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FOR __ COMPLETE SHAKESPEARE **** +["Small Print" V.12.08.93] + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + + + +1602 + +THE HISTORY OF TROILUS AND CRESSIDA + +by William Shakespeare + + +DRAMATIS PERSONAE + + PRIAM, King of Troy + + His sons: + HECTOR + TROILUS + PARIS + DEIPHOBUS + HELENUS + + MARGARELON, a bastard son of Priam + + Trojan commanders: + AENEAS + ANTENOR + + CALCHAS, a Trojan priest, taking part with the Greeks + PANDARUS, uncle to Cressida + AGAMEMNON, the Greek general + MENELAUS, his brother + + Greek commanders: + ACHILLES + AJAX + ULYSSES + NESTOR + DIOMEDES + PATROCLUS + + THERSITES, a deformed and scurrilous Greek + ALEXANDER, servant to Cressida + SERVANT to Troilus + SERVANT to Paris + SERVANT to Diomedes + + HELEN, wife to Menelaus + ANDROMACHE, wife to Hector + CASSANDRA, daughter to Priam, a prophetess + CRESSIDA, daughter to Calchas + + Trojan and Greek Soldiers, and Attendants + + SCENE: + Troy and the Greek camp before it + +PROLOGUE + TROILUS AND CRESSIDA + PROLOGUE + + In Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of Greece + The princes orgillous, their high blood chaf'd, + Have to the port of Athens sent their ships + Fraught with the ministers and instruments + Of cruel war. Sixty and nine that wore + Their crownets regal from th' Athenian bay + Put forth toward Phrygia; and their vow is made + To ransack Troy, within whose strong immures + The ravish'd Helen, Menelaus' queen, + With wanton Paris sleeps-and that's the quarrel. + To Tenedos they come, + And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge + Their war-like fraughtage. Now on Dardan plains + The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch + Their brave pavilions: Priam's six-gated city, + Dardan, and Tymbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien, + And Antenorides, with massy staples + And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts, + Sperr up the sons of Troy. + Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits + On one and other side, Troyan and Greek, + Sets all on hazard-and hither am I come + A Prologue arm'd, but not in confidence + Of author's pen or actor's voice, but suited + In like conditions as our argument, + To tell you, fair beholders, that our play + Leaps o'er the vaunt and firstlings of those broils, + Beginning in the middle; starting thence away, + To what may be digested in a play. + Like or find fault; do as your pleasures are; + Now good or bad, 'tis but the chance of war. + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + +ACT I. SCENE 1. +Troy. Before PRIAM'S palace + +Enter TROILUS armed, and PANDARUS + + TROILUS. Call here my varlet; I'll unarm again. + Why should I war without the walls of Troy + That find such cruel battle here within? + Each Troyan that is master of his heart, + Let him to field; Troilus, alas, hath none! + PANDARUS. Will this gear ne'er be mended? + TROILUS. The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their strength, + Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant; + But I am weaker than a woman's tear, + Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance, + Less valiant than the virgin in the night, + And skilless as unpractis'd infancy. + PANDARUS. Well, I have told you enough of this; for my part, + I'll not meddle nor make no farther. He that will have a cake + out of the wheat must needs tarry the grinding. + TROILUS. Have I not tarried? + PANDARUS. Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the bolting. + TROILUS. Have I not tarried? + PANDARUS. Ay, the bolting; but you must tarry the leavening. + TROILUS. Still have I tarried. + PANDARUS. Ay, to the leavening; but here's yet in the word + 'hereafter' the kneading, the making of the cake, the heating + of the oven, and the baking; nay, you must stay the cooling too, + or you may chance to burn your lips. + TROILUS. Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be, + Doth lesser blench at suff'rance than I do. + At Priam's royal table do I sit; + And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts- + So, traitor, then she comes when she is thence. + PANDARUS. Well, she look'd yesternight fairer than ever I saw her + look, or any woman else. + TROILUS. I was about to tell thee: when my heart, + As wedged with a sigh, would rive in twain, + Lest Hector or my father should perceive me, + I have, as when the sun doth light a storm, + Buried this sigh in wrinkle of a smile. + But sorrow that is couch'd in seeming gladness + Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness. + PANDARUS. An her hair were not somewhat darker than Helen's-well, + go to- there were no more comparison between the women. But, for + my part, she is my kinswoman; I would not, as they term it, + praise her, but I would somebody had heard her talk yesterday, as + I did. I will not dispraise your sister Cassandra's wit; but- + TROILUS. O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus- + When I do tell thee there my hopes lie drown'd, + Reply not in how many fathoms deep + They lie indrench'd. I tell thee I am mad + In Cressid's love. Thou answer'st 'She is fair'- + Pourest in the open ulcer of my heart- + Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice, + Handlest in thy discourse. O, that her hand, + In whose comparison all whites are ink + Writing their own reproach; to whose soft seizure + The cygnet's down is harsh, and spirit of sense + Hard as the palm of ploughman! This thou tell'st me, + As true thou tell'st me, when I say I love her; + But, saying thus, instead of oil and balm, + Thou lay'st in every gash that love hath given me + The knife that made it. + PANDARUS. I speak no more than truth. + TROILUS. Thou dost not speak so much. + PANDARUS. Faith, I'll not meddle in it. Let her be as she is: if + she be fair, 'tis the better for her; an she be not, she has the + mends in her own hands. + TROILUS. Good Pandarus! How now, Pandarus! + PANDARUS. I have had my labour for my travail, ill thought on of + her and ill thought on of you; gone between and between, but + small thanks for my labour. + TROILUS. What, art thou angry, Pandarus? What, with me? + PANDARUS. Because she's kin to me, therefore she's not so fair as + Helen. An she were not kin to me, she would be as fair a Friday + as Helen is on Sunday. But what care I? I care not an she were a + blackamoor; 'tis all one to me. + TROILUS. Say I she is not fair? + PANDARUS. I do not care whether you do or no. She's a fool to stay + behind her father. Let her to the Greeks; and so I'll tell her + the next time I see her. For my part, I'll meddle nor make no + more i' th' matter. + TROILUS. Pandarus! + PANDARUS. Not I. + TROILUS. Sweet Pandarus! + PANDARUS. Pray you, speak no more to me: I will leave all + as I found it, and there an end. + Exit. Sound alarum + TROILUS. Peace, you ungracious clamours! Peace, rude sounds! + Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair, + When with your blood you daily paint her thus. + I cannot fight upon this argument; + It is too starv'd a subject for my sword. + But Pandarus-O gods, how do you plague me! + I cannot come to Cressid but by Pandar; + And he's as tetchy to be woo'd to woo + As she is stubborn-chaste against all suit. + Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne's love, + What Cressid is, what Pandar, and what we? + Her bed is India; there she lies, a pearl; + Between our Ilium and where she resides + Let it be call'd the wild and wand'ring flood; + Ourself the merchant, and this sailing Pandar + Our doubtful hope, our convoy, and our bark. + + Alarum. Enter AENEAS + + AENEAS. How now, Prince Troilus! Wherefore not afield? + TROILUS. Because not there. This woman's answer sorts, + For womanish it is to be from thence. + What news, Aeneas, from the field to-day? + AENEAS. That Paris is returned home, and hurt. + TROILUS. By whom, Aeneas? + AENEAS. Troilus, by Menelaus. + TROILUS. Let Paris bleed: 'tis but a scar to scorn; + Paris is gor'd with Menelaus' horn. +[Alarum] + AENEAS. Hark what good sport is out of town to-day! + TROILUS. Better at home, if 'would I might' were 'may.' + But to the sport abroad. Are you bound thither? + AENEAS. In all swift haste. + TROILUS. Come, go we then together. +Exeunt + + + + +ACT I. SCENE 2. +Troy. A street + +Enter CRESSIDA and her man ALEXANDER + + CRESSIDA. Who were those went by? + ALEXANDER. Queen Hecuba and Helen. + CRESSIDA. And whither go they? + ALEXANDER. Up to the eastern tower, + Whose height commands as subject all the vale, + To see the battle. Hector, whose patience + Is as a virtue fix'd, to-day was mov'd. + He chid Andromache, and struck his armourer; + And, like as there were husbandry in war, + Before the sun rose he was harness'd light, + And to the field goes he; where every flower + Did as a prophet weep what it foresaw + In Hector's wrath. + CRESSIDA. What was his cause of anger? + ALEXANDER. The noise goes, this: there is among the Greeks + A lord of Troyan blood, nephew to Hector; + They call him Ajax. + CRESSIDA. Good; and what of him? + ALEXANDER. They say he is a very man per se, + And stands alone. + CRESSIDA. So do all men, unless they are drunk, sick, or have no + legs. + ALEXANDER. This man, lady, hath robb'd many beasts of their + particular additions: he is as valiant as a lion, churlish as the + bear, slow as the elephant-a man into whom nature hath so crowded + humours that his valour is crush'd into folly, his folly sauced + with discretion. There is no man hath a virtue that he hath not a + glimpse of, nor any man an attaint but he carries some stain of + it; he is melancholy without cause and merry against the hair; he + hath the joints of every thing; but everything so out of joint + that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no use, or purblind + Argus, all eyes and no sight. + CRESSIDA. But how should this man, that makes me smile, make Hector + angry? + ALEXANDER. They say he yesterday cop'd Hector in the battle and + struck him down, the disdain and shame whereof hath ever since + kept Hector fasting and waking. + + Enter PANDARUS + + CRESSIDA. Who comes here? + ALEXANDER. Madam, your uncle Pandarus. + CRESSIDA. Hector's a gallant man. + ALEXANDER. As may be in the world, lady. + PANDARUS. What's that? What's that? + CRESSIDA. Good morrow, uncle Pandarus. + PANDARUS. Good morrow, cousin Cressid. What do you talk of?- Good + morrow, Alexander.-How do you, cousin? When were you at Ilium? + CRESSIDA. This morning, uncle. + PANDARUS. What were you talking of when I came? Was Hector arm'd + and gone ere you came to Ilium? Helen was not up, was she? + CRESSIDA. Hector was gone; but Helen was not up. + PANDARUS. E'en so. Hector was stirring early. + CRESSIDA. That were we talking of, and of his anger. + PANDARUS. Was he angry? + CRESSIDA. So he says here. + PANDARUS. True, he was so; I know the cause too; he'll lay about + him today, I can tell them that. And there's Troilus will not + come far behind him; let them take heed of Troilus, I can tell + them that too. + CRESSIDA. What, is he angry too? + PANDARUS. Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better man of the two. + CRESSIDA. O Jupiter! there's no comparison. + PANDARUS. What, not between Troilus and Hector? Do you know a man + if you see him? + CRESSIDA. Ay, if I ever saw him before and knew him. + PANDARUS. Well, I say Troilus is Troilus. + CRESSIDA. Then you say as I say, for I am sure he is not Hector. + PANDARUS. No, nor Hector is not Troilus in some degrees. + CRESSIDA. 'Tis just to each of them: he is himself. + PANDARUS. Himself! Alas, poor Troilus! I would he were! + CRESSIDA. So he is. + PANDARUS. Condition I had gone barefoot to India. + CRESSIDA. He is not Hector. + PANDARUS. Himself! no, he's not himself. Would 'a were himself! + Well, the gods are above; time must friend or end. Well, Troilus, + well! I would my heart were in her body! No, Hector is not a + better man than Troilus. + CRESSIDA. Excuse me. + PANDARUS. He is elder. + CRESSIDA. Pardon me, pardon me. + PANDARUS. Th' other's not come to't; you shall tell me another tale + when th' other's come to't. Hector shall not have his wit this + year. + CRESSIDA. He shall not need it if he have his own. + PANDARUS. Nor his qualities. + CRESSIDA. No matter. + PANDARUS. Nor his beauty. + CRESSIDA. 'Twould not become him: his own's better. + PANDARUS. YOU have no judgment, niece. Helen herself swore th' + other day that Troilus, for a brown favour, for so 'tis, I must + confess- not brown neither- + CRESSIDA. No, but brown. + PANDARUS. Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown. + CRESSIDA. To say the truth, true and not true. + PANDARUS. She prais'd his complexion above Paris. + CRESSIDA. Why, Paris hath colour enough. + PANDARUS. So he has. + CRESSIDA. Then Troilus should have too much. If she prais'd him + above, his complexion is higher than his; he having colour + enough, and the other higher, is too flaming praise for a good + complexion. I had as lief Helen's golden tongue had commended + Troilus for a copper nose. + PANDARUS. I swear to you I think Helen loves him better than Paris. + CRESSIDA. Then she's a merry Greek indeed. + PANDARUS. Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him th' other day + into the compass'd window-and you know he has not past three or + four hairs on his chin- + CRESSIDA. Indeed a tapster's arithmetic may soon bring his + particulars therein to a total. + PANDARUS. Why, he is very young, and yet will he within three pound + lift as much as his brother Hector. + CRESSIDA. Is he so young a man and so old a lifter? + PANDARUS. But to prove to you that Helen loves him: she came and + puts me her white hand to his cloven chin- + CRESSIDA. Juno have mercy! How came it cloven? + PANDARUS. Why, you know, 'tis dimpled. I think his smiling becomes + him better than any man in all Phrygia. + CRESSIDA. O, he smiles valiantly! + PANDARUS. Does he not? + CRESSIDA. O yes, an 'twere a cloud in autumn! + PANDARUS. Why, go to, then! But to prove to you that Helen loves + Troilus- + CRESSIDA. Troilus will stand to the proof, if you'll prove it so. + PANDARUS. Troilus! Why, he esteems her no more than I esteem an + addle egg. + CRESSIDA. If you love an addle egg as well as you love an idle + head, you would eat chickens i' th' shell. + PANDARUS. I cannot choose but laugh to think how she tickled his + chin. Indeed, she has a marvell's white hand, I must needs + confess. + CRESSIDA. Without the rack. + PANDARUS. And she takes upon her to spy a white hair on his chin. + CRESSIDA. Alas, poor chin! Many a wart is richer. + PANDARUS. But there was such laughing! Queen Hecuba laugh'd that + her eyes ran o'er. + CRESSIDA. With millstones. + PANDARUS. And Cassandra laugh'd. + CRESSIDA. But there was a more temperate fire under the pot of her + eyes. Did her eyes run o'er too? + PANDARUS. And Hector laugh'd. + CRESSIDA. At what was all this laughing? + PANDARUS. Marry, at the white hair that Helen spied on Troilus' + chin. + CRESSIDA. An't had been a green hair I should have laugh'd too. + PANDARUS. They laugh'd not so much at the hair as at his pretty + answer. + CRESSIDA. What was his answer? + PANDARUS. Quoth she 'Here's but two and fifty hairs on your chin, + and one of them is white.' + CRESSIDA. This is her question. + PANDARUS. That's true; make no question of that. 'Two and fifty + hairs,' quoth he 'and one white. That white hair is my father, + and all the rest are his sons.' 'Jupiter!' quoth she 'which of + these hairs is Paris my husband?' 'The forked one,' quoth he, + 'pluck't out and give it him.' But there was such laughing! and + Helen so blush'd, and Paris so chaf'd; and all the rest so + laugh'd that it pass'd. + CRESSIDA. So let it now; for it has been a great while going by. + PANDARUS. Well, cousin, I told you a thing yesterday; think on't. + CRESSIDA. So I do. + PANDARUS. I'll be sworn 'tis true; he will weep you, and 'twere a + man born in April. + CRESSIDA. And I'll spring up in his tears, an 'twere a nettle + against May. [Sound a retreat] + PANDARUS. Hark! they are coming from the field. Shall we stand up + here and see them as they pass toward Ilium? Good niece, do, + sweet niece Cressida. + CRESSIDA. At your pleasure. + PANDARUS. Here, here, here's an excellent place; here we may see + most bravely. I'll tell you them all by their names as they pass + by; but mark Troilus above the rest. + + AENEAS passes + + CRESSIDA. Speak not so loud. + PANDARUS. That's Aeneas. Is not that a brave man? He's one of the + flowers of Troy, I can tell you. But mark Troilus; you shall see + anon. + + ANTENOR passes + + CRESSIDA. Who's that? + PANDARUS. That's Antenor. He has a shrewd wit, I can tell you; and + he's a man good enough; he's one o' th' soundest judgments in + Troy, whosoever, and a proper man of person. When comes Troilus? + I'll show you Troilus anon. If he see me, you shall see him nod + at me. + CRESSIDA. Will he give you the nod? + PANDARUS. You shall see. + CRESSIDA. If he do, the rich shall have more. + + HECTOR passes + + PANDARUS. That's Hector, that, that, look you, that; there's a + fellow! Go thy way, Hector! There's a brave man, niece. O brave + Hector! Look how he looks. There's a countenance! Is't not a + brave man? + CRESSIDA. O, a brave man! + PANDARUS. Is 'a not? It does a man's heart good. Look you what + hacks are on his helmet! Look you yonder, do you see? Look you + there. There's no jesting; there's laying on; take't off who + will, as they say. There be hacks. + CRESSIDA. Be those with swords? + PANDARUS. Swords! anything, he cares not; an the devil come to him, + it's all one. By God's lid, it does one's heart good. Yonder + comes Paris, yonder comes Paris. + + PARIS passes + + Look ye yonder, niece; is't not a gallant man too, is't not? Why, + this is brave now. Who said he came hurt home to-day? He's not + hurt. Why, this will do Helen's heart good now, ha! Would I could + see Troilus now! You shall see Troilus anon. + + HELENUS passes + + CRESSIDA. Who's that? + PANDARUS. That's Helenus. I marvel where Troilus is. That's + Helenus. I think he went not forth to-day. That's Helenus. + CRESSIDA. Can Helenus fight, uncle? + PANDARUS. Helenus! no. Yes, he'll fight indifferent well. I marvel + where Troilus is. Hark! do you not hear the people cry 'Troilus'? + Helenus is a priest. + CRESSIDA. What sneaking fellow comes yonder? + + TROILUS passes + + PANDARUS. Where? yonder? That's Deiphobus. 'Tis Troilus. There's a + man, niece. Hem! Brave Troilus, the prince of chivalry! + CRESSIDA. Peace, for shame, peace! + PANDARUS. Mark him; note him. O brave Troilus! Look well upon him, + niece; look you how his sword is bloodied, and his helm more + hack'd than Hector's; and how he looks, and how he goes! O + admirable youth! he never saw three and twenty. Go thy way, + Troilus, go thy way. Had I a sister were a grace or a daughter a + goddess, he should take his choice. O admirable man! Paris? Paris + is dirt to him; and, I warrant, Helen, to change, would give an + eye to boot. + CRESSIDA. Here comes more. + + Common soldiers pass + + PANDARUS. Asses, fools, dolts! chaff and bran, chaff and bran! + porridge after meat! I could live and die in the eyes of Troilus. + Ne'er look, ne'er look; the eagles are gone. Crows and daws, + crows and daws! I had rather be such a man as Troilus than + Agamemnon and all Greece. + CRESSIDA. There is amongst the Greeks Achilles, a better man than + Troilus. + PANDARUS. Achilles? A drayman, a porter, a very camel! + CRESSIDA. Well, well. + PANDARUS. Well, well! Why, have you any discretion? Have you any + eyes? Do you know what a man is? Is not birth, beauty, good + shape, discourse, manhood, learning, gentleness, virtue, youth, + liberality, and such like, the spice and salt that season a man? + CRESSIDA. Ay, a minc'd man; and then to be bak'd with no date in + the pie, for then the man's date is out. + PANDARUS. You are such a woman! A man knows not at what ward you + lie. + CRESSIDA. Upon my back, to defend my belly; upon my wit, to defend + my wiles; upon my secrecy, to defend mine honesty; my mask, to + defend my beauty; and you, to defend all these; and at all these + wards I lie at, at a thousand watches. + PANDARUS. Say one of your watches. + CRESSIDA. Nay, I'll watch you for that; and that's one of the + chiefest of them too. If I cannot ward what I would not have hit, + I can watch you for telling how I took the blow; unless it swell + past hiding, and then it's past watching + PANDARUS. You are such another! + + Enter TROILUS' BOY + + BOY. Sir, my lord would instantly speak with you. + PANDARUS. Where? + BOY. At your own house; there he unarms him. + PANDARUS. Good boy, tell him I come. Exit Boy + I doubt he be hurt. Fare ye well, good niece. + CRESSIDA. Adieu, uncle. + PANDARUS. I will be with you, niece, by and by. + CRESSIDA. To bring, uncle. + PANDARUS. Ay, a token from Troilus. + Exit + CRESSIDA. 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 Troilus 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 + + + + +ACT I. SCENE 3. +The Grecian camp. Before AGAMEMNON'S tent + +Sennet. Enter AGAMEMNON, NESTOR, ULYSSES, DIOMEDES, MENELAUS, and +others + + AGAMEMNON. 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. + ULYSSES. 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 Ulysses 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 Ulysses speak. + AGAMEMNON. 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. + ULYSSES. 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 Ulysses here discover'd + The fever whereof all our power is sick. + AGAMEMNON. The nature of the sickness found, Ulysses, + What is the remedy? + ULYSSES. 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 Ulysses says, opinion crowns + With an imperial voice-many are infect. + Ajax 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. + ULYSSES. 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] + AGAMEMNON. What trumpet? Look, Menelaus. + MENELAUS. From Troy. + + Enter AENEAS + + AGAMEMNON. What would you fore our tent? + AENEAS. Is this great Agamemnon's tent, I pray you? + AGAMEMNON. Even this. + AENEAS. May one that is a herald and a prince + Do a fair message to his kingly eyes? + AGAMEMNON. With surety stronger than Achilles' an + Fore all the Greekish heads, which with one voice + Call Agamemnon head and general. + AENEAS. Fair leave and large security. How may + A stranger to those most imperial looks + Know them from eyes of other mortals? + AGAMEMNON. How? + AENEAS. 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? + AGAMEMNON. This Troyan scorns us, or the men of Troy + Are ceremonious courtiers. + AENEAS. 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, Aeneas, + Peace, Troyan; 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. + AGAMEMNON. Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself Aeneas? + AENEAS. Ay, Greek, that is my name. + AGAMEMNON. What's your affair, I pray you? + AENEAS. Sir, pardon; 'tis for Agamemnon's ears. + AGAMEMNON. He hears nought privately that comes from Troy. + AENEAS. 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. + AGAMEMNON. Speak frankly as the wind; + It is not Agamemnon's sleeping hour. + That thou shalt know, Troyan, he is awake, + He tells thee so himself. + AENEAS. 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 Troyans 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. + AGAMEMNON. This shall be told our lovers, Lord Aeneas. + 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. + AENEAS. Now heavens forfend such scarcity of youth! + ULYSSES. Amen. + AGAMEMNON. Fair Lord Aeneas, 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 ULYSSES and NESTOR + ULYSSES. Nestor! + NESTOR. What says Ulysses? + ULYSSES. I have a young conception in my brain; + Be you my time to bring it to some shape. + NESTOR. What is't? + ULYSSES. 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? + ULYSSES. 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 judgment, + Ay, with celerity, find Hector's purpose + Pointing on him. + ULYSSES. 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 Troyans taste our dear'st repute + With their fin'st palate; and trust to me, Ulysses, + 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. + ULYSSES. 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? + ULYSSES. 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 Ajax 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 Ajax 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- + Ajax employ'd plucks down Achilles' plumes. + NESTOR. Now, Ulysses, 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 + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + +ACT II. SCENE 1. +The Grecian camp + +Enter Ajax and THERSITES + + AJAX. Thersites! + THERSITES. Agamemnon-how if he had boils full, an over, generally? + AJAX. Thersites! + THERSITES. And those boils did run-say so. Did not the general run + then? Were not that a botchy core? + AJAX. Dog! + THERSITES. Then there would come some matter from him; + I see none now. + AJAX. Thou bitch-wolf's son, canst thou not hear? Feel, then. + [Strikes him.] + THERSITES. The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel beef-witted + lord! + AJAX. Speak, then, thou whinid'st leaven, speak. I will beat thee + into handsomeness. + THERSITES. 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! + AJAX. Toadstool, learn me the proclamation. + THERSITES. Dost thou think I have no sense, thou strikest me thus? + AJAX. The proclamation! + THERSITES. Thou art proclaim'd, a fool, I think. + AJAX. Do not, porpentine, do not; my fingers itch. + THERSITES. 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. + AJAX. I say, the proclamation. + THERSITES. 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. + AJAX. Mistress Thersites! + THERSITES. Thou shouldst strike him. + AJAX. Cobloaf! + THERSITES. He would pun thee into shivers with his fist, as a + sailor breaks a biscuit. + AJAX. You whoreson cur! [Strikes him] + THERSITES. Do, do. + AJAX. Thou stool for a witch! + THERSITES. 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 Troyans, 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! + AJAX. You dog! + THERSITES. You scurvy lord! + AJAX. You cur! [Strikes him] + THERSITES. Mars his idiot! Do, rudeness; do, camel; do, do. + + Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS + + ACHILLES. Why, how now, Ajax! Wherefore do you thus? + How now, Thersites! What's the matter, man? + THERSITES. You see him there, do you? + ACHILLES. Ay; what's the matter? + THERSITES. Nay, look upon him. + ACHILLES. So I do. What's the matter? + THERSITES. Nay, but regard him well. + ACHILLES. Well! why, so I do. + THERSITES. But yet you look not well upon him; for who some ever + you take him to be, he is Ajax. + ACHILLES. I know that, fool. + THERSITES. Ay, but that fool knows not himself. + AJAX. Therefore I beat thee. + THERSITES. 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, Ajax-who wears his wit in his belly and his guts + in his head-I'll tell you what I say of him. + ACHILLES. What? + THERSITES. I say this Ajax- [AJAX offers to strike him] + ACHILLES. Nay, good Ajax. + THERSITES. Has not so much wit- + ACHILLES. Nay, I must hold you. + THERSITES. As will stop the eye of Helen's needle, for whom he + comes to fight. + ACHILLES. Peace, fool. + THERSITES. I would have peace and quietness, but the fool will not- + he there; that he; look you there. + AJAX. O thou damned cur! I shall- + ACHILLES. Will you set your wit to a fool's? + THERSITES. No, I warrant you, the fool's will shame it. + PATROCLUS. Good words, Thersites. + ACHILLES. What's the quarrel? + AJAX. I bade the vile owl go learn me the tenour of the + proclamation, and he rails upon me. + THERSITES. I serve thee not. + AJAX. Well, go to, go to. + THERSITES. I serve here voluntary. + ACHILLES. Your last service was suff'rance; 'twas not voluntary. No + man is beaten voluntary. Ajax was here the voluntary, and you as + under an impress. + THERSITES. 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. + ACHILLES. What, with me too, Thersites? + THERSITES. There's Ulysses 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. + ACHILLES. What, what? + THERSITES. Yes, good sooth. To Achilles, to Ajax, to- + AJAX. I shall cut out your tongue. + THERSITES. 'Tis no matter; I shall speak as much as thou + afterwards. + PATROCLUS. No more words, Thersites; peace! + THERSITES. I will hold my peace when Achilles' brach bids me, shall + I? + ACHILLES. There's for you, Patroclus. + THERSITES. 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 + PATROCLUS. A good riddance. + ACHILLES. 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. + AJAX. Farewell. Who shall answer him? + ACHILLES. I know not; 'tis put to lott'ry. Otherwise. He knew his + man. + AJAX. O, meaning you! I will go learn more of it. +Exeunt + + + + +ACT II. SCENE 2. +Troy. PRIAM'S palace + +Enter PRIAM, HECTOR, TROILUS, PARIS, and HELENUS + + PRIAM. 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? + HECTOR. 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? + TROILUS. 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! + HELENUS. 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? + TROILUS. 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. + HECTOR. Brother, she is not worth what she doth, cost + The keeping. + TROILUS. What's aught but as 'tis valued? + HECTOR. 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. + TROILUS. 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 judgment: 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! + CASSANDRA. [Within] Cry, Troyans, cry. + PRIAM. What noise, what shriek is this? + TROILUS. 'Tis our mad sister; I do know her voice. + CASSANDRA. [Within] Cry, Troyans. + HECTOR. It is Cassandra. + + Enter CASSANDRA, raving + + CASSANDRA. Cry, Troyans, cry. Lend me ten thousand eyes, + And I will fill them with prophetic tears. + HECTOR. Peace, sister, peace. + CASSANDRA. 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, Troyans, cry. Practise your eyes with tears. + Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand; + Our firebrand brother, Paris, burns us all. + Cry, Troyans, cry, A Helen and a woe! + Cry, cry. Troy burns, or else let Helen go. +Exit + HECTOR. Now, youthful Troilus, 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? + TROILUS. 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. + PARIS. 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. + PRIAM. 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. + PARIS. 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. + HECTOR. Paris and Troilus, 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. + TROILUS. 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 Troyan 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. + HECTOR. 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 + + + + +ACT II. SCENE 3. +The Grecian camp. Before the tent of ACHILLES + +Enter THERSITES, solus + + THERSITES. How now, Thersites! What, lost in the labyrinth of thy + fury? Shall the elephant Ajax 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 + + PATROCLUS. Who's there? Thersites! Good Thersites, come in and + rail. + THERSITES. 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? + PATROCLUS. What, art thou devout? Wast thou in prayer? + THERSITES. Ay, the heavens hear me! + PATROCLUS. Amen. + + Enter ACHILLES + + ACHILLES. Who's there? + PATROCLUS. Thersites, my lord. + ACHILLES. 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? + THERSITES. Thy commander, Achilles. Then tell me, Patroclus, what's + Achilles? + PATROCLUS. Thy lord, Thersites. Then tell me, I pray thee, what's + Thersites? + THERSITES. Thy knower, Patroclus. Then tell me, Patroclus, what art + thou? + PATROCLUS. Thou must tell that knowest. + ACHILLES. O, tell, tell, + THERSITES. I'll decline the whole question. Agamemnon commands + Achilles; Achilles is my lord; I am Patroclus' knower; and + Patroclus is a fool. + PATROCLUS. You rascal! + THERSITES. Peace, fool! I have not done. + ACHILLES. He is a privileg'd man. Proceed, Thersites. + THERSITES. Agamemnon is a fool; Achilles is a fool; Thersites is a + fool; and, as aforesaid, Patroclus is a fool. + ACHILLES. Derive this; come. + THERSITES. 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. + PATROCLUS. Why am I a fool? + THERSITES. Make that demand of the Creator. It suffices me thou + art. Look you, who comes here? + ACHILLES. Come, Patroclus, I'll speak with nobody. Come in with me, + Thersites. +Exit + THERSITES. 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, ULYSSES, NESTOR, DIOMEDES, + AJAX, and CALCHAS + + AGAMEMNON. Where is Achilles? + PATROCLUS. Within his tent; but ill-dispos'd, my lord. + AGAMEMNON. 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. + PATROCLUS. I shall say so to him. +Exit + ULYSSES. We saw him at the opening of his tent. + He is not sick. + AJAX. 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 Ajax thus to bay at him? + ULYSSES. Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him. + NESTOR.Who, Thersites? + ULYSSES. He. + NESTOR. Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost his argument + ULYSSES. 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! + ULYSSES. The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie. + + Re-enter PATROCLUS + + Here comes Patroclus. + NESTOR. No Achilles with him. + ULYSSES. The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy; his legs + are legs for necessity, not for flexure. + PATROCLUS. 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. + AGAMEMNON. 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 judgment; 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. + PATROCLUS. I shall, and bring his answer presently. +Exit + AGAMEMNON. In second voice we'll not be satisfied; + We come to speak with him. Ulysses, enter you. + Exit ULYSSES + AJAX. What is he more than another? + AGAMEMNON. No more than what he thinks he is. + AJAX. Is he so much? Do you not think he thinks himself a better + man than I am? + AGAMEMNON. No question. + AJAX. Will you subscribe his thought and say he is? + AGAMEMNON. No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as valiant, as wise, + no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether more tractable. + AJAX. Why should a man be proud? How doth pride grow? I know not + what pride is. + AGAMEMNON. Your mind is the clearer, Ajax, 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 ULYSSES + + AJAX. 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? + ULYSSES. Achilles will not to the field to-morrow. + AGAMEMNON. What's his excuse? + ULYSSES. 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. + AGAMEMNON. Why will he not, upon our fair request, + Untent his person and share the air with us? + ULYSSES. 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.' + AGAMEMNON. Let Ajax 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. + ULYSSES. O Agamemnon, let it not be so! + We'll consecrate the steps that Ajax 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. + DIOMEDES. [Aside] And how his silence drinks up this applause! + AJAX. If I go to him, with my armed fist I'll pash him o'er the + face. + AGAMEMNON. O, no, you shall not go. + AJAX. An 'a be proud with me I'll pheeze his pride. + Let me go to him. + ULYSSES. Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel. + AJAX. A paltry, insolent fellow! + NESTOR. [Aside] How he describes himself! + AJAX. Can he not be sociable? + ULYSSES. [Aside] The raven chides blackness. + AJAX. I'll let his humours blood. + AGAMEMNON. [Aside] He will be the physician that should be the + patient. + AJAX. An all men were a my mind- + ULYSSES. [Aside] Wit would be out of fashion. + AJAX. 'A should not bear it so, 'a should eat's words first. + Shall pride carry it? + NESTOR. [Aside] An 'twould, you'd carry half. + ULYSSES. [Aside] 'A would have ten shares. + AJAX. 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. + ULYSSES. [To AGAMEMNON] My lord, you feed too much on this dislike. + NESTOR. Our noble general, do not do so. + DIOMEDES. You must prepare to fight without Achilles. + ULYSSES. 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. + ULYSSES. Know the whole world, he is as valiant. + AJAX. A whoreson dog, that shall palter with us thus! + Would he were a Troyan! + NESTOR. What a vice were it in Ajax now- + ULYSSES. If he were proud. + DIOMEDES. Or covetous of praise. + ULYSSES. Ay, or surly borne. + DIOMEDES. Or strange, or self-affected. + ULYSSES. 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 Ajax. 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 Ajax' and your brain so temper'd, + You should not have the eminence of him, + But be as Ajax. + AJAX. Shall I call you father? + NESTOR. Ay, my good son. + DIOMEDES. Be rul'd by him, Lord Ajax. + ULYSSES. 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, Ajax shall cope the best. + AGAMEMNON. Go we to council. Let Achilles sleep. + Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw deep. + Exeunt + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + +ACT III. SCENE 1. +Troy. PRIAM'S palace + +Music sounds within. Enter PANDARUS and a SERVANT + + PANDARUS. Friend, you-pray you, a word. Do you not follow the young + Lord Paris? + SERVANT. Ay, sir, when he goes before me. + PANDARUS. You depend upon him, I mean? + SERVANT. Sir, I do depend upon the lord. + PANDARUS. You depend upon a notable gentleman; I must needs praise + him. + SERVANT. The lord be praised! + PANDARUS. You know me, do you not? + SERVANT. Faith, sir, superficially. + PANDARUS. Friend, know me better: I am the Lord Pandarus. + SERVANT. I hope I shall know your honour better. + PANDARUS. I do desire it. + SERVANT. You are in the state of grace. + PANDARUS. Grace! Not so, friend; honour and lordship are my titles. + What music is this? + SERVANT. I do but partly know, sir; it is music in parts. + PANDARUS. Know you the musicians? + SERVANT. Wholly, sir. + PANDARUS. Who play they to? + SERVANT. To the hearers, sir. + PANDARUS. At whose pleasure, friend? + SERVANT. At mine, sir, and theirs that love music. + PANDARUS. Command, I mean, friend. + SERVANT. Who shall I command, sir? + PANDARUS. Friend, we understand not one another: I am too courtly, + and thou art too cunning. At whose request do these men play? + SERVANT. 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- + PANDARUS. Who, my cousin, Cressida? + SERVANT. No, sir, Helen. Could not you find out that by her + attributes? + PANDARUS. It should seem, fellow, that thou hast not seen the Lady + Cressida. I come to speak with Paris from the Prince Troilus; I + will make a complimental assault upon him, for my business + seethes. + SERVANT. Sodden business! There's a stew'd phrase indeed! + + Enter PARIS and HELEN, attended + + PANDARUS. 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. + HELEN. Dear lord, you are full of fair words. + PANDARUS. You speak your fair pleasure, sweet queen. Fair prince, + here is good broken music. + PARIS. 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. + HELEN. He is full of harmony. + PANDARUS. Truly, lady, no. + HELEN. O, sir- + PANDARUS. Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude. + PARIS. Well said, my lord. Well, you say so in fits. + PANDARUS. I have business to my lord, dear queen. My lord, will you + vouchsafe me a word? + HELEN. Nay, this shall not hedge us out. We'll hear you sing, + certainly- + PANDARUS. Well sweet queen, you are pleasant with me. But, marry, + thus, my lord: my dear lord and most esteemed friend, your + brother Troilus- + HELEN. My Lord Pandarus, honey-sweet lord- + PANDARUS. Go to, sweet queen, go to-commends himself most + affectionately to you- + HELEN. You shall not bob us out of our melody. If you do, our + melancholy upon your head! + PANDARUS. Sweet queen, sweet queen; that's a sweet queen, i' faith. + HELEN. And to make a sweet lady sad is a sour offence. + PANDARUS. 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. + HELEN. My Lord Pandarus! + PANDARUS. What says my sweet queen, my very very sweet queen? + PARIS. What exploit's in hand? Where sups he to-night? + HELEN. Nay, but, my lord- + PANDARUS. What says my sweet queen?-My cousin will fall out with + you. + HELEN. You must not know where he sups. + PARIS. I'll lay my life, with my disposer Cressida. + PANDARUS. No, no, no such matter; you are wide. Come, your disposer + is sick. + PARIS. Well, I'll make's excuse. + PANDARUS. Ay, good my lord. Why should you say Cressida? + No, your poor disposer's sick. + PARIS. I spy. + PANDARUS. You spy! What do you spy?-Come, give me an instrument. + Now, sweet queen. + HELEN. Why, this is kindly done. + PANDARUS. My niece is horribly in love with a thing you have, sweet + queen. + HELEN. She shall have it, my lord, if it be not my Lord Paris. + PANDARUS. He! No, she'll none of him; they two are twain. + HELEN. Falling in, after falling out, may make them three. + PANDARUS. Come, come. I'll hear no more of this; I'll sing you a + song now. + HELEN. Ay, ay, prithee now. By my troth, sweet lord, thou hast a + fine forehead. + PANDARUS. Ay, you may, you may. + HELEN. Let thy song be love. This love will undo us all. O Cupid, + Cupid, Cupid! + PANDARUS. Love! Ay, that it shall, i' faith. + PARIS. Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but love. + PANDARUS. 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! + + HELEN. In love, i' faith, to the very tip of the nose. + PARIS. 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. + PANDARUS. 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? + PARIS. 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 Troilus went not? + HELEN. He hangs the lip at something. You know all, Lord Pandarus. + PANDARUS. Not I, honey-sweet queen. I long to hear how they spend + to-day. You'll remember your brother's excuse? + PARIS. To a hair. + PANDARUS. Farewell, sweet queen. + HELEN. Commend me to your niece. + PANDARUS. I will, sweet queen. Exit. Sound a retreat + PARIS. 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. + HELEN. '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. + PARIS. Sweet, above thought I love thee. +Exeunt + + + + +ACT III. SCENE 2. +Troy. PANDARUS' orchard + +Enter PANDARUS and TROILUS' BOY, meeting + + PANDARUS. How now! Where's thy master? At my cousin Cressida's? + BOY. No, sir; he stays for you to conduct him thither. + + Enter TROILUS + + PANDARUS. O, here he comes. How now, how now! + TROILUS. Sirrah, walk off. Exit Boy + PANDARUS. Have you seen my cousin? + TROILUS. 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! + PANDARUS. Walk here i' th' orchard, I'll bring her straight. + Exit + TROILUS. 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 + + PANDARUS. 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 + TROILUS. 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 CRESSIDA + + PANDARUS. 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. + TROILUS. You have bereft me of all words, lady. + PANDARUS. 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 + CRESSIDA. Will you walk in, my lord? + TROILUS. O Cressid, how often have I wish'd me thus! + CRESSIDA. Wish'd, my lord! The gods grant-O my lord! + TROILUS. What should they grant? What makes this pretty abruption? + What too curious dreg espies my sweet lady in the fountain of our + love? + CRESSIDA. More dregs than water, if my fears have eyes. + TROILUS. Fears make devils of cherubims; they never see truly. + CRESSIDA. Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds safer footing + than blind reason stumbling without fear. To fear the worst oft + cures the worse. + TROILUS. O, let my lady apprehend no fear! In all Cupid's pageant + there is presented no monster. + CRESSIDA. Nor nothing monstrous neither? + TROILUS. Nothing, but our undertakings when we vow to weep seas, + live in fire, eat 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. + CRESSIDA. 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? + TROILUS. 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: + Troilus 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 Troilus. + CRESSIDA. Will you walk in, my lord? + + Re-enter PANDARUS + + PANDARUS. What, blushing still? Have you not done talking yet? + CRESSIDA. Well, uncle, what folly I commit, I dedicate to you. + PANDARUS. 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. + TROILUS. You know now your hostages: your uncle's word and my firm + faith. + PANDARUS. 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. + CRESSIDA. Boldness comes to me now and brings me heart. + Prince Troilus, I have lov'd you night and day + For many weary months. + TROILUS. Why was my Cressid then so hard to win? + CRESSIDA. 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. + TROILUS. And shall, albeit sweet music issues thence. + PANDARUS. Pretty, i' faith. + CRESSIDA. 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. + TROILUS. Your leave, sweet Cressid! + PANDARUS. Leave! An you take leave till to-morrow morning- + CRESSIDA. Pray you, content you. + TROILUS. What offends you, lady? + CRESSIDA. Sir, mine own company. + TROILUS. You cannot shun yourself. + CRESSIDA. 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. + TROILUS. Well know they what they speak that speak so wisely. + CRESSIDA. 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. + TROILUS. 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. + CRESSIDA. In that I'll war with you. + TROILUS. 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 Troilus, 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 Troilus' shall crown up the verse + And sanctify the numbers. + CRESSIDA. 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.' + PANDARUS. 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 Troiluses, all false women Cressids, and all + brokers between Pandars. Say 'Amen.' + TROILUS. Amen. + CRESSIDA. Amen. + PANDARUS. 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 + + + + +ACT III. SCENE 3. +The Greek camp + +Flourish. Enter AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, DIOMEDES, NESTOR, AJAX, +MENELAUS, and CALCHAS + + CALCHAS. 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. + AGAMEMNON. What wouldst thou of us, Troyan? Make demand. + CALCHAS. You have a Troyan 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. + AGAMEMNON. 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. Ajax is ready. + DIOMEDES. This shall I undertake; and 'tis a burden + Which I am proud to bear. + Exeunt DIOMEDES and CALCHAS + + ACHILLES and PATROCLUS stand in their tent + + ULYSSES. 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. + AGAMEMNON. 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. + ACHILLES. What comes the general to speak with me? + You know my mind. I'll fight no more 'gainst Troy. + AGAMEMNON. What says Achilles? Would he aught with us? + NESTOR. Would you, my lord, aught with the general? + ACHILLES. No. + NESTOR. Nothing, my lord. + AGAMEMNON. The better. + Exeunt AGAMEMNON and NESTOR + ACHILLES. Good day, good day. + MENELAUS. How do you? How do you? +Exit + ACHILLES. What, does the cuckold scorn me? + AJAX. How now, Patroclus? + ACHILLES. Good morrow, Ajax. + AJAX. Ha? + ACHILLES. Good morrow. + AJAX. Ay, and good next day too. +Exit + ACHILLES. What mean these fellows? Know they not Achilles? + PATROCLUS. 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. + ACHILLES. 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 Ulysses. + I'll interrupt his reading. + How now, Ulysses! + ULYSSES. Now, great Thetis' son! + ACHILLES. What are you reading? + ULYSSES. 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. + ACHILLES. This is not strange, Ulysses. + 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. + ULYSSES. 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 Ajax. 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- + Ajax 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 Ajax on the shoulder, + As if his foot were on brave Hector's breast, + And great Troy shrinking. + ACHILLES. 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? + ULYSSES. 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 Ajax, + 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. + ACHILLES. Of this my privacy + I have strong reasons. + ULYSSES. 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. + ACHILLES. Ha! known! + ULYSSES. 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 Ajax bravely beat down him.' + Farewell, my lord. I as your lover speak. + The fool slides o'er the ice that you should break. +Exit + PATROCLUS. 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. + ACHILLES. Shall Ajax fight with Hector? + PATROCLUS. Ay, and perhaps receive much honour by him. + ACHILLES. I see my reputation is at stake; + My fame is shrewdly gor'd. + PATROCLUS. 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. + ACHILLES. Go call Thersites hither, sweet Patroclus. + I'll send the fool to Ajax, and desire him + T' invite the Troyan 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! + THERSITES. A wonder! + ACHILLES. What? + THERSITES. Ajax goes up and down the field asking for himself. + ACHILLES. How so? + THERSITES. He must fight singly to-morrow with Hector, and is so + prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling that he raves in + saying nothing. + ACHILLES. How can that be? + THERSITES. 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, Ajax'; 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. + ACHILLES. Thou must be my ambassador to him, Thersites. + THERSITES. 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 Ajax. + ACHILLES. To him, Patroclus. Tell him I humbly desire the valiant + Ajax 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. + PATROCLUS. Jove bless great Ajax! + THERSITES. Hum! + PATROCLUS. I come from the worthy Achilles- + THERSITES. Ha! + PATROCLUS. Who most humbly desires you to invite Hector to his + tent- + THERSITES. Hum! + PATROCLUS. And to procure safe conduct from Agamemnon. + THERSITES. Agamemnon! + PATROCLUS. Ay, my lord. + THERSITES. Ha! + PATROCLUS. What you say to't? + THERSITES. God buy you, with all my heart. + PATROCLUS. Your answer, sir. + THERSITES. 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. + PATROCLUS. Your answer, sir. + THERSITES. Fare ye well, with all my heart. + ACHILLES. Why, but he is not in this tune, is he? + THERSITES. 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. + ACHILLES. Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight. + THERSITES. Let me carry another to his horse; for that's the more + capable creature. + ACHILLES. My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirr'd; + And I myself see not the bottom of it. + Exeunt ACHILLES and PATROCLUS + THERSITES. 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 + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + +ACT IV. SCENE 1. +Troy. A street + +Enter, at one side, AENEAS, and servant with a torch; at another, +PARIS, DEIPHOBUS, ANTENOR, DIOMEDES the Grecian, and others, with +torches + + PARIS. See, ho! Who is that there? + DEIPHOBUS. It is the Lord Aeneas. + AENEAS. 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. + DIOMEDES. That's my mind too. Good morrow, Lord Aeneas. + PARIS. A valiant Greek, Aeneas -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. + AENEAS. 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. + DIOMEDES. 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. + AENEAS. 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. + DIOMEDES. We sympathise. Jove let Aeneas 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! + AENEAS. We know each other well. + DIOMEDES.We do; and long to know each other worse. + PARIS. This is the most despiteful'st gentle greeting + The noblest hateful love, that e'er I heard of. + What business, lord, so early? + AENEAS. I was sent for to the King; but why, I know not. + PARIS. 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 Troilus 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. + AENEAS. That I assure you: + Troilus had rather Troy were borne to Greece + Than Cressid borne from Troy. + PARIS. There is no help; + The bitter disposition of the time + Will have it so. On, lord; we'll follow you. + AENEAS. Good morrow, all. Exit with servant + PARIS. 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? + DIOMEDES. 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. + PARIS. You are too bitter to your country-woman. + DIOMEDES. 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 Troyan hath been slain; since she could speak, + She hath not given so many good words breath + As for her Greeks and Troyans suff'red death. + PARIS. 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 + + + + +ACT IV. SCENE 2. +Troy. The court of PANDARUS' house + +Enter TROILUS and CRESSIDA + + TROILUS. Dear, trouble not yourself; the morn is cold. + CRESSIDA. Then, sweet my lord, I'll call mine uncle down; + He shall unbolt the gates. + TROILUS. 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! + CRESSIDA. Good morrow, then. + TROILUS. I prithee now, to bed. + CRESSIDA. Are you aweary of me? + TROILUS. 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. + CRESSIDA. Night hath been too brief. + TROILUS. 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. + CRESSIDA. 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. + PANDARUS. [Within] What's all the doors open here? + TROILUS. It is your uncle. + + Enter PANDARUS + + CRESSIDA. A pestilence on him! Now will he be mocking. + I shall have such a life! + PANDARUS. How now, how now! How go maidenheads? + Here, you maid! Where's my cousin Cressid? + CRESSIDA. Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle. + You bring me to do, and then you flout me too. + PANDARUS. To do what? to do what? Let her say what. + What have I brought you to do? + CRESSIDA. Come, come, beshrew your heart! You'll ne'er be good, + Nor suffer others. + PANDARUS. 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! + CRESSIDA. 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. + TROILUS. Ha! ha! + CRESSIDA. 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 TROILUS and +CRESSIDA + PANDARUS. Who's there? What's the matter? Will you beat down the + door? How now? What's the matter? + + Enter AENEAS + AENEAS. Good morrow, lord, good morrow. + PANDARUS. Who's there? My lord Aeneas? By my troth, + I knew you not. What news with you so early? + AENEAS. Is not Prince Troilus here? + PANDARUS. Here! What should he do here? + AENEAS. Come, he is here, my lord; do not deny him. + It doth import him much to speak with me. + PANDARUS. 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? + AENEAS. 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 TROILUS + + TROILUS. How now! What's the matter? + AENEAS. 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. + TROILUS. Is it so concluded? + AENEAS. By Priam, and the general state of Troy. + They are at hand and ready to effect it. + TROILUS. How my achievements mock me! + I will go meet them; and, my lord Aeneas, + We met by chance; you did not find me here. + AENEAS. Good, good, my lord, the secrets of neighbour Pandar + Have not more gift in taciturnity. + Exeunt TROILUS and AENEAS + PANDARUS. 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 CRESSIDA + + CRESSIDA. How now! What's the matter? Who was here? + PANDARUS. Ah, ah! + CRESSIDA. Why sigh you so profoundly? Where's my lord? Gone? Tell + me, sweet uncle, what's the matter? + PANDARUS. Would I were as deep under the earth as I am above! + CRESSIDA. O the gods! What's the matter? + PANDARUS. 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! + CRESSIDA. Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees I beseech you, + what's the matter? + PANDARUS. Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone; thou art + chang'd for Antenor; thou must to thy father, and be gone from + Troilus. 'Twill be his death; 'twill be his bane; he cannot bear + it. + CRESSIDA. O you immortal gods! I will not go. + PANDARUS. Thou must. + CRESSIDA. 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 Troilus. O you gods divine, + Make Cressid's name the very crown of falsehood, + If ever she leave Troilus! 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- + PANDARUS. Do, do. + CRESSIDA. Tear my bright hair, and scratch my praised cheeks, + Crack my clear voice with sobs and break my heart, + With sounding 'Troilus.' I will not go from Troy. + Exeunt + + + + +ACT IV. SCENE 3. +Troy. A street before PANDARUS' house + +Enter PARIS, TROILUS, AENEAS, DEIPHOBUS, ANTENOR, and DIOMEDES + + PARIS. It is great morning; and the hour prefix'd + For her delivery to this valiant Greek + Comes fast upon. Good my brother Troilus, + Tell you the lady what she is to do + And haste her to the purpose. + TROILUS. 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 Troilus + A priest, there off'ring to it his own heart. +Exit + PARIS. I know what 'tis to love, + And would, as I shall pity, I could help! + Please you walk in, my lords. +Exeunt + + + + +ACT IV. SCENE 4. +Troy. PANDARUS' house + +Enter PANDARUS and CRESSIDA + + PANDARUS. Be moderate, be moderate. + CRESSIDA. 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 TROILUS + + PANDARUS. Here, here, here he comes. Ah, sweet ducks! + CRESSIDA. O Troilus! Troilus! [Embracing him] + PANDARUS. 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! + TROILUS. 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. + CRESSIDA. Have the gods envy? + PANDARUS. Ay, ay, ay; 'tis too plain a case. + CRESSIDA. And is it true that I must go from Troy? + TROILUS. A hateful truth. + CRESSIDA. What, and from Troilus too? + TROILUS. From Troy and Troilus. + CRESSIDA. Is't possible? + TROILUS. 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. + AENEAS. [Within] My lord, is the lady ready? + TROILUS. 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. + PANDARUS. Where are my tears? Rain, to lay this wind, or my heart + will be blown up by th' root? +Exit + CRESSIDA. I must then to the Grecians? + TROILUS. No remedy. + CRESSIDA. A woeful Cressid 'mongst the merry Greeks! + When shall we see again? + TROILUS. Hear me, my love. Be thou but true of heart- + CRESSIDA. I true! how now! What wicked deem is this? + TROILUS. 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. + CRESSIDA. O, you shall be expos'd, my lord, to dangers + As infinite as imminent! But I'll be true. + TROILUS. And I'll grow friend with danger. Wear this sleeve. + CRESSIDA. And you this glove. When shall I see you? + TROILUS. I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels + To give thee nightly visitation. + But yet be true. + CRESSIDA. O heavens! 'Be true' again! + TROILUS. 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. + CRESSIDA. O heavens! you love me not. + TROILUS. Die I a villain, then! + In this I do not call your faith in question + So mainly as my merit. I cannot sing, + Nor heel the high lavolt, nor sweeten talk, + Nor play at subtle games-fair virtues all, + To which the Grecians are most prompt and pregnant; + But I can tell that in each grace of these + There lurks a still and dumb-discoursive devil + That tempts most cunningly. But be not tempted. + CRESSIDA. Do you think I will? + TROILUS. No. + But something may be done that we will not; + And sometimes we are devils to ourselves, + When we will tempt the frailty of our powers, + Presuming on their changeful potency. + AENEAS. [Within] Nay, good my lord! + TROILUS. Come, kiss; and let us part. + PARIS. [Within] Brother Troilus! + TROILUS. Good brother, come you hither; + And bring Aeneas and the Grecian with you. + CRESSIDA. My lord, will you be true? + TROILUS. 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 AENEAS, PARIS, ANTENOR, DEIPHOBUS, 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. + DIOMEDES. 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. + TROILUS. 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. + DIOMEDES. O, be not mov'd, Prince Troilus. + 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.' + TROILUS. 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 TROILUS, CRESSIDA, and DIOMEDES + [Sound trumpet] + PARIS. Hark! Hector's trumpet. + AENEAS. How have we spent this morning! + The Prince must think me tardy and remiss, + That swore to ride before him to the field. + PARIS. 'Tis Troilus' fault. Come, come to field with him. + DEIPHOBUS. Let us make ready straight. + AENEAS. 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 + + + + +ACT IV. SCENE 5. +The Grecian camp. Lists set out + +Enter AJAX, armed; AGAMEMNON, ACHILLES, PATROCLUS, MENELAUS, +ULYSSES, NESTOR, and others + + AGAMEMNON. Here art thou in appointment fresh and fair, + Anticipating time with starting courage. + Give with thy trumpet a loud note to Troy, + Thou dreadful Ajax, that the appalled air + May pierce the head of the great combatant, + And hale him hither. + AJAX. 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] + ULYSSES. No trumpet answers. + ACHILLES. 'Tis but early days. + + Enter DIOMEDES, with CRESSIDA + + AGAMEMNON. Is not yond Diomed, with Calchas' daughter? + ULYSSES. '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. + AGAMEMNON. Is this the lady Cressid? + DIOMEDES. Even she. + AGAMEMNON. Most dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet lady. + NESTOR. Our general doth salute you with a kiss. + ULYSSES. 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. + ACHILLES. I'll take that winter from your lips, fair lady. + Achilles bids you welcome. + MENELAUS. I had good argument for kissing once. + PATROCLUS. But that's no argument for kissing now; + For thus popp'd Paris in his hardiment, + And parted thus you and your argument. + ULYSSES. O deadly gall, and theme of all our scorns! + For which we lose our heads to gild his horns. + PATROCLUS. The first was Menelaus' kiss; this, mine- + [Kisses her again] + Patroclus kisses you. + MENELAUS. O, this is trim! + PATROCLUS. Paris and I kiss evermore for him. + MENELAUS. I'll have my kiss, sir. Lady, by your leave. + CRESSIDA. In kissing, do you render or receive? + PATROCLUS. Both take and give. + CRESSIDA. I'll make my match to live, + The kiss you take is better than you give; + Therefore no kiss. + MENELAUS. I'll give you boot; I'll give you three for one. + CRESSIDA. You are an odd man; give even or give none. + MENELAUS. An odd man, lady? Every man is odd. + CRESSIDA. No, Paris is not; for you know 'tis true + That you are odd, and he is even with you. + MENELAUS. You fillip me o' th' head. + CRESSIDA. No, I'll be sworn. + ULYSSES. It were no match, your nail against his horn. + May I, sweet lady, beg a kiss of you? + CRESSIDA. You may. + ULYSSES. I do desire it. + CRESSIDA. Why, beg then. + ULYSSES. Why then, for Venus' sake give me a kiss + When Helen is a maid again, and his. + CRESSIDA. I am your debtor; claim it when 'tis due. + ULYSSES. Never's my day, and then a kiss of you. + DIOMEDES. Lady, a word. I'll bring you to your father. + Exit with CRESSIDA + NESTOR. A woman of quick sense. + ULYSSES. 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 Troyans' trumpet. + + Enter HECTOR, armed; AENEAS, TROILUS, PARIS, HELENUS, + and other Trojans, with attendants + + AGAMEMNON. Yonder comes the troop. + AENEAS. 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. + AGAMEMNON. Which way would Hector have it? + AENEAS. He cares not; he'll obey conditions. + ACHILLES. 'Tis done like Hector; but securely done, + A little proudly, and great deal misprizing + The knight oppos'd. + AENEAS. If not Achilles, sir, + What is your name? + ACHILLES. If not Achilles, nothing. + AENEAS. 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 Ajax 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 Troyan and half Greek. + ACHILLES. A maiden battle then? O, I perceive you! + + Re-enter DIOMEDES + + AGAMEMNON. Here is Sir Diomed. Go, gentle knight, + Stand by our Ajax. As you and Lord AEneas + 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. + [AJAX and HECTOR enter the lists] + ULYSSES. They are oppos'd already. + AGAMEMNON. What Troyan is that same that looks so heavy? + ULYSSES. 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 judgment 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 Troilus, and on him erect + A second hope as fairly built as Hector. + Thus says Aeneas, 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 AJAX fight] + AGAMEMNON. They are in action. + NESTOR. Now, Ajax, hold thine own! + TROILUS. Hector, thou sleep'st; + Awake thee. + AGAMEMNON. His blows are well dispos'd. There, Ajax! + [Trumpets cease] + DIOMEDES. You must no more. + AENEAS. Princes, enough, so please you. + AJAX. I am not warm yet; let us fight again. + DIOMEDES. As Hector pleases. + HECTOR. 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 Troyan so + That thou could'st say 'This hand is Grecian all, + And this is Troyan; 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, Ajax. + By him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms; + Hector would have them fall upon him thus. + Cousin, all honour to thee! + AJAX. 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. + HECTOR. 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. + AENEAS. There is expectance here from both the sides + What further you will do. + HECTOR. We'll answer it: + The issue is embracement. Ajax, farewell. + AJAX. If I might in entreaties find success, + As seld I have the chance, I would desire + My famous cousin to our Grecian tents. + DIOMEDES. 'Tis Agamemnon's wish; and great Achilles + Doth long to see unarm'd the valiant Hector. + HECTOR. Aeneas, call my brother Troilus to me, + And signify this loving interview + To the expecters of our Troyan 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 + + AJAX. Great Agamemnon comes to meet us here. + HECTOR. 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. + AGAMEMNON.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. + HECTOR. I thank thee, most imperious Agamemnon. + AGAMEMNON. [To Troilus] My well-fam'd lord of Troy, no less to you. + MENELAUS. Let me confirm my princely brother's greeting. + You brace of warlike brothers, welcome hither. + HECTOR. Who must we answer? + AENEAS. The noble Menelaus. + HECTOR. 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. + MENELAUS. Name her not now, sir; she's a deadly theme. + HECTOR. O, pardon; I offend. + NESTOR. I have, thou gallant Troyan, 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. + AENEAS. 'Tis the old Nestor. + HECTOR. 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. + HECTOR. 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. + ULYSSES. I wonder now how yonder city stands, + When we have here her base and pillar by us. + HECTOR. I know your favour, Lord Ulysses, well. + Ah, sir, there's many a Greek and Troyan dead, + Since first I saw yourself and Diomed + In Ilion on your Greekish embassy. + ULYSSES. 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. + HECTOR. 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. + ULYSSES. 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. + ACHILLES. I shall forestall thee, Lord Ulysses, thou! + Now, Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee; + I have with exact view perus'd thee, Hector, + And quoted joint by joint. + HECTOR. Is this Achilles? + ACHILLES. I am Achilles. + HECTOR. Stand fair, I pray thee; let me look on thee. + ACHILLES. Behold thy fill. + HECTOR. Nay, I have done already. + ACHILLES. Thou art too brief. I will the second time, + As I would buy thee, view thee limb by limb. + HECTOR. 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? + ACHILLES. 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. + HECTOR. 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? + ACHILLES. I tell thee yea. + HECTOR. 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- + AJAX. 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. + HECTOR. I pray you let us see you in the field; + We have had pelting wars since you refus'd + The Grecians' cause. + ACHILLES. Dost thou entreat me, Hector? + To-morrow do I meet thee, fell as death; + To-night all friends. + HECTOR. Thy hand upon that match. + AGAMEMNON. 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 TROILUS and ULYSSES + TROILUS. My Lord Ulysses, tell me, I beseech you, + In what place of the field doth Calchas keep? + ULYSSES. At Menelaus' tent, most princely Troilus. + 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. + TROILUS. Shall I, sweet lord, be bound to you so much, + After we part from Agamemnon's tent, + To bring me thither? + ULYSSES. 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? + TROILUS. 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 + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + +ACT V. SCENE 1. +The Grecian camp. Before the tent of ACHILLES + +Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS + + ACHILLES. 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. + PATROCLUS. Here comes Thersites. + + Enter THERSITES + + ACHILLES. How now, thou core of envy! + Thou crusty batch of nature, what's the news? + THERSITES. Why, thou picture of what thou seemest, and idol of + idiot worshippers, here's a letter for thee. + ACHILLES. From whence, fragment? + THERSITES. Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy. + PATROCLUS. Who keeps the tent now? + THERSITES. The surgeon's box or the patient's wound. + PATROCLUS. Well said, Adversity! and what needs these tricks? + THERSITES. Prithee, be silent, boy; I profit not by thy talk; thou + art said to be Achilles' male varlet. + PATROCLUS. Male varlet, you rogue! What's that? + THERSITES. 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! + PATROCLUS. Why, thou damnable box of envy, thou, what meanest thou + to curse thus? + THERSITES. Do I curse thee? + PATROCLUS. Why, no, you ruinous butt; you whoreson + indistinguishable cur, no. + THERSITES. 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! + PATROCLUS. Out, gall! + THERSITES. Finch egg! + ACHILLES. 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 + THERSITES. 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, TROILUS, AJAX, AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, + NESTOR, MENELAUS, and DIOMEDES, with lights + + AGAMEMNON. We go wrong, we go wrong. + AJAX. No, yonder 'tis; + There, where we see the lights. + HECTOR. I trouble you. + AJAX. No, not a whit. + + Re-enter ACHILLES + + ULYSSES. Here comes himself to guide you. + ACHILLES. Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, Princes all. + AGAMEMNON. So now, fair Prince of Troy, I bid good night; + Ajax commands the guard to tend on you. + HECTOR. Thanks, and good night to the Greeks' general. + MENELAUS. Good night, my lord. + HECTOR. Good night, sweet Lord Menelaus. + THERSITES. Sweet draught! 'Sweet' quoth 'a? + Sweet sink, sweet sewer! + ACHILLES. Good night and welcome, both at once, to those + That go or tarry. + AGAMEMNON. Good night. + Exeunt AGAMEMNON and MENELAUS + ACHILLES. Old Nestor tarries; and you too, Diomed, + Keep Hector company an hour or two. + DIOMEDES. I cannot, lord; I have important business, + The tide whereof is now. Good night, great Hector. + HECTOR. Give me your hand. + ULYSSES. [Aside to TROILUS] Follow his torch; he goes to + Calchas' tent; I'll keep you company. + TROILUS. Sweet sir, you honour me. + HECTOR. And so, good night. + Exit DIOMEDES; ULYSSES and TROILUS following + ACHILLES. Come, come, enter my tent. + Exeunt all but THERSITES + THERSITES. 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 + Troyan drab, and uses the traitor Calchas' tent. I'll after. + Nothing but lechery! All incontinent varlets! +Exit + + + + +ACT V. SCENE 2. +The Grecian camp. Before CALCHAS' tent + +Enter DIOMEDES + + DIOMEDES. What, are you up here, ho? Speak. + CALCHAS. [Within] Who calls? + DIOMEDES. Diomed. Calchas, I think. Where's your daughter? + CALCHAS. [Within] She comes to you. + + Enter TROILUS and ULYSSES, at a distance; after them + THERSITES + + ULYSSES. Stand where the torch may not discover us. + + Enter CRESSIDA + + TROILUS. Cressid comes forth to him. + DIOMEDES. How now, my charge! + CRESSIDA. Now, my sweet guardian! Hark, a word with you. +[Whispers] + TROILUS. Yea, so familiar! + ULYSSES. She will sing any man at first sight. + THERSITES. And any man may sing her, if he can take her cliff; + she's noted. + DIOMEDES. Will you remember? + CRESSIDA. Remember? Yes. + DIOMEDES. Nay, but do, then; + And let your mind be coupled with your words. + TROILUS. What shall she remember? + ULYSSES. List! + CRESSIDA. Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly. + THERSITES. Roguery! + DIOMEDES. Nay, then- + CRESSIDA. I'll tell you what- + DIOMEDES. Fo, fo! come, tell a pin; you are a forsworn- + CRESSIDA. In faith, I cannot. What would you have me do? + THERSITES. A juggling trick, to be secretly open. + DIOMEDES. What did you swear you would bestow on me? + CRESSIDA. I prithee, do not hold me to mine oath; + Bid me do anything but that, sweet Greek. + DIOMEDES. Good night. + TROILUS. Hold, patience! + ULYSSES. How now, Troyan! + CRESSIDA. Diomed! + DIOMEDES. No, no, good night; I'll be your fool no more. + TROILUS. Thy better must. + CRESSIDA. Hark! a word in your ear. + TROILUS. O plague and madness! + ULYSSES. 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. + TROILUS. Behold, I pray you. + ULYSSES. Nay, good my lord, go off; + You flow to great distraction; come, my lord. + TROILUS. I prithee stay. + ULYSSES. You have not patience; come. + TROILUS. I pray you, stay; by hell and all hell's torments, + I will not speak a word. + DIOMEDES. And so, good night. + CRESSIDA. Nay, but you part in anger. + TROILUS. Doth that grieve thee? O withered truth! + ULYSSES. How now, my lord? + TROILUS. By Jove, I will be patient. + CRESSIDA. Guardian! Why, Greek! + DIOMEDES. Fo, fo! adieu! you palter. + CRESSIDA. In faith, I do not. Come hither once again. + ULYSSES. You shake, my lord, at something; will you go? + You will break out. + TROILUS. She strokes his cheek. + ULYSSES. Come, come. + TROILUS. 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. + THERSITES. How the devil luxury, with his fat rump and potato + finger, tickles these together! Fry, lechery, fry! + DIOMEDES. But will you, then? + CRESSIDA. In faith, I will, lo; never trust me else. + DIOMEDES. Give me some token for the surety of it. + CRESSIDA. I'll fetch you one. +Exit + ULYSSES. You have sworn patience. + TROILUS. Fear me not, my lord; + I will not be myself, nor have cognition + Of what I feel. I am all patience. + + Re-enter CRESSIDA + + THERSITES. Now the pledge; now, now, now! + CRESSIDA. Here, Diomed, keep this sleeve. + TROILUS. O beauty! where is thy faith? + ULYSSES. My lord! + TROILUS. I will be patient; outwardly I will. + CRESSIDA. You look upon that sleeve; behold it well. + He lov'd me-O false wench!-Give't me again. + DIOMEDES. Whose was't? + CRESSIDA. 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. + THERSITES. Now she sharpens. Well said, whetstone. + DIOMEDES. I shall have it. + CRESSIDA. What, this? + DIOMEDES. Ay, that. + CRESSIDA. 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. + DIOMEDES. I had your heart before; this follows it. + TROILUS. I did swear patience. + CRESSIDA. You shall not have it, Diomed; faith, you shall not; + I'll give you something else. + DIOMEDES. I will have this. Whose was it? + CRESSIDA. It is no matter. + DIOMEDES. Come, tell me whose it was. + CRESSIDA. 'Twas one's that lov'd me better than you will. + But, now you have it, take it. + DIOMEDES. Whose was it? + CRESSIDA. By all Diana's waiting women yond, + And by herself, I will not tell you whose. + DIOMEDES. To-morrow will I wear it on my helm, + And grieve his spirit that dares not challenge it. + TROILUS. Wert thou the devil and wor'st it on thy horn, + It should be challeng'd. + CRESSIDA. Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis past; and yet it is not; + I will not keep my word. + DIOMEDES. Why, then farewell; + Thou never shalt mock Diomed again. + CRESSIDA. You shall not go. One cannot speak a word + But it straight starts you. + DIOMEDES. I do not like this fooling. + THERSITES. Nor I, by Pluto; but that that likes not you + Pleases me best. + DIOMEDES. What, shall I come? The hour- + CRESSIDA. Ay, come-O Jove! Do come. I shall be plagu'd. + DIOMEDES. Farewell till then. + CRESSIDA. Good night. I prithee come. Exit DIOMEDES + Troilus, farewell! One eye yet looks on thee; + But with my heart the other eye doth see. + Ah, poor our sex! this fault in us I find, + The error of our eye directs our mind. + What error leads must err; O, then conclude, + Minds sway'd by eyes are full of turpitude. +Exit + THERSITES. A proof of strength she could not publish more, + Unless she said 'My mind is now turn'd whore.' + ULYSSES. All's done, my lord. + TROILUS. It is. + ULYSSES. Why stay we, then? + TROILUS. 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? + ULYSSES. I cannot conjure, Troyan. + TROILUS. She was not, sure. + ULYSSES. Most sure she was. + TROILUS. Why, my negation hath no taste of madness. + ULYSSES. Nor mine, my lord. Cressid was here but now. + TROILUS. 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. + ULYSSES. What hath she done, Prince, that can soil our mothers? + TROILUS. Nothing at all, unless that this were she. + THERSITES. Will 'a swagger himself out on's own eyes? + TROILUS. 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. + ULYSSES. May worthy Troilus be half-attach'd + With that which here his passion doth express? + TROILUS. 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. + THERSITES. He'll tickle it for his concupy. + TROILUS. O Cressid! O false Cressid! false, false, false! + Let all untruths stand by thy stained name, + And they'll seem glorious. + ULYSSES. O, contain yourself; + Your passion draws ears hither. + + Enter AENEAS + + AENEAS. I have been seeking you this hour, my lord. + Hector, by this, is arming him in Troy; + Ajax, your guard, stays to conduct you home. + TROILUS. Have with you, Prince. My courteous lord, adieu. + Fairwell, revolted fair!-and, Diomed, + Stand fast and wear a castle on thy head. + ULYSSES. I'll bring you to the gates. + TROILUS. Accept distracted thanks. + + Exeunt TROILUS, AENEAS. and ULYSSES + + THERSITES. 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 + + + + +ACT V. SCENE 3. +Troy. Before PRIAM'S palace + +Enter HECTOR and ANDROMACHE + + ANDROMACHE. When was my lord so much ungently temper'd + To stop his ears against admonishment? + Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to-day. + HECTOR. You train me to offend you; get you in. + By all the everlasting gods, I'll go. + ANDROMACHE. My dreams will, sure, prove ominous to the day. + HECTOR. No more, I say. + + Enter CASSANDRA + + CASSANDRA. Where is my brother Hector? + ANDROMACHE. 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. + CASSANDRA. O, 'tis true! + HECTOR. Ho! bid my trumpet sound. + CASSANDRA. No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet brother! + HECTOR. Be gone, I say. The gods have heard me swear. + CASSANDRA. The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows; + They are polluted off'rings, more abhorr'd + Than spotted livers in the sacrifice. + ANDROMACHE. 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. + CASSANDRA. It is the purpose that makes strong the vow; + But vows to every purpose must not hold. + Unarm, sweet Hector. + HECTOR. 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 TROILUS + + How now, young man! Mean'st thou to fight to-day? + ANDROMACHE. Cassandra, call my father to persuade. + Exit CASSANDRA + HECTOR. No, faith, young Troilus; 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. + TROILUS. Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you + Which better fits a lion than a man. + HECTOR. What vice is that, good Troilus? + Chide me for it. + TROILUS. When many times the captive Grecian falls, + Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword, + You bid them rise and live. + HECTOR. O, 'tis fair play! + TROILUS. Fool's play, by heaven, Hector. + HECTOR. How now! how now! + TROILUS. 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! + HECTOR. Fie, savage, fie! + TROILUS. Hector, then 'tis wars. + HECTOR. Troilus, I would not have you fight to-day. + TROILUS. 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 + + CASSANDRA. 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. + PRIAM. 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. + HECTOR. Aeneas is a-field; + And I do stand engag'd to many Greeks, + Even in the faith of valour, to appear + This morning to them. + PRIAM. Ay, but thou shalt not go. + HECTOR. 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. + CASSANDRA. O Priam, yield not to him! + ANDROMACHE. Do not, dear father. + HECTOR. Andromache, I am offended with you. + Upon the love you bear me, get you in. + Exit ANDROMACHE + TROILUS. This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl + Makes all these bodements. + CASSANDRA. 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! + TROILUS. Away, away! + CASSANDRA. Farewell!-yet, soft! Hector, I take my leave. + Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive. +Exit + HECTOR. 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. + PRIAM. Farewell. The gods with safety stand about thee! + Exeunt severally PRIAM and HECTOR. +Alarums + TROILUS. They are at it, hark! Proud Diomed, believe, + I come to lose my arm or win my sleeve. + + Enter PANDARUS + + PANDARUS. Do you hear, my lord? Do you hear? + TROILUS. What now? + PANDARUS. Here's a letter come from yond poor girl. + TROILUS. Let me read. + PANDARUS. 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? + TROILUS. 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 + + + + +ACT V. SCENE 4. +The plain between Troy and the Grecian camp + +Enter THERSITES. Excursions + + THERSITES. 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 Troyan 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, Ulysses -is not prov'd worth a + blackberry. They set me up, in policy, that mongrel cur, Ajax, + against that dog of as bad a kind, Achilles; and now is the cur, + Ajax 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, TROILUS following + + Soft! here comes sleeve, and t'other. + TROILUS. Fly not; for shouldst thou take the river Styx + I would swim after. + DIOMEDES. Thou dost miscall retire. + I do not fly; but advantageous care + Withdrew me from the odds of multitude. + Have at thee. + THERSITES. Hold thy whore, Grecian; now for thy whore, + Troyan-now the sleeve, now the sleeve! + Exeunt TROILUS and DIOMEDES fighting + + Enter HECTOR + + HECTOR. What art thou, Greek? Art thou for Hector's match? + Art thou of blood and honour? + THERSITES. No, no-I am a rascal; a scurvy railing knave; a very + filthy rogue. + HECTOR. I do believe thee. Live. +Exit + THERSITES. 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 + + + + +ACT V. SCENE 5. +Another part of the plain + +Enter DIOMEDES and A SERVANT + + DIOMEDES. Go, go, my servant, take thou Troilus' horse; + Present the fair steed to my lady Cressid. + Fellow, commend my service to her beauty; + Tell her I have chastis'd the amorous Troyan, + And am her knight by proof. + SERVANT. I go, my lord. +Exit + + Enter AGAMEMNON + + AGAMEMNON. 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 Ajax 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 ULYSSES + + ULYSSES. 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. Ajax hath lost a friend + And foams at mouth, and he is arm'd and at it, + Roaring for Troilus; 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 AJAX + + AJAX. Troilus! thou coward Troilus! +Exit + DIOMEDES. Ay, there, there. + NESTOR. So, so, we draw together. +Exit + Enter ACHILLES + + ACHILLES. 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 + + + + +ACT V. SCENE 6. +Another part of the plain + +Enter AJAX + + AJAX. Troilus, thou coward Troilus, show thy head. + + Enter DIOMEDES + + DIOMEDES. Troilus, I say! Where's Troilus? + AJAX. What wouldst thou? + DIOMEDES. I would correct him. + AJAX. Were I the general, thou shouldst have my office + Ere that correction. Troilus, I say! What, Troilus! + + Enter TROILUS + + TROILUS. O traitor Diomed! Turn thy false face, thou traitor, + And pay thy life thou owest me for my horse. + DIOMEDES. Ha! art thou there? + AJAX. I'll fight with him alone. Stand, Diomed. + DIOMEDES. He is my prize. I will not look upon. + TROILUS. Come, both, you cogging Greeks; have at you + Exeunt fighting + + Enter HECTOR + + HECTOR. Yea, Troilus? O, well fought, my youngest brother! + + Enter ACHILLES + + ACHILLES. Now do I see thee, ha! Have at thee, Hector! + HECTOR. Pause, if thou wilt. + ACHILLES. I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Troyan. + 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 + HECTOR. Fare thee well. + I would have been much more a fresher man, + Had I expected thee. + + Re-enter TROILUS + + How now, my brother! + TROILUS. Ajax hath ta'en Aeneas. 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 + + HECTOR. 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 + + + + +ACT V. SCENE 7. +Another part of the plain + +Enter ACHILLES, with Myrmidons + + ACHILLES. 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 + + THERSITES. 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 MARGARELON + + MARGARELON. Turn, slave, and fight. + THERSITES. What art thou? + MARGARELON. A bastard son of Priam's. + THERSITES. 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 + judgment. Farewell, bastard. + Exit + MARGARELON. The devil take thee, coward! +Exit + + + + +ACT V. SCENE 8. +Another part of the plain + +Enter HECTOR + + HECTOR. 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 + + ACHILLES. 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. + HECTOR. I am unarm'd; forego this vantage, Greek. + ACHILLES. 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. + MYRMIDON. The Troyan trumpets sound the like, my lord. + ACHILLES. 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 Troyan trail. +Exeunt + + + + +ACT V. SCENE 9. +Another part of the plain + +Sound retreat. Shout. Enter AGAMEMNON, AJAX, MENELAUS, NESTOR, +DIOMEDES, and the rest, marching + + AGAMEMNON. Hark! hark! what shout is this? + NESTOR. Peace, drums! + SOLDIERS. [Within] Achilles! Achilles! Hector's slain. Achilles! + DIOMEDES. The bruit is Hector's slain, and by Achilles. + AJAX. If it be so, yet bragless let it be; + Great Hector was as good a man as he. + AGAMEMNON. 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 + + + + +ACT V. SCENE 10. +Another part of the plain + +Enter AENEAS, PARIS, ANTENOR, and DEIPHOBUS + + AENEAS. Stand, ho! yet are we masters of the field. + Never go home; here starve we out the night. + + Enter TROILUS + + TROILUS. Hector is slain. + ALL. Hector! The gods forbid! + TROILUS. 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. + AENEAS. My lord, you do discomfort all the host. + TROILUS. 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 + + PANDARUS. But hear you, hear you! + TROILUS. Hence, broker-lackey. Ignominy and shame + Pursue thy life and live aye with thy name! + Exeunt all but PANDARUS + PANDARUS. 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. +Exit + +THE END + + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + + + +End of this Etext of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, The History of +Troilus and Cressida + |
