodious drab. Lechery, lechery! Still wars and -lechery! Nothing else holds fashion. A burning devil take them! -Exit - -Enter Hector and Andromache - -_And_. When was my lord so much ungently temper’d -To stop his ears against admonishment? -Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to-day. - -_Hect_. You train me to offend you; get you in. -By all the everlasting gods, I’ll go. - -_And_. My dreams will, sure, prove ominous to the day. - -_Hect_. No more, I say. - -Enter Caſſandra - -_Caſ_. Where is my brother Hector? - -_And_. Here, sister, arm’d, and bloody in intent. -Consort with me in loud and dear petition, -Pursue we him on knees; for I have dreamt -Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night -Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter. - -_Caſ_. O, ’tis true! - -_Hect_. Ho! bid my trumpet sound. - -_Caſ_. No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet brother! - -_Hect_. Be gone, I say. The gods have heard me swear. - -_Caſ_. The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows; -They are polluted off’rings, more abhorr’d -Than spotted livers in the sacrifice. - -_And_. O, be persuaded! Do not count it holy -To hurt by being just. It is as lawful, -For we would give much, to use violent thefts -And rob in the behalf of charity. - -_Caſ_. It is the purpose that makes strong the vow; -But vows to every purpose must not hold. -Unarm, sweet Hector. - -_Hect_. Hold you still, I say. -Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate. -Life every man holds dear; but the dear man -Holds honour far more precious dear than life. - -Enter Troylus - -How now, young man! Mean’st thou to fight to-day? - -_And_. Caſſandra, call my father to persuade. -Exit Caſſandra - -_Hect_. No, faith, young Troylus; doff thy harness, youth; -I am to-day i’ th’ vein of chivalry. -Let grow thy sinews till their knots be strong, -And tempt not yet the brushes of the war. -Unarm thee, go; and doubt thou not, brave boy, -I’ll stand to-day for thee and me and Troy. - -_Troy_. Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you -Which better fits a lion than a man. - -_Hect_. What vice is that, good Troylus? -Chide me for it. - -_Troy_. When many times the captive Grecian falls, -Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword, -You bid them rise and live. - -_Hect_. O, ’tis fair play! - -_Troy_. Fool’s play, by heaven, Hector. - -_Hect_. How now! how now! - -_Troy_. For th’ love of all the gods, -Let’s leave the hermit Pity with our mother; -And when we have our armours buckled on, -The venom’d vengeance ride upon our swords, -Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth! - -_Hect_. Fie, savage, fie! - -_Troy_. Hector, then ’tis wars. - -_Hect_. Troylus, I would not have you fight to-day. - -_Troy_. Who should withhold me? -Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars -Beck’ning with fiery truncheon my retire; -Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees, -Their eyes o’ergalled with recourse of tears; -Nor you, my brother, with your true sword drawn, -Oppos’d to hinder me, should stop my way, -But by my ruin. - -Re-enter Caſſandra, with Priam - -_Caſ_. Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him fast; -He is thy crutch; now if thou lose thy stay, -Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee, -Fall all together. - -_Pri_. Come, Hector, come, go back. -Thy wife hath dreamt; thy mother hath had visions; -Caſſandra doth foresee; and I myself -Am like a prophet suddenly enrapt -To tell thee that this day is ominous. -Therefore, come back. - -_Hect_. Æneas is a-field; -And I do stand engag’d to many Greeks, -Even in the faith of valour, to appear -This morning to them. - -_Pri_. Ay, but thou shalt not go. - -_Hect_. I must not break my faith. -You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sir, -Let me not shame respect; but give me leave -To take that course by your consent and voice -Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam. - -_Caſ_. O Priam, yield not to him! - -_And_. Do not, dear father. - -_Hect_. Andromache, I am offended with you. -Upon the love you bear me, get you in. -Exit Andromache - -_Troy_. This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl -Makes all these bodements. - -_Caſ_. O, farewell, dear Hector! -Look how thou diest. Look how thy eye turns pale. -Look how thy wounds do bleed at many vents. -Hark how Troy roars; how Hecuba cries out; -How poor Andromache shrills her dolours forth; -Behold distraction, frenzy, and amazement, -Like witless antics, one another meet, -And all cry, Hector! Hector’s dead! O Hector! - -_Troy_. Away, away! - -_Caſ_. Farewell!-yet, soft! Hector, I take my leave. -Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive. -Exit - -_Hect_. You are amaz’d, my liege, at her exclaim. -Go in, and cheer the town; we’ll forth, and fight, -Do deeds worth praise and tell you them at night. - -_Pri_. Farewell. The gods with safety stand about thee! -Exeunt severally Priam and Hector. -Alarums - -_Troy_. They are at it, hark! Proud Diomed, believe, -I come to lose my arm or win my sleeve. - -Enter Pandarus - -_Pan_. Do you hear, my lord? Do you hear? - -_Troy_. What now? - -_Pan_. Here’s a letter come from yond poor girl. - -_Troy_. Let me read. - -_Pan_. A whoreson tisick, a whoreson rascally tisick so troubles me, -and the foolish fortune of this girl, and what one thing, what another, -that I shall leave you one o’ th’s days; and I have a rheum in mine -eyes too, and such an ache in my bones that unless a man were curs’d I -cannot tell what to think on’t. What says she there? - -_Troy_. Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart; -Th’ effect doth operate another way. -[Tearing the letter] -Go, wind, to wind, there turn and change together. -My love with words and errors still she feeds, -But edifies another with her deeds. Exeunt -severally - -Enter Thersites. Excursions - -_Ther_. Now they are clapper-clawing one another; I’ll go look on. That -dissembling abominable varlet, Diomed, has got that same scurvy doting -foolish young knave’s sleeve of Troy there in his helm. I would fain -see them meet, that that same young Troian ass that loves the whore -there might send that Greekish whoremasterly villain with the sleeve -back to the dissembling luxurious drab of a sleeve-less errand. A th’ -t’other side, the policy of those crafty swearing rascals-that stale -old mouse-eaten dry cheese, Nestor, and that same dog-fox, Vlyſſes -is -not prov’d worth a blackberry. They set me up, in policy, that mongrel -cur, Aiax, against that dog of as bad a kind, Achilles; and now is the -cur, Aiax prouder than the cur Achilles, and will not arm to-day; -whereupon the Grecians begin to proclaim barbarism, and policy grows -into an ill opinion. - -Enter Diomedes, Troylus following - -Soft! here comes sleeve, and t’other. - -_Troy_. Fly not; for shouldst thou take the river Styx -I would swim after. - -_Diom_. Thou dost miscall retire. -I do not fly; but advantageous care -Withdrew me from the odds of multitude. -Have at thee. - -_Ther_. Hold thy whore, Grecian; now for thy whore, -Troian-now the sleeve, now the sleeve! -Exeunt Troylus and Diomedes fighting - -Enter Hector - -_Hect_. What art thou, Greek? Art thou for Hector’s match? -Art thou of blood and honour? - -_Ther_. No, no-I am a rascal; a scurvy railing knave; a very filthy -rogue. - -_Hect_. I do believe thee. Live. -Exit - -_Ther_. God-a-mercy, that thou wilt believe me; but a plague break thy -neck for frighting me! What’s become of the wenching rogues? I think -they have swallowed one another. I would laugh at that miracle. Yet, in -a sort, lechery eats itself. I’ll seek them. -Exit - -Enter Diomedes and a Servant - -_Diom_. Go, go, my servant, take thou Troylus’ horse; -Present the fair steed to my lady Creſſid. -Fellow, commend my service to her beauty; -Tell her I have chastis’d the amorous Troian, -And am her knight by proof. - -_Ser_. I go, my lord. -Exit - -Enter Agamemnon - -_Agam_. Renew, renew! The fierce Polydamus -Hath beat down enon; bastard Margarelon -Hath Doreus prisoner, -And stands colossus-wise, waving his beam, -Upon the pashed corses of the kings -Epistrophus and Cedius. Polixenes is slain; -Amphimacus and Thoas deadly hurt; -Patroclus ta’en, or slain; and Palamedes -Sore hurt and bruis’d. The dreadful Sagittary -Appals our numbers. Haste we, Diomed, -To reinforcement, or we perish all. - -Enter Nestor - -_Nestor_. Go, bear Patroclus’ body to Achilles, -And bid the snail-pac’d Aiax arm for shame. -There is a thousand Hectors in the field; -Now here he fights on Galathe his horse, -And there lacks work; anon he’s there afoot, -And there they fly or die, like scaled sculls -Before the belching whale; then is he yonder, -And there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge, -Fall down before him like the mower’s swath. -Here, there, and everywhere, he leaves and takes; -Dexterity so obeying appetite -That what he will he does, and does so much -That proof is call’d impossibility. - -Enter Vlyſſes - -_Vlyſ_. O, courage, courage, courage, Princes! Great -Achilles Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance. -Patroclus’ wounds have rous’d his drowsy blood, -Together with his mangled Myrmidons, -That noseless, handless, hack’d and chipp’d, come to -him, Crying on Hector. Aiax hath lost a friend -And foams at mouth, and he is arm’d and at it, -Roaring for Troylus; who hath done to-day -Mad and fantastic execution, -Engaging and redeeming of himself -With such a careless force and forceless care -As if that luck, in very spite of cunning, -Bade him win all. - -Enter Aiax - -_Aiax_. Troylus! thou coward Troylus! -Exit - -_Diom_. Ay, there, there. - -_Nestor_. So, so, we draw together. -Exit -Enter Achilles - -_Achil_. Where is this Hector? -Come, come, thou boy-queller, show thy face; -Know what it is to meet Achilles angry. -Hector! where’s Hector? I will none but Hector. -Exeunt - -Enter Aiax - -_Aiax_. Troylus, thou coward Troylus, show thy head. - -Enter Diomedes - -_Diom_. Troylus, I say! Where’s Troylus? - -_Aiax_. What wouldst thou? - -_Diom_. I would correct him. - -_Aiax_. Were I the general, thou shouldst have my office -Ere that correction. Troylus, I say! What, Troylus! - -Enter Troylus - -_Troy_. O traitor Diomed! Turn thy false face, thou traitor, -And pay thy life thou owest me for my horse. - -_Diom_. Ha! art thou there? - -_Aiax_. I’ll fight with him alone. Stand, Diomed. - -_Diom_. He is my prize. I will not look upon. - -_Troy_. Come, both, you cogging Greeks; have at you -Exeunt fighting - -Enter Hector - -_Hect_. Yea, Troylus? O, well fought, my youngest brother! - -Enter Achilles - -_Achil_. Now do I see thee, ha! Have at thee, Hector! - -_Hect_. Pause, if thou wilt. - -_Achil_. I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Troian. -Be happy that my arms are out of use; -My rest and negligence befriends thee now, -But thou anon shalt hear of me again; -Till when, go seek thy fortune. -Exit - -_Hect_. Fare thee well. -I would have been much more a fresher man, -Had I expected thee. - -Re-enter Troylus - -How now, my brother! - -_Troy_. Aiax hath ta’en Æneas. Shall it be? -No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven, -He shall not carry him; I’ll be ta’en too, -Or bring him off. Fate, hear me what I say: -I reck not though thou end my life to-day. -Exit - -Enter one in armour - -_Hect_. Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou art a goodly mark. -No? wilt thou not? I like thy armour well; -I’ll frush it and unlock the rivets all -But I’ll be master of it. Wilt thou not, beast, abide? -Why then, fly on; I’ll hunt thee for thy hide. -Exeunt - -Enter Achilles, with Myrmidons - -_Achil_. Come here about me, you my Myrmidons; -Mark what I say. Attend me where I wheel; -Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath; -And when I have the bloody Hector found, -Empale him with your weapons round about; -In fellest manner execute your arms. -Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye. -It is decreed Hector the great must die. -Exeunt - -Enter Menelaus and Paris, fighting; then Thersites - -_Ther_. The cuckold and the cuckold-maker are at it. Now, bull! now, -dog! ’Loo, Paris, ’loo! now my double-horn’d Spartan! ’loo, Paris, -’loo! The bull has the game. Ware horns, ho! -Exeunt Paris and Menelaus - -Enter Bastard - -_Baſt_. Turn, slave, and fight. - -_Ther_. What art thou? - -_Baſt_. A bastard son of Priam’s. - -_Ther_. I am a bastard too; I love bastards. I am a bastard begot, -bastard instructed, bastard in mind, bastard in valour, in everything -illegitimate. One bear will not bite another, and wherefore should one -bastard? Take heed, the quarrel’s most ominous to us: if the son of a -whore fight for a whore, he tempts judgement. Farewell, bastard. -Exit - -_Baſt_. The devil take thee, coward! -Exit - -Enter Hector - -_Hect_. Most putrified core so fair without, -Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life. -Now is my day’s work done; I’ll take good breath: -Rest, sword; thou hast thy fill of blood and death! -[Disarms] - -Enter Achilles and his Myrmidons - -_Achil_. Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set; -How ugly night comes breathing at his heels; -Even with the vail and dark’ning of the sun, -To close the day up, Hector’s life is done. - -_Hect_. I am unarm’d; forego this vantage, Greek. - -_Achil_. Strike, fellows, strike; this is the man I seek. -[Hector falls] -So, Ilion, fall thou next! Come, Troy, sink down; -Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone. -On, Myrmidons, and cry you an amain -‘Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.’ -[A retreat sounded] -Hark! a retire upon our Grecian part. - -_Gree_. The Troian trumpets sound the like, my lord. - -_Achil_. The dragon wing of night o’erspreads the earth -And, stickler-like, the armies separates. -My half-supp’d sword, that frankly would have fed, -Pleas’d with this dainty bait, thus goes to bed. -[Sheathes his sword] -Come, tie his body to my horse’s tail; -Along the field I will the Troian trail. -Exeunt - -Sound retreat. Shout. Enter Agamemnon, Aiax, Menelaus, Nestor, -Diomedes, and the rest, marching - -_Agam_. Hark! hark! what shout is this? - -_Nestor_. Peace, drums! - -_Sold_. [Within] Achilles! Achilles! Hector’s slain. -Achilles! - -_Diom_. The bruit is Hector’s slain, and by Achilles. - -_Aiax_. If it be so, yet bragless let it be; -Great Hector was as good a man as he. - -_Agam_. March patiently along. Let one be sent -To pray Achilles see us at our tent. -If in his death the gods have us befriended; -Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are ended. -Exeunt - -Enter Æneas, Paris, Antenor, and Diephœbus - -_Æne_. Stand, ho! yet are we masters of the field. -Never go home; here starve we out the night. - -Enter Troylus - -_Troy_. Hector is slain. -ALL. Hector! The gods forbid! - -_Troy_. He’s dead, and at the murderer’s horse’s tail, -In beastly sort, dragg’d through the shameful field. -Frown on, you heavens, effect your rage with speed. -Sit, gods, upon your thrones, and smile at Troy. -I say at once let your brief plagues be mercy, -And linger not our sure destructions on. - -_Æne_. My lord, you do discomfort all the host. - -_Troy_. You understand me not that tell me so. -I do not speak of flight, of fear of death, -But dare all imminence that gods and men -Address their dangers in. Hector is gone. -Who shall tell Priam so, or Hecuba? -Let him that will a screech-owl aye be call’d -Go in to Troy, and say there ‘Hector’s dead.’ -There is a word will Priam turn to stone; -Make wells and Niobes of the maids and wives, -Cold statues of the youth; and, in a word, -Scare Troy out of itself. But, march away; -Hector is dead; there is no more to say. -Stay yet. You vile abominable tents, -Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian plains, -Let Titan rise as early as he dare, -I’ll through and through you. And, thou great-siz’d coward, -No space of earth shall sunder our two hates; -I’ll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still, -That mouldeth goblins swift as frenzy’s thoughts. -Strike a free march to Troy. With comfort go; -Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe. - -Enter Pandarus - -_Pan_. But hear you, hear you! - -_Troy_. Hence, broker-lackey. Ignominy and shame -Pursue thy life and live aye with thy name! -Exeunt all but Pandarus - -_Pan_. A goodly medicine for my aching bones! world! world! thus is the -poor agent despis’d! traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you set a -work, and how ill requited! Why should our endeavour be so lov’d, and -the performance so loathed? What verse for it? What instance for it? -Let me see. -Full merrily the humble-bee doth sing -Till he hath lost his honey and his sting; -And being once subdu’d in armed trail, -Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail. -Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted -cloths. As many as be here of pander’s hall, -Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar’s fall; -Or, if you cannot weep, yet give some groans, -Though not for me, yet for your aching bones. -Brethren and sisters of the hold-door trade, -Some two months hence my will shall here be made. -It should be now, but that my fear is this, -Some galled goose of Winchester would hiss. -Till then I’ll sweat and seek about for eases, -And at that time bequeath you my diseases. -Exeunt - -FINIS. - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TROILUS AND CRESSIDA *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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