Troilus and Cressida

 

By

 

William Shakespeare

 


CONTENTS:

 

ACT I 3

PROLOGUE. 3

SCENE I. Troy. Before Priam's palace. 4

SCENE II. The Same. A street. 10

SCENE III. The Grecian camp. Before Agamemnon's tent. 26

ACT II 39

SCENE I. A part of the Grecian camp. 39

SCENE II. Troy. A room in Priam's palace. 48

SCENE III. The Grecian camp. Before Achilles' tent. 55

ACT III 68

SCENE I. Troy. Priam's palace. 68

SCENE II. The same. Pandarus' orchard. 77

SCENE III. The Grecian camp. Before Achilles' tent. 86

ACT IV.. 99

SCENE I. Troy. A street. 99

SCENE II. The same. Court of Pandarus' house. 103

SCENE III. The same. Street before Pandarus' house. 110

SCENE IV. The same. Pandarus' house. 111

SCENE V. The Grecian camp. Lists set out. 118

ACT V.. 133

SCENE I. The Grecian camp. Before Achilles' tent. 133

SCENE II. The same. Before Calchas' tent. 139

SCENE III. Troy. Before Priam's palace. 152

SCENE IV. Plains between Troy and the Grecian camp. 159

SCENE V. Another part of the plains. 161

SCENE VI. Another part of the plains. 164

SCENE VII. Another part of the plains. 167

SCENE VIII. Another part of the plains. 169

SCENE IX. Another part of the plains. 171

SCENE X. Another part of the plains. 172

 


ACT I

PROLOGUE

 

    In Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of Greece

    The princes orgulous, their high blood chafed,

    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 the 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 warlike 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, Trojan 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.

 


SCENE I. 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 Trojan 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 unpractised infancy.

 

PANDARUS

 

    Well, I have told you enough of this: for my part,

    I'll not meddle nor make no further. 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 sufferance than I do.

    At Priam's royal table do I sit;

    And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts,--

    So, traitor! 'When she comes!' When is she thence?

 

PANDARUS

 

    Well, she looked 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;'

    Pour'st 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't. 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 on Friday as Helen is on Sunday. But what care

    I? I care not an she were a black-a-moor; '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' the 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 PANDARUS. An 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 starved 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 wandering 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 gored 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

 


SCENE II. The Same. A street.

 

    Enter CRESSIDA and 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 moved:

    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 Trojan 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 robbed many beasts of their

    particular additions; he is as valiant as the lion,

    churlish as the bear, slow as the elephant: a man

    into whom nature hath so crowded humours that his

    valour is crushed 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 coped Hector in the battle and

    struck him down, the disdain and shame whereof hath

    ever since kept Hector fasting and waking.

 

CRESSIDA

 

    Who comes here?

 

ALEXANDER

 

    Madam, your uncle Pandarus.

 

    Enter 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

    armed and gone ere ye came to Ilium? Helen was not

    up, was she?

 

CRESSIDA

 

    Hector was gone, but Helen was not up.

 

PANDARUS

 

    Even 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 to-day, 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 praised his complexion above Paris.

 

CRESSIDA

 

    Why, Paris hath colour enough.

 

PANDARUS

 

    So he has.

 

CRESSIDA

 

    Then Troilus should have too much: if she praised

    him above, his complexion is higher than his; he

    having colour enough, and the other higher, is too

    flaming a 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 compassed 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' the shell.

 

PANDARUS

 

    I cannot choose but laugh, to think how she tickled

    his chin: indeed, she has a marvellous 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 laughed

    that her eyes ran o'er.

 

CRESSIDA

 

    With mill-stones.

 

PANDARUS

 

    And Cassandra laughed.

 

CRESSIDA

 

    But there was more temperate fire under the pot of

    her eyes: did her eyes run o'er too?

 

PANDARUS

 

    And Hector laughed.

 

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 laughed

    too.

 

PANDARUS

 

    They laughed 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 blushed, an Paris so chafed, and all the

    rest so laughed, that it passed.

 

CRESSIDA

 

    So let it now; for it has been 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, an 'twere

    a man born in April.

 

CRESSIDA

 

    And I'll spring up in his tears, an 'twere a nettle

    against May.

 

    A retreat sounded

 

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.

 

CRESSIDA

 

    Speak not so loud.

 

    AENEAS passes

 

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' the soundest

    judgments in 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! any thing, 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 hacked than Hector's, and how he looks,

    and how he goes! O admirable youth! he ne'er 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 come more.

 

    Forces pass

 

PANDARUS

 

    Asses, fools, dolts! chaff and bran, chaff and bran!

    porridge after meat! I could live and die i' 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 among 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 minced man: and then to be baked with no date

    in the pie, for then the man's date's out.

 

PANDARUS

 

    You are such a woman! one 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 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's 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'll be with you, niece, by and by.

 

CRESSIDA

 

    To bring, uncle?

 

PANDARUS

 

    Ay, a token from Troilus.

 

CRESSIDA

 

    By the same token, you are a bawd.

 

    Exit PANDARUS

    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 beloved 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.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE III. The Grecian camp. Before Agamemnon's tent.

 

    Sennet. Enter AGAMEMNON, NESTOR, ULYSSES, MENELAUS, and others

 

AGAMEMNON

 

    Princes,

    What grief hath set the jaundice on your cheeks?

    The ample proposition that hope makes

    In all designs begun on earth below

    Fails in the promised largeness: cheques and disasters

    Grow in the veins of actions highest rear'd,

    As knots, by the conflux of meeting sap,

    Infect the sound pine and divert 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 affined 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 roused with rage with rage doth sympathize,

    And with an accent tuned in selfsame 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 To 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 experienced 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,

    The 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 enthroned and sphered

    Amidst the other; whose medicinable eye

    Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil,

    And posts, like the commandment of a king,

    Sans cheque 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 fixure! O, when degree is shaked,

    Which is the ladder to all high designs,

    Then enterprise is sick! How could communities,

    Degrees in schools and brotherhoods in cities,

    Peaceful commerce from dividable shores,

    The primogenitive 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 meets

    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 every thing 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 every step,

    Exampled 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 unsquared,

    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 as 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, mappery, closet-war;

    So that the ram that batters down the wall,

    For the great swing 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.

 

    A 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 ears?

 

AGAMEMNON

 

    With surety stronger than Achilles' arm

    '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 Trojan 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, Trojan; lay thy finger on thy lips!

    The worthiness of praise distains his worth,

    If that the praised himself bring the praise forth:

    But what the repining enemy commends,

    That breath fame blows; that praise, sole sure,

    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 naught privately that comes from Troy.

 

AENEAS

 

    Nor I from Troy come not to whisper 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. Trojan, 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.

 

    Trumpet sounds

    We have, great Agamemnon, here in Troy

    A prince call'd Hector,--Priam is his father,--

    Who in this dull and long-continued truce

    Is rusty 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 Trojans 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 compass in his arms,

    And will to-morrow with his trumpet call

    Midway 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 host

    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 grandam 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 forbid such scarcity of youth!

 

ULYSSES

 

    Amen.

 

AGAMEMNON

 

    Fair Lord AEneas, let me touch your hand;

    To our pavilion shall I lead you, sir.

    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

 

    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

 

    Yes, 'tis most meet: whom may you else oppose,

    That can from Hector bring his honour off,

    If not Achilles? Though't be a sportful combat,

    Yet in the trial much opinion dwells;

    For here the Trojans taste our dear'st repute

    With their finest palate: and trust to me, Ulysses,

    Our imputation shall be oddly poised

    In this wild 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 mass

    Of things to come at large. It is supposed

    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 us all, a man distill'd

    Out of our virtues; who miscarrying,

    What heart receives from hence the 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. 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 share with him:

    But he already is too insolent;

    A nd we 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 did our main opinion crush

    In taint of our best man. No, make a lottery;

    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

 

    Ulysses,

    Now I begin to relish thy advice;

    And I will give a taste of it 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

 


ACT II

SCENE I. A part of the Grecian camp.

 

    Enter AJAX and THERSITES

 

AJAX

 

    Thersites!

 

THERSITES

 

    Agamemnon, how if he had boils? full, all 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 would come some matter from him; I see none now.

 

AJAX

 

    Thou bitch-wolf's son, canst thou not hear?

 

    Beating him

    Feel, then.

 

THERSITES

 

    The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel

    beef-witted lord!

 

AJAX

 

    Speak then, thou vinewedst 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 proclaimed 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 Proserpine's beauty, ay, that thou

    barkest at him.

 

AJAX

 

    Mistress Thersites!

 

THERSITES

 

    Thou shouldest strike him.

 

AJAX

 

    Cobloaf!

 

THERSITES

 

    He would pun thee into shivers with his fist, as a

    sailor breaks a biscuit.

 

AJAX

 

    [Beating him] You whoreson cur!

 

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 assinego

    may tutor thee: thou scurvy-valiant ass! thou art

    here but to thrash Trojans; 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

 

    [Beating him] You cur!

 

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, I do so.

 

THERSITES

 

    But yet you look not well upon him; for whosoever 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 bobbed 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 nineth 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 beat 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; for a fools will shame it.

 

PATROCLUS

 

    Good words, Thersites.

 

ACHILLES

 

    What's the quarrel?

 

AJAX

 

    I bade the vile owl go learn me the tenor of the

    proclamation, and he rails upon me.

 

THERSITES

 

    I serve thee not.

 

AJAX

 

    Well, go to, go to.

 

THERSITES

 

    I serve here voluntarily.

 

ACHILLES

 

    Your last service was sufferance, '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 have a great

    catch, if 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 hanged, 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 lottery; otherwise

    He knew his man.

 

AJAX

 

    O, meaning you. I will go learn more of it.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE II. Troy. A room in 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 consumed

    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 the 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 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 holding.

 

TROILUS

 

    What is 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

    And the will dotes that is attributive

    To what infectiously itself affects,

    Without some image of the 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 of full consent bellied his sails;

    The seas and winds, old wranglers, took a truce

    And did him service: he touch'd the ports desired,

    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 noble 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 fortune never did,

    Beggar the estimation which you prized

    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, Trojans, cry!

 

PRIAM

 

    What noise? what shriek is this?

 

TROILUS

 

    'Tis our mad sister, I do know her voice.

 

CASSANDRA

 

    [Within] Cry, Trojans!

 

HECTOR

 

    It is Cassandra.

 

    Enter CASSANDRA, raving

 

CASSANDRA

 

    Cry, Trojans, 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, Trojans, cry! practise your eyes with tears!

    Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand;

    Our firebrand brother, Paris, burns us all.

    Cry, Trojans, 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 engaged

    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 off

    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

    Wiped 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 unfamed

    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 glozed, but superficially: not much

    Unlike young men, whom Aristotle thought

    Unfit to hear moral philosophy:

    The reasons you allege do more conduce

    To the hot passion of distemper'd 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 render'd 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'ertheless,

    My spritely brethren, I propend to you

    In resolution to keep Helen still,

    For 'tis a cause that hath no mean dependance

    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 Trojan 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 promised 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 dun and factious nobles of the Greeks

    Will strike amazement to their drowsy spirits:

    I was advertised their great general slept,

    Whilst emulation in the army crept:

    This, I presume, will wake him.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE III. The Grecian camp. Before Achilles' tent.

 

    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 railed 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 enginer! 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-armed 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 bone-ache! for that,

    methinks, is the curse dependent 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 have remembered a gilt counterfeit, thou

    wouldst not have slipped 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!

 

    Enter ACHILLES

 

ACHILLES

 

    Who's there?

 

PATROCLUS

 

    Thersites, my lord.

 

ACHILLES

 

    Where, 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 thyself?

 

THERSITES

 

    Thy knower, Patroclus: then tell me, Patroclus,

    what art thou?

 

PATROCLUS

 

    Thou mayst 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 privileged 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

    Patroclus is a fool positive.

 

PATROCLUS

 

    Why am I a fool?

 

THERSITES

 

    Make that demand of the prover. It suffices me thou

    art. Look you, who comes here?

 

ACHILLES

 

    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 cuckold and a

    whore; 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, and AJAX

 

AGAMEMNON

 

    Where is Achilles?

 

PATROCLUS

 

    Within his tent; but ill disposed, my lord.

 

AGAMEMNON

 

    Let it be known to him that we are here.

    He shent our messengers; and we lay by

    Our appertainments, 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 the

    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. Here comes Patroclus.

 

    Re-enter 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,

    And 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 add,

    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.

 

AJAX

 

    I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendering of toads.

 

NESTOR

 

    Yet he loves himself: is't not strange?

 

    Aside

 

    Re-enter ULYSSES

 

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: imagined worth

    Holds in his blood such swoln 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 do 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

    Must not so stale his palm, nobly acquired;

    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 to DIOMEDES] O, this is well; he rubs the

    vein of him.

 

DIOMEDES

 

    [Aside to NESTOR] 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

 

    How he describes himself!

 

AJAX

 

    Can he not be sociable?

 

ULYSSES

 

    The raven chides blackness.

 

AJAX

 

    I'll let his humours blood.

 

AGAMEMNON

 

    He will be the physician that should be the patient.

 

AJAX

 

    An all men were o' my mind,--

 

ULYSSES

 

    Wit would be out of fashion.

 

AJAX

 

    A' should not bear it so, a' should eat swords first:

    shall pride carry it?

 

NESTOR

 

    An 'twould, you'ld carry half.

 

ULYSSES

 

    A' would have ten shares.

 

AJAX

 

    I will knead him; I'll make him supple.

 

NESTOR

 

    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 pelter thus with us!

    Would he were a Trojan!

 

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 got thee, she that gave thee suck:

    Famed be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature

    Thrice famed, beyond all erudition:

    But he that disciplined thy 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:

    Put 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 ruled 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

 


ACT III

SCENE I. Troy. Priam's palace.

 

    Enter a Servant and PANDARUS

 

PANDARUS

 

    Friend, you! pray you, a word: do not you 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 noble 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.

 

    Music within

    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's 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 you not 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 stewed 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. Nell, 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, to go:--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 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. 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 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 more!

    For, O, love's bow

    Shoots buck and doe:

    The shaft confounds,

    Not that it wounds,

    But tickles still the sore.

    These lovers cry Oh! oh! they die!

    Yet that which seems the wound to kill,

    Doth turn oh! oh! to ha! ha! he!

    So dying love lives still:

    Oh! oh! a while, but ha! ha! ha!

    Oh! oh! groans out for ha! ha! ha!

    Heigh-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 to-day?

 

PARIS

 

    Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the

    gallantry of Troy: I would fain have armed 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

    sped 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

 

    A retreat sounded

 

PARIS

 

    They're come from 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

 


SCENE II. The same. Pandarus' orchard.

 

    Enter PANDARUS and Troilus's 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.

 

PANDARUS

 

    O, here he comes.

 

    Enter TROILUS

    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 those fields

    Where I may wallow in the lily-beds

    Proposed for the deserver! O gentle Pandarus,

    From Cupid's shoulder pluck his painted wings

    And fly with me to Cressid!

 

PANDARUS

 

    Walk here i' the orchard, I'll bring her straight.

 

    Exit

 

TROILUS

 

    I am giddy; expectation whirls me round.

    The imaginary relish is so sweet

    That it enchants my sense: what will it be,

    When that the watery palate tastes indeed

    Love's thrice repured nectar? death, I fear me,

    Swooning destruction, or some joy too fine,

    Too subtle-potent, tuned 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 frayed 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 encountering

    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 watched ere you be made tame, must you?

    Come your ways, come your ways; an you draw backward,

    we'll put you i' the 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'ld 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' the 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' the 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 Cressida, how often have I wished me thus!

 

CRESSIDA

 

    Wished, 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 confined, 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 loved 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 not, till now, 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 loved 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 ashamed. 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 ramp 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 winnow'd 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 truths by Troilus: when their rhymes,

    Full of protest, of oath and big compare,

    Want similes, truth tired 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 the 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 they've said 'as false

    As air, as water, wind, or sandy earth,

    As fox to lamb, as 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 called 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 with 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, Pandar to provide this gear!

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE III. The Grecian camp. Before Achilles' tent.

 

    Enter AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, DIOMEDES, NESTOR, AJAX, MENELAUS, and CALCHAS

 

CALCHAS

 

    Now, princes, for the service I have done you,

    The 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 love,

    I have abandon'd Troy, left my possession,

    Incurr'd a traitor's name; exposed myself,

    From certain and possess'd conveniences,

    To doubtful fortunes; sequestering 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 register'd in promise,

    Which, you say, live to come in my behalf.

 

AGAMEMNON

 

    What wouldst thou of us, Trojan? make demand.

 

CALCHAS

 

    You have a Trojan prisoner, call'd Antenor,

    Yesterday took: Troy holds him very dear.

    Oft have you--often have you thanks therefore--

    Desired 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

 

    Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS, before their tent

 

ULYSSES

 

    Achilles stands i' the entrance of his tent:

    Please it our general to 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 on him:

    If so, I have derision medicinable,

    To use between your strangeness and his pride,

    Which his own will shall have desire to drink:

    It may be 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 used to bend

    To send their smiles before them to Achilles;

    To come as humbly as they used 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 declined 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, 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,

    Do 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 any thing,

    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 form'd in the applause

    Where they're extended; who, like an arch,

    reverberates

    The voice again, or, like a gate of steel

    Fronting the sun, receives and renders back

    His figure and his heat. I was much wrapt in this;

    And apprehended here immediately

    The 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 shrieking.

 

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-sized 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 mockery. 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 enter'd 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 the hand,

    And with his arms outstretch'd, as he would fly,

    Grasps in the comer: 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 not stirs. 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 the uncomprehensive deeps,

    Keeps place with thought and almost, like the gods,

    Does 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 islands 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 moved you:

    A woman impudent and mannish grown

    Is not more loathed 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 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 gored.

 

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 we sit idly in the sun.

 

ACHILLES

 

    Go call Thersites hither, sweet Patroclus:

    I'll send the fool to Ajax and desire him

    To invite the Trojan 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 saved!

 

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, he stalks up and down like a peacock,--a stride

    and a stand: ruminates 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 forever; for if Hector break not his

    neck i' the combat, he'll break 't himself in

    vain-glory. 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, language-less, a monster.

    A plague of opinion! a man may wear it on both

    sides, like a 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 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 unarmed to my tent, and to procure

    safe-conduct for his person of the magnanimous

    and most illustrious six-or-seven-times-honoured

    captain-general of the Grecian army, Agamemnon,

    et cetera. 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 say you to't?

 

THERSITES

 

    God b' wi' you, with all my heart.

 

PATROCLUS

 

    Your answer, sir.

 

THERSITES

 

    If to-morrow be a fair day, by eleven o'clock it will

    go one way or other: howsoever, he shall pay for me

    ere he has me.

 

PATROCLUS

 

    Your answer, sir.

 

THERSITES

 

    Fare you well, with all my heart.

 

ACHILLES

 

    Why, but he is not in this tune, is he?

 

THERSITES

 

    No, but he's out o' tune thus. What music will be in

    him when Hector has knocked 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 bear 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

 


ACT IV

SCENE I. Troy. A street.

 

    Enter, from one side, AENEAS, and Servant with a torch; from the other, PARIS, DEIPHOBUS, ANTENOR, DIOMEDES, 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 sympathize: 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 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 do think--

    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, merits 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 pleased to breed out your inheritors:

    Both merits poised, each weighs nor less nor more;

    But he as he, the heavier for a whore.

 

PARIS

 

    You are too bitter to your countrywoman.

 

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 Trojan hath been slain: since she could speak,

    She hath not given so many good words breath

    As for her Greeks and Trojans suffer'd 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 but commend what we intend to sell.

    Here lies our way.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE II. The same. 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 a-weary of me?

 

TROILUS

 

    O Cressida! but that the busy day,

    Waked by the lark, hath roused 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.

 

CRESSIDA

 

    A pestilence on him! now will he be mocking:

    I shall have such a life!

 

    Enter PANDARUS

 

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! ah, 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' the head!

 

    Knocking within

    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 deceived, I think of no such thing.

 

    Knocking within

    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? 'tis 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're 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 nature

    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

 

    Prithee, 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! beseech you,

    what's the matter?

 

PANDARUS

 

    Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone; thou

    art changed 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

 


SCENE III. The same. Street before Pandarus' house.

 

    Enter PARIS, TROILUS, AENEAS, DEIPHOBUS, ANTENOR, and DIOMEDES

 

PARIS

 

    It is great morning, and the hour prefix'd

    Of 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 offering 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

 


SCENE IV. The same. 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 affection,

    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.

 

PANDARUS

 

    Here, here, here he comes.

 

    Enter TROILUS

    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, 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 it 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 lose 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 the root.

 

    Exit

 

CRESSIDA

 

    I must then to the Grecians?

 

TROILUS

 

    No remedy.

 

CRESSIDA

 

    A woful 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 exposed, 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 while I speak it, love:

    The Grecian youths are full of quality;

    They're loving, well composed with gifts of nature,

    Flowing and swelling o'er with arts and exercise:

    How novelty may move, and parts with person,

    Alas, a kind of godly jealousy--

    Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin--

    Makes me 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.

    Fear not my truth: the moral of my wit

    Is 'plain and true;' there's all the reach of it.

 

    Enter AENEAS, PARIS, ANTENOR, DEIPHOBUS, and DIOMEDES

    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 Cressida 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 thee

    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 moved, Prince Troilus:

    Let me be privileged 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 prized; but that you say 'be't so,'

    I'll 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

 

    Trumpet within

 

PARIS

 

    Hark! Hector's trumpet.

 

AENEAS

 

    How have we spent this morning!

    The prince must think me tardy and remiss,

    That sore 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

 


SCENE V. 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

    Outswell the colic of puff'd Aquilon:

    Come, stretch thy chest and let thy eyes spout blood;

    Thou blow'st for Hector.

 

    Trumpet sounds

 

ULYSSES

 

    No trumpet answers.

 

ACHILLES

 

    'Tis but early days.

 

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.

 

    Enter DIOMEDES, with CRESSIDA

 

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 what 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 this 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:

    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're 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' the 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 encounterers, so glib of tongue,

    That give accosting 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 Trojans' trumpet.

 

AGAMEMNON

 

    Yonder comes the troop.

 

    Enter HECTOR, armed; AENEAS, TROILUS, and other Trojans, with Attendants

 

AENEAS

 

    Hail, all you 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 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 opposed.

 

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 Trojan 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 opposed already.

 

AGAMEMNON

 

    What Trojan 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 provoked nor being provoked 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 impure 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 disposed: there, Ajax!

 

DIOMEDES

 

    You must no more.

 

    Trumpets cease

 

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 Trojan so

    That thou couldst say 'This hand is Grecian all,

    And this is Trojan; 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 drain'd! 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 Trojan part;

    Desire them home. Give me thy hand, my cousin;

    I will go eat with thee and see your knights.

 

AJAX

 

    Great Agamemnon comes to meet us here.

 

HECTOR

 

    The worthiest of them tell me name by name;

    But for Achilles, mine own searching eyes

    Shall find him by his large and portly size.

 

AGAMEMNON

 

    Worthy of 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-famed 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 Trojan, 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' the 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 saw like thee. 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'ld 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 Trojan 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 perused 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 every where, 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 refused

    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 tabourines, let the trumpets blow,

    That this great soldier may his welcome know.

 

    Exeunt all except 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 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 beloved, she loved; she is, and doth:

    But still sweet love is food for fortune's tooth.

 

    Exeunt

 


ACT V

SCENE I. The Grecian camp. Before Achilles' tent.

 

    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 need these tricks?

 

THERSITES

 

    Prithee, be silent, boy; I profit not by thy talk:

    thou art thought 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 i' the back, lethargies, cold

    palsies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten livers, wheezing

    lungs, bladders full of imposthume, sciaticas,

    limekilns i' the 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 sleave-silk, thou green sarcenet

    flap for a sore eye, thou tassel of a prodigal's

    purse, thou? Ah, how the poor world is pestered

    with such waterflies, 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!

 

    Exeunt ACHILLES and PATROCLUS

 

THERSITES

 

    With too much blood and too little brain, these two

    may run mad; but, if with too much brain and too

    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

    earwax: 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 puttock, 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!

    spirits 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.

 

ULYSSES

 

    Here comes himself to guide you.

 

    Re-enter ACHILLES

 

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 ACHILLES, HECTOR, AJAX, and NESTOR

 

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 Trojan

    drab, and uses the traitor Calchas' tent: I'll

    after. Nothing but lechery! all incontinent varlets!

 

    Exit

 


SCENE II. The same. Before Calchas' tent.

 

    Enter DIOMEDES

 

DIOMEDES

 

    What, are you up here, ho? speak.

 

CALCHAS

 

    [Within] Who calls?

 

DIOMEDES

 

    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 should 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

 

    Foh, foh! come, tell a pin: you are 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 any thing but that, sweet Greek.

 

DIOMEDES

 

    Good night.

 

TROILUS

 

    Hold, patience!

 

ULYSSES

 

    How now, Trojan!

 

CRESSIDA

 

    Diomed,--

 

DIOMEDES

 

    No, no, good night: I'll be your fool no more.

 

TROILUS

 

    Thy better must.

 

CRESSIDA

 

    Hark, one word in your ear.

 

TROILUS

 

    O plague and madness!

 

ULYSSES

 

    You are moved, prince; let us depart, I pray you,

    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 pray thee, 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 wither'd truth!

 

ULYSSES

 

    Why, how now, lord!

 

TROILUS

 

    By Jove,

    I will be patient.

 

CRESSIDA

 

    Guardian!--why, Greek!

 

DIOMEDES

 

    Foh, foh! 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, la; 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, sweet 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 loved me--O false wench!--Give't me again.

 

DIOMEDES

 

    Whose was't?

 

CRESSIDA

 

    It is no matter, now I have'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 in 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 loved 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 worest it on thy horn,

    It should be challenged.

 

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 plagued.

 

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 co-act,

    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 the attest of eyes and ears,

    As if those organs had deceptious functions,

    Created only to calumniate.

    Was Cressid here?

 

ULYSSES

 

    I cannot conjure, Trojan.

 

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 believed 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 he 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 gods' delight,

    If there be rule in unity itself,

    This is not she. O madness of discourse,

    That cause sets up with and against itself!

    Bi-fold 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, dissolved, and loosed;

    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

    Inflamed 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 composed by Vulcan's skill,

    My sword should bite it: not the dreadful spout

    Which shipmen do the hurricano call,

    Constringed 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.

    Farewell, 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 any thing 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

 


SCENE III. 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 dream'd

    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 offerings, 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:

    Lie every man holds dear; but the brave 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' the 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 the love of all the gods,

    Let's leave the hermit pity with our mothers,

    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

    Beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire;

    Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees,

    Their eyes o'ergalled with recourse of tears;

    Not you, my brother, with your true sword drawn,

    Opposed 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 dream'd; 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 engaged 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! take my leave:

    Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive.

 

    Exit

 

HECTOR

 

    You are amazed, 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' these days: and I have a rheum

    in mine eyes too, and such an ache in my bones

    that, unless a man were cursed, I cannot tell what

    to think on't. What says she there?

 

TROILUS

 

    Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart:

    The 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

 


SCENE IV. Plains between Troy and the Grecian camp.

 

    Alarums: excursions. Enter THERSITES

 

THERSITES

 

    Now they are clapper-clawing one another; I'll go

    look on. That dissembling abominable varlets 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 Trojan ass, that

    loves the whore there, might send that Greekish

    whore-masterly villain, with the sleeve, back to the

    dissembling luxurious drab, of a sleeveless errand.

    O' the 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 proved worthy 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.

    Soft! here comes sleeve, and t'other.

 

    Enter DIOMEDES, TROILUS following

 

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,

    Trojan!--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 frightening 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

 


SCENE V. Another part of the plains.

 

    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 chastised the amorous Trojan,

    And am her knight by proof.

 

Servant

 

    I go, my lord.

 

    Exit

 

    Enter AGAMEMNON

 

AGAMEMNON

 

    Renew, renew! The fierce Polydamas

    Hath beat down Menon: bastard Margarelon

    Hath Doreus prisoner,

    And stands colossus-wise, waving his beam,

    Upon the pashed corses of the kings

    Epistrophus and Cedius: Polyxenes is slain,

    Amphimachus and Thoas deadly hurt,

    Patroclus ta'en or slain, and Palamedes

    Sore hurt and bruised: 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-paced 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 every where, 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, princes! great Achilles

    Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance:

    Patroclus' wounds have roused 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.

 

    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

 


SCENE VI. Another part of the plains.

 

    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 both!

 

    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 Trojan:

    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. How now, my brother!

 

    Re-enter TROILUS

 

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 I end my life to-day.

 

    Exit

 

    Enter one in sumptuous 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

 


SCENE VII. Another part of the plains.

 

    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 aims.

    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-

    henned sparrow! '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 every thing 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

 


SCENE VIII. Another part of the plains.

 

    Enter HECTOR

 

HECTOR

 

    Most putrefied 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.

 

    Puts off his helmet and hangs his shield behind him

 

    Enter ACHILLES and Myrmidons

 

ACHILLES

 

    Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set;

    How ugly night comes breathing at his heels:

    Even with the vail and darking 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! now, Troy, sink down!

    Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone.

    On, Myrmidons, and cry you all amain,

    'Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.'

 

    A retreat sounded

    Hark! a retire upon our Grecian part.

 

MYRMIDONS

 

    The Trojan 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,

    Pleased 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 Trojan trail.

 

    Exeunt

 


SCENE IX. Another part of the plains.

 

    Enter AGAMEMNON, AJAX, MENELAUS, NESTOR, DIOMEDES, and others, marching. Shouts within

 

AGAMEMNON

 

    Hark! hark! what shout is that?

 

NESTOR

 

    Peace, drums!

 

    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 a man as good 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, marching

 


SCENE X. Another part of the plains.

 

    Enter AENEAS and Trojans

 

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-sized 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.

 

    Exeunt AENEAS and Trojans

 

    As TROILUS is going out, enter, from the other side, PANDARUS

 

PANDARUS

 

    But hear you, hear you!

 

TROILUS

 

    Hence, broker-lackey! ignomy and shame

    Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name!

 

    Exit

 

PANDARUS

 

    A goodly medicine for my aching bones! O world!

    world! world! thus is the poor agent despised!

    O traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you set

    a-work, and how ill requited! why should our

    endeavour be so loved 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 subdued in armed tail,

    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 bequeathe you my diseases.

 

    Exit

 

 

THE END