Introductory matter
PRELIMINARY REMARKS.
The story was originally written by Lollius, an old Lombard
author, and since by Chaucer.
Pope.
Mr. Pope (after Dryden) informs us, that the story of Troilus
and Cressida was originally the work of one Lollius, a Lombard;
(of whom Gascoigne speaks in Dan Bartholmewe his first
Triumph: “Since Lollius and Chaucer both, make doubt upon
that glose,”) but Dryden goes yet further. He declares it to
have been written in Latin verse, and that Chaucer translated it.
Lollius was a historiographer of Urbino in Italy. Shakspeare received
the greatest part of his materials for the structure of
this play from the Troye Boke of Lydgate. Lydgate was not
much more than a translator of Guido of Columpna, who was of
Messina in Sicily, and wrote his History of Troy in Latin, after
Dictys Cretensis, and Dares Phrygius, in 1287. On these, as
Mr. Warton observes, he engrafted many new romantick inventions,
which the taste of his age dictated, and which the connection
between Grecian and Gothick fiction easily admitted; at
the same time comprehending in his plan the Theban and Argonautic
stories from Ovid, Statius, and Valerius Flaccus. Guido's
work was published at Cologne in 1477, again 1480: at Strasburgh,
1486, and ibidem, 1489. It appears to have been translated
by Raoul le Feure, at Cologne, into French, from whom
Caxton rendered it into English in 1471, under the title of his
Recuyel, &c. so that there must have been yet some earlier edition
of Guido's performance than I have hitherto seen or heard of,
unless his first translator is referred to as a manuscript.
Guido of Columpna is referred to as an authority by our own
chronicler Grafton. Chaucer had made the loves of Troilus and
Cressida famous, which very probably might have been Shakspeare's
inducement to try their fortune on the stage.—Lydgate's
Troye Book was printed by Pynson, 1513. In the books of the
Stationers' Company, anno 1581, is entered “A proper ballad,
dialogue-wise, between Troilus and Cressida.” Again, Feb. 7,
1602: “The booke of Troilus and Cressida, as it is acted by my
Lo. Chamberlain's men.” The first of these entries is in the
name of Edward White, the second in that of M. Roberts. Again,
Jan. 28, 1608, entered by Rich. Bonian and Hen. Whalley, “A
booke called the history of Troilus and Cressida.”
Steevens.
-- 218 --
The entry in 1608–9 was made by the booksellers for whom this
play was published in 1609. It was written, I conceive, in 1602.
See An Attempt to Ascertain the Order of Shakspeare's Plays,
vol. ii.
Malone.
Before this play of Troilus and Cressida, printed in 1609, is
a bookseller's preface, showing that first impression to have been
before the play had been acted, and that it was published without
Shakspeare's knowledge, from a copy that had fallen into the
bookseller's hands. Mr. Dryden thinks this one of the first of
our author's plays: but, on the contrary, it may be judged, from
the fore-mentioned preface, that it was one of his last; and the
great number of observations, both moral and politick, with which
this piece is crouded more than any other of his, seems to confirm
my opinion.
Pope.
We may learn, from this preface, that the original proprietors
of Shakspeare's plays thought it their interest to keep them unprinted.
The author of it adds, at the conclusion, these words:
“Thank fortune for the 'scape it hath made among you, since, by
the grand possessors wills, I believe you should rather have
prayed for them, than have been prayed,” &c. By the grand possessors,
I suppose, were meant Heming and Condell. It appears that
the rival play-houses at that time made frequent depredations on
one another's copies. In the Induction to The Malcontent, written
by Webster, and augmented by Marston, 1606, is the following
passage:
“I wonder you would play it, another company having interest
in it.”
“Why not Malevole in folio with us, as Jeronimo in decimo
sexto with them? They taught us a name for our play; we call it
One For Another.”
Again, T. Heywood, in his Preface to The English Traveller,
1633: “Others of them are still retained in the hands of some
actors, who think it against their peculiar profit to have them
come in print.”
Steevens.
It appears, however, that frauds were practised by writers as
well as actors. It stands on record against Robert Greene, the
author of Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay, and Orlando Furioso,
1594 and 1599, that he sold the last of these pieces to two different
theatres: “Master R. G. would it not make you blush, &c.
if you sold not Orlando Furioso to the Queen's players for twenty
nobles, and when they were in the country, sold the same play to
the Lord Admiral's men for as much more? Was not this plain
Coneycatching, M. G.?” Defence of Coneycatching, 1592.
This note was not merely inserted to expose the craft of authorship,
but to show the price which was anciently paid for the
copy of a play, and to ascertain the name of the writer of Orlando
Furioso, which was not hitherto known. Greene appears to have
-- 219 --
been the first poet in England who sold the same piece to different
people. Voltaire is much belied, if he has not followed his example.
Collins.
Notwithstanding what has been said by a late editor, [Mr.
Capell,] I have a copy of the first folio, including Troilus and
Cressida. Indeed, as I have just now observed, it was at first
either unknown or forgotten. It does not however appear in the
list of the plays, and is thrust in between the histories and the
tragedies without any enumeration of the pages; except, I think,
on one leaf only. It differs entirely from the copy in the second
folio.
Farmer.
I have consulted at least twenty copies of the first folio, and
Troilus and Cressida is not wanting in any of them.
Steevens.
-- 221 --
PREFACE TO THE QUARTO EDITION OF THIS PLAY, 1609.
A never Writer to an ever Reader. Newes.
Eternall reader, you have heere a new play, never stal'd with
the stage, never clapper-claw'd with the palmes of the vulger, and
yet passing full of the palme comicall; for it is a birth of your
(r. that] braine, that never under-tooke any thing commicall,
vainely: and were but the vaine names of commedies changde for the
titles of commodities, or of playes for pleas; you should see all
those grand censors, that now stile them such vanities, flock to
them for the maine grace of their gravities: especially this authors
commedies, that are so fram'd to the life, that they serve for the most
common commentaries of all the actions of our lives, shewing such
a dexteritie and power of witte, that the most displeased with
playes, are pleasd with his commedies. And all such dull and
heavy-witted worldlings, as were never capable of the witte of a
commedie, comming by report of them to his representations, have
found that witte there, that they never found in them-selves, and
have parted better-wittied then they came: feeling an edge of
witte set upon them, more then ever they dreamd they had braine
to grind it on. So much and such savored salt of witte is in his
commedies, that they seeme (for their height of pleasure) to be
borne in that sea that brought forth Venus. Amongst all there is
none more witty than this: and had I time I would comment upon
it, though I know it needs not, (for so much as will make you
thinke your testerne well bestowd) but for so much worth, as even
poore I know to be stuft in it. It deserves such a labour, as well
as the best commedy in Terence or Plautus. And beleeve this,
that when hee is gone, and his commedies out of sale, you will
scramble for them, and set up a new English inquisition. Take
this for a warning, and at the perill of your pleasures losse, and
judgements, refuse not, nor like this the lesse, for not being sullied
with the smoaky breath of the multitude; but thanke fortune
for the scape it hath made amongst you: since by the grand possessors
wills I believe you should have prayd for them [r. it] rather
then beene prayd. And so I leave all such to bee prayd for
(for the states of their wits healths) that will not praise it. Vale.
-- --
PERSONS REPRESENTED
Priam, King of Troy:
Hector, Priam's Son.
Troilus, Priam's Son.
Paris, Priam's Son.
Deiphobus, Priam's Son.
Helenus, Priam's Son.
Æneas [Aeneas], Trojan Commander.
Antenor, Trojan Commander.
Calchas, a Trojan Priest, taking part with the Greeks,
Pandarus, Uncle to Cressida.
Margarelon, a Bastard Son of Priam.
Agamemnon, the Grecian General:
Menelaus, his Brother.
Achilles, Grecian Commander.
Ajax, Grecian Commander.
Ulysses, Grecian Commander.
Nestor, Grecian Commander.
Diomedes, Grecian Commander.
Patroclus, Grecian Commander.
Thersites, a deformed and scurrilous Grecian.
Alexander, Servant to Cressida.
Servant to Troilus [Servant 1];
Servant to Paris [Servant 2];
Servant to Diomedes [Servant 3].
Helen, Wife to Menelaus.
Andromache, Wife to Hector.
Cassandra, Daughter to Priam; a Prophetess.
Cressida, Daughter to Calchas.
Trojan and Greek Soldiers, and Attendants.
[Boy]
SCENE, Troy, and the Grecian camp before it.
TROILUS AND CRESSIDA.
1 note
PROLOGUE.
In Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of
Greece
The princes orgulous2 note
, their high blood chaf'd,
-- 224 --
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 city3 note,
Dardan, and Tymbria, Ilias, Chetas, Trojan,
And Antenorides, with massy staples,
And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts4 note
,
Sperr up the sons of Troy5 note
.
-- 225 --
Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits,
On one and other side, Trojan and Greek,
-- 226 --
Sets all on hazard:—And hither am I come
A prologue arm'd6 note
,—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 vaunt7 note
and firstlings8 note of those broils,
-- 227 --
'Ginning 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.
-- 231 --
ACT I.
SCENE I.
Troy. Before Priam's Palace.
Enter Troilus armed, and Pandarus.
Tro.
Call here my varlet5 note
; 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.
Pan.
Will this geer ne'er be mended2 note
?
Tro.
The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their strength3 note,
Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant;
-- 230 --
But I am weaker than a woman's tear,
Tamer than sleep, fonder4 note than ignorance;
Less valiant than the virgin in the night,
And skill-less5 note as unpractis'd infancy.
Pan.
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 tarry
the grinding.
Tro.
Have I not tarried?
Pan.
Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the
bolting.
Tro.
Have I not tarried?
Pan.
Ay, the bolting; but you must tarry the
leavening.
Tro.
Still have I tarried.
Pan.
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.
Tro.
Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be,
Doth lesser blench6 note
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 thence7 note?
-- 231 --
Pan.
Well, she looked yesternight fairer than
ever I saw her look, or any woman else.
Tro.
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 storm8 note
,)
Bury'd this sigh in wrinkle of a smile9 note
;
But sorrow, that is couch'd in seeming gladness,
Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness.
Pan.
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—
Tro.
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 hand1 note
,
-- 232 --
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 ploughman2 note
! This thou tell'st me,
-- 233 --
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.
Pan.
I speak no more than truth.
Tro.
Thou dost not speak so much.
Pan.
'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 hands3 note
.
Tro.
Good Pandarus! How now, Pandarus?
Pan.
I have had my labour for my travel; ill-thought
on of her, and ill-thought on of you: gone
between and between, but small thanks for my
labour.
-- 234 --
Tro.
What, art thou angry, Pandarus? what, with me?
Pan.
Because she is 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.
Tro.
Say I, she is not fair?
Pan.
I do not care whether you do or no. She's
a fool to stay behind her father4 note; 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 in the
matter.
Tro.
Pandarus,—
Pan.
Not I.
Tro.
Sweet Pandarus,—
Pan.
Pray you, speak no more to me; I will
leave all as I found it, and there an end.
[Exit Pandarus. An Alarum.
Tro.
Peace, you ungracious clamours! peace, rude sounds!
Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair,
When with your blood you daily paint her thus.
I cannot fight upon this argument;
It is too starv'd a subject for my sword.
But Pandarus—O gods, how do you plague me!
-- 235 --
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 Ilium5 note
, 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.6 note
Alarum. Enter Æneas.
Æne.
How now, prince Troilus? wherefore not afield7 note
?
Tro.
Because not there; This woman's answer sorts8 note
,
For womanish it is to be from thence.
-- 236 --
What news, Æneas, from the field to-day?
Æne.
That Paris is returned home, and hurt.
Tro.
By whom, Æneas?
Æne.
Troilus, by Menelaus.
Tro.
Let Paris bleed: 'tis but a scar to scorn;
Paris is gor'd with Menelaus' horn.
[Alarum.
Æne.
Hark! what good sport is out of town today!
Tro.
Better at home, if would I might, were may.—
But, to the sport abroad;—Are you bound thither?
Æne.
In all swift haste.
Tro.
Come, go we then together.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
The Same. A Street.
Enter Cressida and Alexander.
Cres.
Who were those went by?
Alex.
Queen Hecuba, and Helen.
Cres.
And whither go they?
Alex.
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'd9 note
, to-day was mov'd:
-- 237 --
He chid Andromache, and struck his armourer;
And, like as there were husbandry in war1 note
,
Before the sun rose, he was harness'd light2 note
,
And to the field goes he; where every flower
-- 238 --
Did, as a prophet, weep3 note
what it foresaw
In Hector's wrath.
-- 239 --
Cres.
What was his cause of anger?
Alex.
The noise goes, this: There is among the Greeks
A lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Hector;
They call him, Ajax.
Cres.
Good; And what of him?
Alex.
They say he is a very man per se4 note
,
And stands alone.
Cres.
So do all men; unless they are drunk, sick,
or have no legs.
Alex.
This man, lady, hath robbed many beasts
of their particular additions5 note
; he is as valiant as the
lion, churlish as the bear, slow as the elephant: a
man into whom nature hath so crouded humours,
that his valour is crushed into folly6 note
, 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
hair7 note: He hath the joints of every thing; but every
-- 240 --
thing so out of joint, that he is a gouty Briareus,
many hands and no use; or purblind Argus, all eyes
and no sight.
Cres.
But how should this man, that makes me
smile, make Hector angry?
Alex.
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.
Enter Pandarus.
Cres.
Who comes here?
Alex.
Madam, your uncle Pandarus.
Cres.
Hector's a gallant man.
Alex.
As may be in the world, lady.
Pan.
What's that? what's that?
Cres.
Good morrow, uncle Pandarus.
Pan.
Good morrow, cousin Cressid: What do
you talk of?—Good morrow, Alexander.—How do
you, cousin8 note
? When were you at Ilium9 note?
-- 241 --
Cres.
This morning, uncle.
Pan.
What were you talking of, when I came?
Was Hector armed, and gone, ere ye came to Ilium?
Helen was not up, was she?
Cres.
Hector was gone; but Helen was not up.
Pan.
E'en so: Hector was stirring early.
Cres.
That were we talking of, and of his anger.
Pan.
Was he angry?
Cres.
So he says here.
Pan.
True, he was so; I know the cause too;
he'll lay about him to-day, I can tell them that:
and there is Troilus will not come far behind him;
let them take heed of Troilus; I can tell them that
too.
Cres.
What, is he angry too?
Pan.
Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better man
of the two.
Cres.
O, Jupiter! there's no comparison.
Pan.
What, not between Troilus and Hector?
Do you know a man if you see him?
Cres.
Ay; if ever I saw him before, and knew
him.
Pan.
Well, I say, Troilus is Troilus.
Cres.
Then you say as I say: for, I am sure, he
is not Hector.
Pan.
No, nor Hector is not Troilus, in some
degrees.
Cres.
'Tis just to each of them; he is himself.
-- 242 --
Pan.
Himself? Alas, poor Troilus! I would, he
were,—
Cres.
So he is.
Pan.
—'Condition, I had gone bare-foot to
India.
Cres.
He is not Hector.
Pan.
Himself? no, he's not himself.—'Would
'a were himself! Well, the gods are above1 note; 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.
Cres.
Excuse me.
Pan.
He is elder.
Cres.
Pardon me, pardon me.
Pan.
The other's not come to't; you shall tell
me another tale, when the other's come to't. Hector
shall not have his wit2 note this year.
Cres.
He shall not need it, if he have his own.
Pan.
Nor his qualities;—
Cres.
No matter.
Pan.
Nor his beauty.
Cres.
'Twould not become him, his own's better.
Pan.
You have no judgment, niece: Helen herself
swore the other day, that Troilus, for a brown
favour, (for so 'tis, I must confess,)—Not brown
neither.
Cres.
No, but brown.
Pan.
'Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown.
Cres.
To say the truth, true and not true.
Pan.
She prais'd his complexion above Paris.
Cres.
Why, Paris hath colour enough.
Pan.
So he has.
Cres.
Then, Troilus should have too much; if
-- 243 --
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.
Pan.
I swear to you, I think, Helen loves him
better than Paris.
Cres.
Then she's a merry Greek3 note
, indeed.
Pan.
Nay, I am sure she does. She came to
him the other day into a compassed window4 note
,—and,
you know, he has not past three or four hairs on his
chin.
Cres.
Indeed, a tapster's arithmetick may soon
bring his particulars therein to a total.
Pan.
Why, he is very young: and yet will he,
within three pound, lift as much as his brother
Hector.
Cres.
Is he so young a man, and so old a lifter5 note
?
-- 244 --
Pan.
But, to prove to you that Helen loves
him;—she came, and puts me her white hand to
his cloven chin,—
Cres.
Juno have mercy!—How came it cloven?
Pan.
Why, you know, 'tis dimpled: I think,
his smiling becomes him better than any man in
all Phrygia.
Cres.
O, he smiles valiantly.
Pan.
Does he not?
Cres.
O yes, an 'twere a cloud in autumn.
Pan.
Why, go to then:—But to prove to you
that Helen loves Troilus,—
Cres.
Troilus will stand to the proof, if you'll
prove it so.
Pan.
Troilus? why, he esteems her no more than
I esteem an addle egg.
Cres.
If you love an addle egg as well as you love
an idle head, you would eat chickens i'the shell.
Pan.
I cannot choose but laugh, to think how
she tickled his chin;—Indeed, she has a marvellous
white hand, I must needs confess.
Cres.
Without the rack.
Pan.
And she takes upon her to spy a white hair
on his chin.
Cres.
Alas, poor chin! many a wart is richer.
Pan.
But, there was such laughing;—Queen
Hecuba laughed, that her eyes ran o'er.
Cres.
With mill-stones6 note
.
Pan.
And Cassandra laughed.
Cres.
But there was a more temperate fire under
the pot of her eyes;—Did her eyes run o'er too?
Pan.
And Hector laughed.
Cres.
At what was all this laughing?
-- 245 --
Pan.
Marry, at the white hair that Helen spied
on Troilus' chin.
Cres.
An't had been a green hair, I should have
laughed too.
Pan.
They laughed not so much at the hair, as
at his pretty answer.
Cres.
What was his answer?
Pan.
Quoth she, Here's but one and fifty hairs
on your chin, and one of them is white.
Cres.
This is her question.
Pan.
That's true; make no question of that.
One and fifty hairs7 note, 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 it out, and give it him. But, there was such
laughing! and Helen so blushed, and Paris so chafed,
and all the rest so laughed, that it passed8 note.
Cres.
So let it now; for it has been a great while
going by.
Pan.
Well, cousin, I told you a thing yesterday;
think on't.
Cres.
So I do.
Pan.
I'll be sworn, 'tis true; he will weep you,
an 'twere a man born in April9 note
.
-- 246 --
Cres.
And I'll spring up in his tears, an 'twere a
nettle against May.
[A retreat sounded.
Pan.
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.
Cres.
At your pleasure.
Pan.
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.
Æneas passes over the Stage.
Cres.
Speak not so loud.
Pan.
That's Æneas; 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.
Cres.
Who's that?
Antenor passes over.
Pan.
That's Antenor; he has a shrewd wit1 note
, I
can tell you; and he's a man good enough: he's
one o'the soundest judgments* note in Troy, whosoever,
-- 247 --
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.
Cres.
Will he give you the nod?
Pan.
You shall see.
Cres.
If he do, the rich shall have more2 note
.
Hector passes over.
Pan.
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?
Cres.
O, a brave man!
Pan.
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!
Cres.
Be those with swords?
Paris passes over.
Pan.
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: 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.
-- 248 --
Ha! 'would I could see Troilus now!—you shall
see Troilus anon.
Cres.
Who's that?
Helenus passes over.
Pan.
That's Helenus,—I marvel, where Troilus
is:—That's Helenus;—I think he went not forth
to-day:—That's Helenus.
Cres.
Can Helenus fight, uncle?
Pan.
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.
Cres.
What sneaking fellow comes yonder?
Troilus passes over.
Pan.
Where? yonder? that's Deiphobus: 'Tis
Troilus! there's a man, niece!—Hem!—Brave
Troilus! the prince of chivalry!
Cres.
Peace, for shame, peace!
Pan.
Mark him; note him;—O brave Troilus!
—look well upon him, niece; look you how his
sword is bloodied3 note
, and his helm more hack'd than
Hector's4 note
; 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 boot5 note.
-- 249 --
Forces pass over the Stage.
Cres.
Here come more.
Pan.
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.
Cres.
There is among the Greeks, Achilles; a
better man than Troilus.
Pan.
Achilles? a drayman, a porter, a very
camel.
Cres.
Well, well.
Pan.
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?
Cres.
Ay, a minced man: and then to be baked
with no date in the pye6 note
,—for then the man's date
is out.
Pan.
You are such a woman! one knows not at
what ward you lie7 note.
Cres.
Upon my back, to defend my belly; upon
my wit, to defend my wiles8 note
; upon my secrecy, to
-- 250 --
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.
Pan.
Say one of your watches.
Cres.
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 is past watching.
Pan.
You are such another!
Enter Troilus' Boy.
Boy.
Sir, my lord would instantly speak with you.
Pan.
Where?
Boy.
At your own house; there he unarms him9 note
.
Pan.
Good boy, tell him I come: [Exit Boy.]
I doubt, he be hurt.—Fare ye well, good niece.
Cres.
Adieu, uncle.
Pan.
I'll be with you, niece, by and by.
Cres.
To bring, uncle,—
Pan.
Ay, a token from Troilus.
Cres.
By the same token—you are a bawd.—
[Exit Pandarus.
Words, vows, griefs, tears, and love's full sacrifice,
He offers in another's enterprize:
But more in Troilus thousand fold I see
-- 251 --
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 doing1 note
:
That she2 note belov'd knows nought, that knows not this,—
Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is:
That she was never yet, that ever knew
Love got so sweet, as when desire did sue:
Therefore this maxim out of love I teach,—
Achievement is command; ungain'd, beseech3 note:
Then though4 note my heart's content5 note
firm love doth bear,
Nothing of that shall from mine eyes appear.
[Exit.
-- 252 --
SCENE III.
The Grecian Camp. Before Agamemnon's Tent.
Trumpets. Enter Agamemnon, Nestor, Ulysses, Menelaus, and Others.
Agam.
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 promis'd largeness: checks and disasters
Grow in the veins of actions highest rear'd;
As knots, by the conflúx 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 gav't surmised shape. Why then, you princes,
Do you with cheeks abash'd behold our works;
And think them shame* note, 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
-- 253 --
In fortune's love: for then, the bold and coward,
The wise and fool, the artist and unread,
The hard and soft, seem all affin'd6 note
and kin:
But, in the wind and tempest of her frown,
Distinction, with a broad7 note and powerful fan,
Puffing at all, winnows the light away;
And what hath mass, or matter, by itself
Lies, rich in virtue, and unmingled.
Nest.
With due observance of thy godlike seat8 note
,
Great Agamemnon, Nestor shall apply
Thy latest words9 note
. 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 breast1 note, making their way
-- 254 --
With those of nobler bulk2 note
?
But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage
The gentle Thetis3 note
, and, anon, behold
The strong-ribb'd bark through liquid mountains cut,
Bounding between the two moist elements,
Like Perseus' horse4 note
: Where's then the saucy boat,
-- 255 --
Whose weak untimber'd sides but even now
Co-rival'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 brize5 note
,
Than by the tiger: but when the splitting wind
Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks,
And flies fled under shade6 note, Why, then, the thing of courage7 note,
As rous'd with rage, with rage doth sympathize,
And with an accent turn'd in self-same key,
Returns to chiding fortune8 note
.
-- 256 --
Ulyss.
Agamemnon,—
Thou great commander, nerve and bone of Greece,
Heart of our numbers, soul and only spirit,
In whom the tempers and the minds of all
Should be shut up,—hear what Ulysses speaks.
Besides the applause and approbation
The which,—most mighty for thy place and sway,—
[To Agamemnon.
And thou most reverend for thy stretch'd-out life,—
[To Nestor.
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 axletree9 note
On which heaven rides,) knit all the Greekish ears
To his experienc'd tongue1 note
,—yet let it please both,—
-- 257 --
Thou great,—and wise2 note
,—to hear Ulysses speak.
-- 258 --
Agam.
Speak3 note, prince of Ithaca; and be't of less expect4 note
-- 259 --
That matter needless, of importless burden,
Divide thy lips; than we are confident,
-- 260 --
When rank Thersites opes his mastive jaws,
We shall hear musick, wit, and oracle.
Ulyss.
Troy, yet upon his basis, had been down,
And the great Hector's sword had lack'd a master5 note
,
But for these instances.
The specialty of rule6 note hath been neglected:
And, look, how many Grecian tents do stand
Hollow upon this plain, so many hollow factions7 note
,
When that the general is not like the hive8 note,
-- 261 --
To whom the foragers shall all repair,
What honey is expected? Degree being vizarded,
The unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask.
The heavens themselves9 note, the planets, and this center1 note
,
Observe degree, priority, and place,
Insisture, course, proportion, season, form,
Office, and custom, in all line of order:
And therefore is the glorious planet, Sol,
In noble eminence enthron'd and spher'd
Amidst the other; whose med'cinable eye
Corrects the ill aspécts of planets evil2 note
,
And posts, like the commandment of a king,
Sans check, to good and bad: But, when the planets,
In evil mixture, to disorder wander3 note
,
-- 262 --
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 deracinate4 note
The unity and married calm of states5 note
-- 263 --
Quite from their fixture? O, when degree is shak'd6 note
,
Which is the ladder of all high designs,
The enterprize7 note
is sick! How could communities,
Degrees in schools, and brotherhoods in cities8 note,
Peaceful commérce from dividable shores9 note,
The primogenitive and due of birth,
Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels,
But by degree, stand in authentick place?
Take but degree away, untune that string,
And, hark, what discord follows! each thing meets
In mere oppugnancy1 note
: The bounded waters
Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores,
And make a sop of all this solid globe2 note
:
-- 264 --
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 neglection3 note
of degree it is,
That by a pace4 note goes backward, with a purpose
It hath to climb5 note
. 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 emulation6 note:
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,
Nest.
Most wisely hath Ulysses here discover'd
The fever whereof all our power7 note
is sick.
-- 265 --
Agam.
The nature of the sickness found, Ulysses,
What is the remedy?
Ulyss.
The great Achilles,—whom opinion crowns
The sinew and the forehand of our host,—
Having his ear full of his airy fame8 note,
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 aukward action
(Which, slanderer, he imitation calls,)
He pageants us. Sometime, great Agamemnon,
Thy topless deputation9 note
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 scaffoldage1 note,—
Such to-be-pitied and o'er-wrested seeming2 note
-- 266 --
He acts thy greatness in: and when he speaks,
'Tis like a chime a mending3 note; with terms unsquar'd4 note,
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 parallels5 note
; as like as Vulcan and his wife:
Yet good 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-fumbling6 note
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
-- 267 --
In pleasure of my spleen. And in this fashion,
All our abilities, gifts, natures, shapes,
Severals and generals of grace exact,
Achievements, plots7 note
, 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 paradoxes8 note
.
Nest.
And in the imitation of these twain
(Whom, 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 rein9 note
, 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 mint1 note,)
To match us in comparisons with dirt;
To weaken and discredit our exposure,
How rank soever rounded in with danger2 note
.
Ulyss.
They tax our policy, and call it cowardice;
Count wisdom as no member of the war;
Forestall prescíence, and esteem no act
-- 268 --
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' weight3 note
,—
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 poize,
They place before his hand that made the engine;
Or those, that with the fineness of their souls
By reason guide his execution.
Nest.
Let this be granted, and Achilles' horse
Makes many Thetis' sons.
[Trumpet sounds.
Agam.
What trumpet? look, Menelaus4 note.
Enter Æneas.
Men.
From Troy.
Agam.
What would you 'fore our tent?
Æne.
Is this
Great Agamemnon's tent, I pray?
Agam.
Even this.
Æne.
May one, that is a herald, and a prince,
Do a fair message to his kingly ears5 note
?
Agam.
With surety stronger than Achilles' arm6 note
-- 269 --
'Fore all the Greekish heads, which with one voice
Call Agamemnon head and general.
Æne.
Fair leave, and large security. How may
A stranger to those most imperial looks7 note
Know them from eyes of other mortals?
Agam.
How?
Æne.
Ay;
I ask, that I might waken reverence,
And bid the cheek8 note
be ready with a blush
Modest as morning when she coldly eyes
The youthful Phœbus:
Which is that god in office, guiding men?
Which is the high and mighty Agamemnon?
Agam.
This Trojan scorns us; or the men of Troy
Are ceremonious courtiers.
Æne.
Courtiers as free, as debonair, unarm'd
-- 270 --
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 heart9 note
. But peace, Æneas,
-- 271 --
Peace, Trojan; lay thy finger on thy lips!
The worthiness of praise disdains his worth,
If that the prais'd himself bring the praise forth1 note
:
But what the repining enemy commends,
That breath fame follows; that praise, sole pure, transcends.
Agam.
Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself Æneas?
Æne.
Ay, Greek, that is my name.
Agam.
What's your affair, I pray you2 note
?
Æne.
Sir, pardon; 'tis for Agamemnon's ears.
Agam.
He hears nought privately, that comes from Troy.
-- 272 --
Æne.
Nor I from Troy came not to whisper him:
I bring a trumpet to awake his ear;
To set his sense on the attentive bent,
And then to speak.
Agam.
Speak frankly as the wind3 note
;
It is not Agamemnon's sleeping hour:
That thou shalt know, Trojan, he is awake,
He tells thee so himself.
Æne.
Trumpet, blow loud,
Send thy brass voice through all these lazy tents;—
And every Greek of mettle, let him know,
What Troy means fairly, shall be spoke aloud.
[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 truce4 note
Is rusty5 note 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;
-- 273 --
That loves his mistress more than in confession6 note,
(With truant vows to her own lips he loves7 note,)
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,
Mid-way between your tents and walls of Troy,
To rouse a Grecian that is true in love:
If any come, Hector shall honour him;
If none, he'll say in Troy, when he retires,
The Grecian dames are sun-burn'd, and not worth
The splinter of a lance8 note
. Even so much.
Agam.
This shall be told our lovers, lord Æneas;
If none of them have soul in such a kind,
We left them all at home: But we are soldiers;
And may that soldier a mere recreant prove,
That means not, hath not, or is not in love!
If then one is, or hath, or means to be,
That one meets Hector; if none else, I am he.
Nest.
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 host9 note
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,
-- 274 --
And in my vantbrace2 note
put this wither'd brawn;
And, meeting him, will tell him, That my lady
Was fairer than his grandame, and as chaste
As may be in the world; His youth in flood,
I'll prove this truth with my three drops of blood3 note
.
Æne.
Now heavens forbid such scarcity of youth!
Ulyss.
Amen.
Agam.
Fair lord Æneas, 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.
Ulyss.
Nestor,—
Nest.
What says Ulysses?
Ulyss.
I have a young conception in my brain,
Be you my time to bring it to some shape4 note
.
Nest.
What is't?
Ulyss.
This 'tis:
Blunt wedges rive hard knots: The seeded pride5 note
-- 275 --
That hath to this maturity blown up
In rank Achilles, must or now be cropp'd,
Or, shedding, breed a nursery6 note of like evil,
To overbulk us all.
Nest.
Well, and how7 note
?
Ulyss.
This challenge that the gallant Hector sends,
However it is spread in general name,
Relates in purpose only to Achilles.
Nest.
The purpose is perspicuous even as substance,
Whose grossness little characters sum up8 note
:
-- 276 --
And, in the publication, make no strain9 note
,
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.
Ulyss.
And wake him to the answer, think you?
Nest.
Yes,
It is most meet: Whom may you else oppose,
That can from Hector bring those honours1 note 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 fin'st palate: And trust to me, Ulysses,
Our imputation shall be oddly pois'd
In this wild action: for the success,
Although particular, shall give a scantling2 note
Of good or bad unto the general;
And in such indexes, although small pricks3 note
To their subséquent volumes, there is seen
The baby figure of the giant mass
-- 277 --
Of things to come at large. It is suppos'd,
He, that meets Hector, issues from our choice:
And choice, being mutual act of all our souls,
Makes merit her election; and doth boil,
As 'twere from forth us all, a man distill'd
Out of our virtues; Who miscarrying,
What heart receives from hence a conquering part,
To steel a strong opinion to themselves?
Which entertain'd4 note, limbs are his instruments5 note
,
In no less working, than are swords and bows
Directive by the limbs.
Ulyss.
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 not6 note
,
The lustre of the better shall exceed,
By showing the worse first7 note
. 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.
Nest.
I see them not with my old eyes; what are they?
-- 278 --
Ulyss.
What glory our Achilles shares from Hector,
Were he not proud, we all should share8 note with him:
But he already is too insolent;
And we were better parch in Africk 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 opinion9 note crush
In taint of our best man. No, make a lottery;
And, by device, let blockish Ajax1 note
draw
-- 279 --
The sort2 note
to fight with Hector: Among ourselves,
Give him allowance for the better man,
-- 280 --
For that will physick 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 opinion3 note 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.
Nest.
Ulysses,
Now I begin to relish thy advice4 note
;
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 on5 note
, as 'twere their bone.
[Exeunt.
6 note.
ACT II
SCENE I.
Another Part of the Grecian Camp.
Enter Ajax and Thersites.
Ajax.
Thersites,—
Ther.
Agamemnon—how if he had boils? full,
all over, generally?
-- 281 --
Ajax.
Thersites,—
Ther.
And those boils did run?—Say so,—did
not the general run then? were not that a botchy
core?
Ajax.
Dog,—
Ther.
Then would come some matter from him;
I see none now.
Ajax.
Thou bitch-wolf's son, canst thou not
hear? Feel then.
[Strikes him.
Ther.
The plague of Greece upon thee7 note
, thou
mongrel beef-witted lord8 note
!
-- 282 --
Ajax.
Speak then, thou unsalted leaven, speak9 note
:
I will beat thee into handsomeness.
Ther.
I shall sooner rail thee into wit and holiness:
but, I think, thy horse will sooner con an
oration, than thou learn a prayer without book.
Thou canst strike, canst thou? a red murrain o'thy
jade's tricks1 note!
Ajax.
Toads-stool, learn me the proclamation.
Ther.
Dost thou think, I have no sense, thou
strikest me thus?
Ajax.
The proclamation,—
Ther.
Thou art proclaimed a fool, I think.
Ajax.
Do not, porcupine, do not; my fingers
itch.
Ther.
I would, thou didst itch from head to
foot, and I had the scratching of thee; I would
make thee the loathsomest scab in Greece2 note. When
-- 283 --
thou art forth in the incursions, thou strikest as slow
as another.
Ajax.
I say, the proclamation,—
Ther.
Thou grumblest and railest every hour on
Achilles; and thou art as full of envy at his greatness,
as Cerberus is at Proserpina's beauty, ay, that
thou barkest at him3 note
.
Ajax.
Mistress Thersites!
Ther.
Thou shouldest strike him.
Ajax.
Cobloaf4 note
!
Ther.
He would pun thee into shivers5 note
with his
fist, as a sailor breaks a biscuit.
Ajax.
You whoreson cur!
[Beating him.
Ther.
Do, do.
Ajax.
Thou stool for a witch6 note!
-- 284 --
Ther.
Ay, do, do; thou sodden-witted lord! thou
hast no more brain than I have in mine elbows; an
assinego7 note
may tutor thee: Thou scurvy valiant
ass! thou art here put to thrash Trojans; and thou
art bought and sold8 note
among those of any wit, like
-- 285 --
a Barbarian slave. If thou use to beat me9 note, I will
begin at thy heel, and tell what thou art by inches,
thou thing of no bowels, thou!
Ajax.
You dog!
Ther.
You scurvy lord!
Ajax.
You cur!
[Beating him.
Ther.
Mars his idiot! do, rudeness; do, camel;
do, do.
Enter Achilles and Patroclus.
Achil.
Why, how now, Ajax? wherefore do you thus?
How now, Thersites? what's the matter, man?
Ther.
You see him there, do you?
Achil.
Ay; what's the matter?
Ther.
Nay, look upon him.
Achil.
So I do; What's the matter?
Ther.
Nay, but regard him well.
Achil.
Well, why I do so.
Ther.
But yet you look not well upon him: for,
whosoever you take him to be, he is Ajax.
Achil.
I know that, fool.
Ther.
Ay, but that fool knows not himself.
Ajax.
Therefore I beat thee.
Ther.
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
mater1 note is not worth the ninth part of a sparrow.
-- 286 --
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.
Achil.
What?
Ther.
I say, this Ajax—
Achil.
Nay, good Ajax.
[Ajax offers to strike him, Achilles interposes.
Ther.
Has not so much wit—
Achil.
Nay, I must hold you.
Ther.
As will stop the eye of Helen's needle,
for whom he comes to fight.
Achil.
Peace, fool!
Ther.
I would have peace and quietness, but the
fool will not: he there; that he, look you there.
Ajax.
O thou damned cur! I shall—
Achil.
Will you set your wit to a fool's?
Ther.
No, I warrant you; for a fool's will shame
it.
Patr.
Good words, Thersites.
Achil.
What's the quarrel?
Ajax.
I bade the vile owl, go learn me the tenour
of the proclamation, and he rails upon me.
Ther.
I serve thee not.
Ajax.
Well, go to, go to.
Ther.
I serve here voluntary.
Achil.
Your last service was sufferance, 'twas not
voluntary; no man is beaten voluntary2 note; Ajax was
here the voluntary, and you as under an impress.
Ther.
Even so?—a great deal of your wit too
lies in your sinews, or else there be liars. Hector
shall have a great catch, if he knock out either of
-- 287 --
your brains3 note
; 'a were as good crack a fusty nut with
no kernel.
Achil.
What, with me too, Thersites?
Ther.
There's Ulysses, and old Nestor,—whose
wit was mouldy ere your grandsires had nails4 note on
their toes,—yoke you like draught oxen, and make
you plough up the wars.
Achil.
What, what?
Ther.
Yes, good sooth: To, Achilles! to Ajax!
to!
Ajax.
I shall cut out your tongue.
Ther.
'Tis no matter; I shall speak as much as
thou, afterwards.
Patr.
No more words, Thersites; peace.
Ther.
I will hold my peace when Achilles' brach
bids me5 note
, shall I?
-- 288 --
Achil.
There's for you, Patroclus.
Ther.
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.
Patr.
A good riddance.
Achil.
Marry, this, sir, is proclaimed through all our host:
That Hector, by the first6 note 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?
Achil.
I know not, it is put to lottery; otherwise,
He knew his man.
Ajax.
O, meaning you:—I'll go learn more of it.
[Exeunt.
-- 289 --
SCENE II.
Troy. A Room in Priam's Palace.
Enter Priam, Hector, Troilus, Paris, and Helenus.
Pri.
After so many hours, lives, speeches spent,
Thus once again says Nestor from the Greeks;
Deliver Helen, and all damage else—
As honour, loss of time, travel, expence,
Wounds, friends, and what else dear that is consum'd
In hot digestion of this cormorant war,—
Shall be struck off:—Hector, what say you to't?
Hect.
Though no man lesser fears the Greeks than I,
As far as toucheth my particular, yet,
Dread Priam,
There is no lady of more softer bowels,
More spungy7 note
to suck in the sense of fear,
More ready to cry out—Who knows what follows8 note?
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 dismes9 note
,
Hath been as dear as Helen; I mean, of ours:
-- 290 --
If we have lost so many tenths of ours,
To guard a thing not ours; not 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?
Tro.
Fye, fye, 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 infinite1 note
?
And buckle-in a waist most fathomless,
With spans and inches so diminutive
As fears and reasons? fye, for godly shame!
Hel.
No marvel, though you bite so sharp at reasons2 note
,
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?
Tro.
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
-- 291 --
The very wings of reason to his heels;
And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove,
Or like a star dis-orb'd3 note
?—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 deject4 note
.
Hect.
Brother, she is not worth what she doth cost
The holding.
Tro.
What is aught, but as 'tis valued?
Hect.
But value dwells not in particular will;
It holds his estimate and dignity
As well wherein 'tis precious of itself
As in the prizer: 'tis mad idolatry,
To make the service greater than the god;
And the will dotes, that is attributive5 note
To what infectiously itself affects,
-- 292 --
Without some image of the affected merit6 note
.
Tro.
I take to-day a wife, and my election
Is led on in the conduct of my will7 note;
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 blench8 note from this, and to stand firm by honour:
We turn not back the silks upon the merchant,
When we have soil'd them9 note
; nor the remainder viands
We do not throw in unrespective sieve1 note
,
-- 293 --
Because we now are full. It was thought meet,
Paris should do some vengeance on the Greeks:
Your breath with full consent2 note bellied his sails;
The seas and winds (old wranglers) took a truce,
And did him service: he touch'd the ports desir'd;
And, for an old aunt3 note
, whom the Greeks held captive,
He brought a Grecian queen, whose youth and freshness
Wrinkles Apollo's, and makes pale the morning4 note
.
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 cry'd—Go, go,)
If you'll confess, he brought home noble prize,
(As you must needs, for you all clapp'd your hands,
And cry'd—Inestimable!) why do you now
The issue of your proper wisdoms rate;
And do a deed that fortune never did5 note
,
-- 294 --
Beggar the estimation which you priz'd
Richer than sea and land? O theft most base;
That we have stolen what we do fear to keep!
But, thieves6 note
, unworthy of a thing so stolen,
That in their country did them that disgrace,
We fear to warrant in our native place!
Cas. [Within.]
Cry, Trojans, cry!
Pri.
What noise? what shriek is this?
Tro.
'Tis our mad sister, I do know her voice.
Cas. [Within.]
Cry, Trojans!
Hect.
It is Cassandra.
Enter Cassandra, raving7 note
.
Cas.
Cry, Trojans, cry! lend me ten thousand eyes,
And I will fill them with prophetick tears.
Hect.
Peace, sister, peace.
Cas.
Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled elders8 note
,
-- 295 --
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 stand9 note
;
Our fire-brand brother1 note
, Paris, burns us all.
Cry, Trojans, cry! a Helen, and a woe:
Cry, cry! Troy burns, or else let Helen go.
[Exit.
Hect.
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?
Tro.
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 distaste2 note the goodness of a quarrel,
-- 296 --
Which hath our several honours all engag'd
To make it gracious3 note. For my private part,
I am no more touch'd than all Priam's sons:
And Jove forbid, there should be done amongst us
Such things as might offend the weakest spleen
To fight for and maintain!
Par.
Else might the world convince of levity4 note
As well my undertakings, as your counsels:
But I attest the gods, your full consent5 note
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.
Pri.
Paris, you speak
Like one besotted on your sweet delights:
You have the honey still, but these the gall;
So to be valiant, is no praise at all.
Par.
Sir, I propose not merely to myself
The pleasures such a beauty brings with it;
But I would have the soil of her fair rape6 note
-- 297 --
Wip'd off, in honourable keeping her.
What treason were it to the ransack'd queen,
Disgrace to your great worths, and shame to me,
Now to deliver her possession up,
On terms of base compulsion? Can it be,
That so degenerate a strain as this,
Should once set footing in your generous bosoms?
There's not the meanest spirit on our party,
Without a heart to dare, or sword to draw,
When Helen is defended; nor none so noble,
Whose life were ill bestow'd, or death unfam'd,
Where Helen is the subject: then, I say,
Well may we fight for her, whom, we know well,
The world's large spaces cannot parallel.
Hect.
Paris, and Troilus, you have both said well;
And on the cause and question now in hand
Have gloz'd7 note
,—but superficially; not much
Unlike young men, whom Aristotle8 note
thought
-- 298 --
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 adders9 note 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 indulgence1 note
To their benumbed wills2 note, resist the same;
There is a law3 note 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 truth4 note: yet, ne'ertheless,
-- 299 --
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.
Tro.
Why, there you touch'd the life of our design:
Were it not glory that we more affected
Than the performance of our heaving spleens5 note,
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 us6 note:
For, I presume, brave Hector would not lose
So rich advantage of a promis'd glory,
As smiles upon the forehead of this action,
For the wide world's revenue.
Hect.
I am yours,
You valiant offspring of great Priamus.—
I have a roisting challenge sent amongst
The dull and factious nobles of the Greeks,
Will strike amazement to their drowsy spirits:
I was advértis'd, their great general slept,
Whilst emulation7 note
in the army crept;
This, I presume, will wake him.
[Exeunt.
-- 300 --
SCENE III.
The Grecian Camp. Before Achilles' Tent.
Enter Thersites.
Ther.
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 engineer8 note. 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 Caduceus9 note
; 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
irons1 note
, and cutting the web. After this, the vengeance
-- 301 --
on the whole camp! or, rather, the bone-ache2 note
!
for that, methinks, is the curse dependant
on those that war for a placket3. I have said my
prayers; and devil, envy, say Amen. What, ho!
my lord Achilles!
Enter Patroclus.
Patr.
Who's there? Thersites? Good Thersites,
come in and rail.
Ther.
If I could have remembered a gilt counterfeit,
thou wouldest not have slipped out of my
contemplation4 note: 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 direction5 note
till thy death!
-- 302 --
then if she, that lays thee out, says—thou art a fair
corse, I'll be sworn and sworn upon't, she never
shrouded any but lazars. Amen. Where's Achilles?
Patr.
What, art thou devout? wast thou in
prayer?
Ther.
Ay; The heavens hear me!
Enter Achilles.
Achil.
Who's there?
Patr.
Thersites, my lord.
Achil.
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?
Ther.
Thy commander, Achilles;—Then tell
me, Patroclus, what's Achilles?
Patr.
Thy lord, Thersites; Then tell me, I pray
thee, what's thyself?
Ther.
Thy knower, Patroclus; Then tell me,
Patroclus, what art thou?
Patr.
Thou mayest tell, that knowest.
Achil.
O tell, tell.
Ther.
I'll decline the whole question6 note. Agamemnon
commands Achilles; Achilles is my lord;
I am Patroclus' knower; and Patroclus is a fool7 note.
Patr.
You rascal!
Ther.
Peace, fool; I have not done.
Achil.
He is a privileged man.—Proceed, Thersites.
Ther.
Agamemnon is a fool; Achilles is a fool;
-- 303 --
Thersites is a fool; and, as aforesaid, Patroclus is a
fool.
Achil.
Derive this: come.
Ther.
Agamemnon is a fool to offer to command
Achilles: Achilles is a fool to be commanded of
Agamemnon; Thersites is a fool to serve such a
fool; and Patroclus is a fool positive8 note.
Patr.
Why am I a fool?
Ther.
Make that demand of the prover9 note
.—It
suffices me, thou art. Look you, who comes here?
Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Nestor, Diomedes, and Ajax.
Achil.
Patroclus, I'll speak with nobody:—
Come in with me, Thersites.
[Exit.
Ther.
Here is such patchery, such juggling, and
such knavery! all the argument is, a cuckold, and
a whore; A good quarrel, to draw emulous factions1 note
,
and bleed to death upon. Now the dry
serpigo on the subject2 note
! and war, and lechery,
confound all!
[Exit.
Agam.
Where is Achilles?
Patr.
Within his tent; but ill-dispos'd, my lord.
Agam.
Let it be known to him that we are here.
-- 304 --
He shent our messengers3 note
; 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.
Patr.
I shall say so to him.
[Exit.
Ulyss.
We saw him at the opening of his tent;
He is not sick.
Ajax.
Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart: you
may call it melancholy, if you will favour the man;
but, by my head, 'tis pride: But why, why? let him
show us a cause.—A word, my lord.
[Takes Agamemnon aside.
Nest.
What moves Ajax thus to bay at him?
Ulyss.
Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him.
Nest.
Who? Thersites?
Ulyss.
He.
Nest.
Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost
his argument.
-- 305 --
Ulyss.
No you see, he is his argument, that has
his argument; Achilles.
Nest.
All the better; their fraction is more our
wish, than their faction: But it was a strong composure4 note,
a fool could disunite.
Ulyss.
The amity, that wisdom knits not, folly
may easily untie. Here comes Patroclus.
Re-enter Patroclus.
Nest.
No Achilles with him.
Ulyss.
The elephant hath joints5 note
, but none for
courtesy: his legs are legs for necessity, not for
flexure.
Patr.
Achilles bids me say—he is much sorry,
If any thing more than your sport and pleasure
Did move your greatness, and this noble state6 note
,
To call upon him; he hopes, it is no other,
-- 306 --
But, for your health and your digestion sake,
An after-dinner's breath7 note.
Agam.
Hear you, Patroclus:—
We are too well acquainted with these answers:
But his evasion, wing'd thus swift with scorn,
Cannot outfly our apprehensions.
Much attribute he hath; and much the reason
Why we ascribe it to him: yet all his virtues,—
Not virtuously on his own part beheld,—
Do, in our eyes, begin to lose their gloss;
Yea, like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish,
Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell him,
We come to speak with him: And you shall not sin,
If you do say—we think him over-proud,
And under-honest; in self-assumption greater,
Than in the note of judgment8 note; and worthier than himself
Here tend the savage strangeness9 note
he puts on;
Disguise the holy strength of their command,
And underwrite1 note
in an observing kind2 note
His humorous predominance; yea, watch
His pettish lunes3 note
, his ebbs, his flows, as if
-- 307 --
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 give4 note
Before a sleeping giant:—Tell him so.
Patr.
I shall; and bring his answer presently.
[Exit.
Agam.
In second voice we'll not be satisfied,
We come to speak with him.—Ulysses, enter5 note.
[Exit Ulysses.
Ajax.
What is he more than another?
Agam.
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?
Agam.
No question.
Ajax.
Will you subscribe his thought, and say—
he is?
Agam.
No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as
valiant, as wise, no less noble, much more gentle,
and altogether more tractable.
-- 308 --
Ajax.
Why should a man be proud? How doth
pride grow? I know not what pride is.
Agam.
Your mind's 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 praise6 note
.
Ajax.
I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendering
of toads7 note.
Nest.
And yet he loves himself: Is it not strange?
[Aside.
Re-enter Ulysses.
Ulyss.
Achilles will not to the field to-morrow.
Agam.
What's his excuse?
Ulyss.
He doth rely on none;
But carries on the stream of his dispose,
Without observance or respect of any,
In will peculiar and in self-admission.
Agam.
Why will he not, upon our fair request,
Untent his person, and share the air with us?
Ulyss.
Things small as nothing, for request's sake only,
He makes important: Possess'd he is with geatness;
And speaks not to himself, but with a pride
That quarrels at self-breath: imagin'd worth
Holds in his blood such swoln and hot discourse,
That, 'twixt his mental and his active parts,
Kingdom'd Achilles in commotion rages8 note
,
-- 309 --
And batters down himself* note: What should I say?
He is so plaguy proud9 note
, that the death tokens of it1 note
Cry—No recovery.
Agam.
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.
Ulyss.
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 seam2 note
;
And never suffers matter of the world
Enter his thoughts,—save such as do revolve
-- 310 --
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 acquir'd;
Nor, by my will, assubjugate his merit,
As amply titled as Achilles is,
By going to Achilles:
That were to enlard his fat-already pride3 note;
And add more coals to Cancer, when he burns
With entertaining great Hyperion4 note
.
This lord go to him! Jupiter forbid;
And say in thunder—Achilles, go to him.
Nest.
O, this is well; he rubs the vein of him.
[Aside.
Dio.
And how his silence drinks up this applause!
[Aside.
Ajax.
If I go to him, with my arm'd fist I'll pash him
Over the face5 note
.
Agam.
O, no, you shall not go.
Ajax.
An be proud with me, I'll pheeze his pride6 note
:
Let me go to him.
-- 311 --
Ulyss.
Not for the worth7 note that hangs upon our quarrel.
Ajax.
A paltry, insolent fellow,—
Nest.
How he describes
Himself?
[Aside.
Ajax.
Can he not be sociable?
Ulyss.
The raven
Chides blackness.
[Aside.
Ajax.
I will let his humours* note blood8 note.
Agam.
He will be the physician9 note, that should be the patient.
[Aside.
Ajax.
An all men
Were o'my mind,—
Ulyss.
Wit would be out of fashion.
[Aside.
Ajax.
He should not bear it so,
He should eat swords first: Shall pride carry it?
-- 312 --
Nest.
An 'twould, you'd carry half.
[Aside.
Ulyss.
He'd have ten shares.
[Aside.
Ajax.
I'll knead him, I will make him supple:—
Nest.
He's not yet thorough warm: force him with praises1 note
:
Pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry.
[Aside.
Ulyss.
My lord, you feed too much on this dislike.
[To Agamemnon.
Nest.
O noble general, do not do so.
Dio.
You must prepare to fight without Achilles.
Ulyss.
Why, 'tis this naming of him does him harm.
Here is a man—But 'tis before his face;
I will be silent.
Nest.
Wherefore should you so?
He is not emulous2 note
, as Achilles is.
Ulyss.
Know the whole world, he is as valiant.
-- 313 --
Ajax.
A whoreson dog, that shall palter3 note
thus with us!
I would, he were a Trojan!
Nest.
What a vice
Were it in Ajax now—
Ulyss.
If he were proud?
Dio.
Or covetous of praise?
Ulyss.
Ay, or surly borne?
Dio.
Or strange, or self-affected?
Ulyss.
Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet composure;
Praise him that got thee, she that gave thee suck4 note:
Fam'd be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature
Thrice-fam'd, beyond all erudition5 note
:
But he that disciplin'd thy arms to fight,
Let Mars divide eternity in twain,
And give him half: and, for thy vigour,
Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield6 note
-- 314 --
To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom,
Which, like a bourn7 note
, a pale, a shore, confines
Thy spacious and dilated parts: Here's Nestor,—
Instructed by the antiquary times,
He must, he is, he cannot but be wise;—
But pardon, father Nestor, were your days
As green as Ajax', and your brain so temper'd,
You should not have the eminence of him,
But be as Ajax.
Ajax.
Shall I call you father?
Nest.
Ay, my good son8 note
.
Dio.
Be rul'd by him, lord Ajax.
Ulyss.
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 Troy9 note
: 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.
-- 315 --
Agam.
Go we to council. Let Achilles sleep:
Light boats sail* note swift, though greater hulks† note draw deep1 note
.
[Exeunt.
ACT III.
SCENE I.
Troy. A Room in Priam's Palace.
Enter Pandarus and a Servant.
Pan.
Friend! you! pray you, a word: Do not
you follow the young lord Paris?
Serv.
Ay, sir, when he goes before me.
Pan.
You do depend upon him, I mean?
Serv.
Sir, I do depend upon the lord.
You do depend upon a noble gentleman;
I must needs praise him.
Serv.
The lord be praised!
Pan.
You know me, do you not?
Serv.
'Faith, sir, superficially.
Pan.
Friend, know me better; I am the lord
Pandarus.
Serv.
I hope, I shall know your honour better2 note.
Pan.
I do desire it.
Serv.
You are in the state of grace.
[Musick within.
-- 316 --
Pan.
Grace! not so, friend; honour and lordship
are my titles:—What musick is this?
Serv.
I do but partly know, sir: it is musick in
parts.
Pan.
Know you the musicians?
Serv.
Wholly, sir.
Pan.
Who play they to?
Serv.
To the hearers, sir.
Pan.
At whose pleasure, friend?
Serv.
At mine, sir, and theirs that love musick.
Pan.
Command, I mean, friend.
Serv.
Who shall I command, sir?
Pan.
Friend, we understand not one another; I
am too courtly, and thou art too cunning: At
whose request do these men play?
Serv.
That's to't, indeed, sir: Marry, sir, at the
request of Paris my lord, who is there in person;
with him, the mortal Venus, the heart-blood of
beauty, love's invisible soul3 note,—
Pan.
Who, my cousin Cressida?
Serv.
No, sir, Helen; Could you not find out
that by her attributes?
Pan.
It should seem, fellow, that thou hast not
seen the lady Cressida. I come to speak with Paris
from the prince Troilus: I will make a complimental
assault upon him, for my business seeths.
Serv.
Sodden business! there's a stewed phrase4 note,
indeed!
Enter Paris and Helen, attended.
Pan.
Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair
-- 317 --
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.
Pan.
You speak your fair pleasure, sweet queen.—
Fair prince, here is good broken musick.
Par.
You have broke it, cousin: and, by my life,
you shall make it whole again; you shall piece it
out with a piece of your performance:—Nell, he is
full of harmony.
Pan.
Truly, lady, no.
Helen.
O, sir,—
Pan.
Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude.
Par.
Well said, my lord! well, you say so in fits5 note
.
Pan.
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.
Pan.
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,—
Pan.
Go to, sweet queen, go to:—commends
himself most affectionately to you.
Helen.
You shall not bob us out of our melody;
If you do, our melancholy upon your head!
Pan.
Sweet queen, sweet queen; that's a sweet
queen, i'faith.
-- 318 --
Helen.
And to make a sweet lady sad, is a sour
offence.
Pan.
Nay, that shall not serve your turn; that
shall it not, in truth, la. Nay, I care not for such
words: no, no.—And, my lord, he desires you6 note
,
that, if the king call for him at supper, you will
make his excuse.
Helen.
My lord Pandarus,—
Pan.
What says my sweet queen,—my very very
sweet queen?
Par.
What exploit's in hand? where sups he to-night?
Helen.
Nay, but my lord,—
Pan.
What says my sweet queen?—My cousin
will fall out with you. You must not know where
he sups7 note
.
-- 319 --
Par.
I'll lay my life, with my disposer Cressida.
Pan.
No, no, no such matter, you are wide8 note;
come, your disposer is sick.
-- 320 --
Par.
Well, I'll make excuse.
Pan.
Ay, good my lord. Why should you say—
Cressida? no, your poor disposer's sick.
Par.
I spy9 note.
Pan.
You spy! what do you spy?—Come, give
me an instrument.—Now, sweet queen.
Helen.
Why, this is kindly done.
Pan.
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.
Pan.
He! no, she'll none of him; they two are
twain.
Helen.
Falling in, after falling out, may make
them three1 note.
Pan.
Come, come, I'll hear no more of this; I'll
sing you a song now.
Helen.
Ay, ay, pr'ythee now. By my troth,
sweet lord2 note, thou hast a fine forehead3 note.
-- 321 --
Pan.
Ay, you may, you may.
Helen.
Let thy song be love: this love will undo
us all. O, Cupid, Cupid, Cupid!
Pan.
Love! ay, that it shall, i'faith.
Par.
Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but love.
Pan.
In good troth, it begins so:
Love, love , nothing but love, still more!
For, oh, love's bow
Shoots buck and doe:
The shaft confounds4 note,
Not that it wounds5 note
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 still6 note
:
-- 322 --
Oh! oh! a while, but ha! ha! ha!
Oh! oh! groans out for ha! ha! ha!
Hey ho!
Helen.
In love, i'faith, to the very tip of the
nose.
Par.
He eats nothing but doves, love; and that
breeds hot blood, and hot blood begets hot thoughts,
and hot thoughts beget hot deeds, and hot deeds is
love.
Pan.
Is this the generation of love? hot blood,
hot thoughts, and hot deeds?—Why, they are vipers:
Is love a generation of vipers7 note? Sweet lord,
who's a-field to-day8 note?
Par.
Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and
all the gallantry of Troy: I would fain have armed
to-night, 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.
-- 323 --
Pan.
Not I, honey-sweet queen.—I long to hear
how they sped to-day.—You'll remember your brother's
excuse?
Par.
To a hair.
Pan.
Farewell, sweet queen.
Helen.
Commend me to your niece.
Pan.
I will, sweet queen.
[Exit.
[A Retreat sounded.
Par.
They are 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.
Par.
Sweet, above thought I love thee9 note
.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
The Same. Pandarus' Orchard.
Enter Pandarus and a Servant, meeting.
Pan.
How now? where's thy master? at my
cousin Cressida's?
-- 324 --
Serv.
No, sir; he stays for you to conduct him
thither.
Enter Troilus.
Pan.
O, here he comes.—How now, how now?
Tro.
Sirrah, walk off.
[Exit Servant.
Pan.
Have you seen my cousin?
Tro.
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
Propos'd for the deserver! O gentle Pandarus,
From Cupid's shoulder pluck his painted wings,
And fly with me to Cressid!
Pan.
Walk here i'the orchard, I'll bring her
straight.
[Exit Pandarus.
Tro.
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 watry palate tastes indeed
Love's thrice-reputed nectar? death, I fear me;
Swooning destruction; or some joy too fine,
Too subtle-potent, tun'd too sharp1 note
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 joys2 note
;
As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps
The enemy flying.
Re-enter Pandarus.
Pan.
She's making her ready, she'll come
-- 325 --
straight: you must be witty now. She does so
blush, and fetches her wind so short, as if she were
frayed3 note
with a sprite: I'll fetch her. It is the prettiest
villain:—she fetches her breath as short* note as a
new-ta'en sparrow.
[Exit Pandarus.
Tro.
Even such a passion doth embrace my bosom4 note
:
My heart beats thicker than a feverous pulse;
And all my powers do their bestowing lose,
Like vassalage at unawares encount'ring
The eye of majesty5 note
.
Enter Pandarus and Cressida.
Pan.
Come, come, what need you blush?
shame's a baby.—Here she is now: swear the oaths
now to her, that you have sworn to me.—What,
are you gone again? you must be watched ere you
be made tame6 note
, must you? Come your ways,
-- 326 --
come your ways; an you draw backward, we'll put
you i'the fills7 note
.—Why do you not speak to her?—
Come, draw this curtain, and let's see your picture8 note.
Alas the day, how loath you are to offend daylight!
an 'twere dark, you'd close sooner. So, so; rub on,
and kiss the mistress9 note
. How now, a kiss in fee-farm1 note
!
-- 327 --
build there, carpenter; the air is sweet2 note
.
Nay, you shall fight your hearts out, ere I part you.
The falcon as the tercel, for all the ducks i'the
river3 note
: go to, go to.
Tro.
You have bereft me of all words, lady.
Pan.
Words pay no debts, give her deeds: but
she'll bereave you of the deeds too, if she call your
activity in question. What, billing again? Here's
-- 328 --
—In witness whereof the parties interchangeably4 note
—
Come in, come in; I'll go get a fire.
[Exit Pandarus.
Cres.
Will you walk in, my lord?
Tro.
O Cressida, how often have I wished me
thus?
Cres.
Wished my lord?—The gods grant!—O
my lord!
Tro.
What should they grant? what makes this
pretty abruption? What too curious dreg espies my
sweet lady in the fountain of our love?
Cres.
More dregs than water, if my fears have
eyes5 note.
Tro.
Fears make devils cherubins; they never
see truly.
Cres.
Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds
safer footing than blind reason stumbling without
fear: To fear the worst, oft cures the worst.
Tro.
O, let my lady apprehend no fear: in all
Cupid's pageant there is presented no monster6 note
.
-- 329 --
Cres.
Nor nothing monstrous neither?
Tro.
Nothing, but our undertakings; when we
vow to weep seas, live in fire, eat rocks, tame
tigers7 note; 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.
Cres.
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?
Tro.
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 it8 note: 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 humble9 note
. Few words to fair faith:
-- 330 --
Troilus shall be such to Cressid, as what envy can
say worst, shall be a mock for his truth1 note; and what
truth can speak truest, not truer than Troilus.
Cres.
Will you walk in, my lord?
Re-enter Pandarus.
Pan.
What, blushing still? have you not done
talking yet?
Cres.
Well, uncle, what folly I commit, I dedicate
to you.
Pan.
I thank you for that; if my lord get a boy
of you, you'll give him me: Be true to my lord: if
he flinch, chide me for it.
Tro.
You know now your hostages; your uncle's
word, and my firm faith.
Pan.
Nay, I'll give my word for her too; our
kindred, though they be long ere they are wooed,
they are constant, being won: they are burs, I can
tell you; they'll stick where they are thrown2 note
.
Cres.
Boldness comes to me now, and brings me heart:—
Prince Troilus, I have lov'd you night and day
For many weary months.
Tro.
Why was my Cressid then so hard to win?
Cres.
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;
-- 331 --
My thoughts were like unbridled children, grown
Too headstrong for their mother: See, we fools!
Why have I blabb'd? who shall be true to us,
When we are so unsecret to ourselves?
But, though I lov'd you well, I woo'd you not;
And yet, good faith, I wish'd myself a man;
Or that we women had men's privilege
Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue;
For, in this rapture, I shall surely speak
The thing I shall repent. See, see, your silence,
Cunning in dumbness3 note, from my weakness draws
My very soul of counsel: Stop my mouth.
Tro.
And shall, albeit sweet musick issues thence.
Pan.
Pretty, i'faith.
Cres.
My lord, I do beseech you, pardon me;
'Twas not my purpose, thus to beg a kiss:
I am asham'd;—O heavens! what have I done?—
For this time will I take my leave, my lord.
Tro.
Your leave, sweet Cressid?
Pan.
Leave! an you take leave till to-morrow morning,—
Cres.
Pray you, content you.
Tro.
What offends you, lady?
Cres.
Sir, mine own company.
Tro.
You cannot shun
Yourself.
Cres.
Let me go and try4 note
:
I have a kind of self resides with you5 note
;
-- 332 --
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 speak6 note
.
Tro.
Well know they what they speak, that speak so wisely.
Cres.
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 above7 note
.
-- 333 --
Tro.
O, that I thought it could be in a woman,
(As, if it can, I will presume in you,)
To feed for aye her lamp and flames of love8 note
;
To keep her constancy in plight and youth,
Outliving beauty's outward, with a mind
That doth renew swifter than blood decays9 note
!
Or, that persuasion could but thus convince me,—
That my integrity and truth to you
Might be affronted with the match1 note
and weight
-- 334 --
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 truth2 note.
Cres.
In that I'll war with you.
Tro.
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 compare3 note
,
Want similes, truth tir'd with iteration4 note
,—
As true as steel5 note
, as plantage to the moon6 note
,
-- 335 --
As sun to day, as turtle to her mate,
As iron to adamant7 note
, as earth to the center,—
-- 336 --
Yet, after all comparisons of truth,
As truth's authentick author to be cited8 note,
As true as Troilus shall crown up the verse9 note
,
And sanctify the numbers.
Cres.
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 up1 note
,
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 have 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 Cressid2 note
.
-- 337 --
Pan.
Go to, a bargain made: seal it, seal it;
I'll be the witness.—Here I hold your hand; here,
my cousin's. If ever you prove false one to another,
since I have taken such pains to bring you
together, let all pitiful goers-between be called to
the world's end after my name, call them all—
Pandars; let all constant men3 note
be Troiluses, all
-- 338 --
false women Cressids, and all brokers-between
Pandars! say, amen.
Tro.
Amen.
Cres.
Amen.
Pan.
Amen. Whereupon I will show you a
chamber and a bed4 note
, 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 geer!
[Exeunt.
-- 339 --
SCENE III.
The Grecian Camp.
Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Diomedes, Nestor, Ajax, Menelaus, and Calchas.
Cal.
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 mind5 note
,
That, through the sight I bear in things, to Jove6 note
I have abandon'd Troy7 note
, left my possession,
-- 340 --
Incurr'd a traitor's name; expos'd myself,
From certain and possess'd conveniences,
-- 341 --
To doubtful fortunes; séquest'ring from me all
That time, acquaintance, custom, and condition,
-- 342 --
Made tame and most familiar to my nature;
And here, to do you service, and 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.
Agam.
What would'st thou of us, Trojan? make demand.
-- 343 --
Cal.
You have a Trojan prisoner, call'd Antenor8 note,
Yesterday took; Troy holds him very dear.
Oft have you, (often have you thanks therefore,)
Desir'd my Cressid in right great exchange,
Whom Troy hath still denied: But this Antenor,
I know, is such a wrest in their affairs9 note
,
-- 344 --
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 pain1 note
.
Agam.
Let Diomedes bear him,
And bring us Cressid hither; Calchas shall have
What he requests of us.—Good Diomed,
Furnish you fairly for this interchange:
Withal, bring word—if Hector will to-morrow
Be answer'd in his challenge: Ajax is ready.
Dio.
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.
Ulyss.
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, why turn'd on him2 note
:
If so, I have derision med'cinable,
To use between your strangeness and his pride,
-- 345 --
Which his own will shall have desire to drink;
It may do good: pride hath no other glass
To show itself, but pride; for supple knees
Feed arrogance, and are the proud man's fees.
Agam.
We'll execute your purpose, and put on
A form of strangeness as we pass along;—
So do each lord; and either greet him not,
Or else disdainfully, which shall shake him more
Than if not look'd on. I will lead the way.
Achil.
What, comes the general to speak with me?
You know my mind, I'll fight no more 'gainst Troy.
Agam.
What says Achilles? would he aught with us?
Nest.
Would you, my lord, aught with the general?
Achil.
No.
Nest.
Nothing, my lord.
Agam.
The better.
[Exeunt Agamemnon and Nestor.
Achil.
Good day, good day.
Men.
How do you? how do you?
[Exit Menelaus.
Achil.
What, does the cuckold scorn me?
Ajax.
How now, Patroclus?
Achil.
Good morrow, Ajax.
Ajax.
Ha?
Achil.
Good morrow3 note.
Ajax.
Ay, and good next day too.
[Exit Ajax.
Achil.
What mean these fellows? Know they not Achilles?
-- 346 --
Patr.
They pass by strangely: they were us'd to bend,
To send their smiles before them to Achilles;
To come as humbly, as they us'd to creep
To holy altars.
Achil.
What, am I poor of late?
'Tis certain, greatness, once fallen out with fortune,
Must fall out with men too: What the declin'd is,
He shall as soon read in the eyes of others,
As feel in his own fall: for men, like butterflies,
Show not their mealy wings, but to the summer;
And not a man, for being simply man,
Hath any honour; but honour4 note for those honours
That are without him, as place, riches, and favour,
Prizes of accident as oft as merit:
Which when they fall, as being slippery standers,
The love that lean'd on them as slippery too,
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?
Ulyss.
Now, great Thetis' son?
Achil.
What are you reading?
Ulyss.
A strange fellow here
Writes me, That man—how dearly ever parted5 note
,
-- 347 --
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* note upon others
Heat them, and they retort that heat again
To the first giver.
Achil.
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 itself6 note
(That most pure spirit7 note
of sense,) behold itself,
Not going from itself; but eye to eye oppos'd
Salutes each other with each other's form.
For speculation turns not to itself8 note
,
Till it hath travell'd, and is married there
Where it may see itself: this is not strange at all.
Ulyss.
I do not strain at the position,
It is familiar; but at the author's drift:
-- 348 --
Who, in his circumstance9 note, 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 are extended; which, like1 note
an arch, reverberates
The voice again; or like a gate of steel
Fronting the sun2 note
, receives and renders back
His figure and his heat. I was much rapt in this;
And apprehended here immediately
The unknown Ajax3 note.
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'd4 note
. O heavens, what some men do,
-- 349 --
While some men leave to do!
How some men creep in skittish fortune's hall5 note
,
Whiles others play the idiots in her eyes!
How one man eats into another's pride,
While pride is fasting6 note
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 shrieking7 note
.
-- 350 --
Achil.
I do believe it: for they pass'd by me,
As misers do by beggars; neither gave to me,
Good word, nor look: What, are my deeds forgot?
Ulyss.
Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back8 note
,
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: Perséverance, 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 fallen in first rank,
Lie there for pavement to the abject rear9 note,
O'er-run1 note
and trampled on: Then what they do in present,
-- 351 --
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 out-stretch'd, as he would fly,
Grasps-in the comer: Welcome ever smiles2 note,
And farewell goes out sighing. O, let not virtue seek
Remuneration for the thing it was;
For beauty, wit3 note
,
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-dusted4 note
.
-- 352 --
The present eye praises the present object:
Then marvel not, thou great and cómplete 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 thee5 note,
And still it might; and yet it may again,
If thou would'st not entomb thyself alive,
And case thy reputation in thy tent;
Whose glorious deeds, but in these fields of late,
Made emulous missions6 note
'mongst the gods themselves,
-- 353 --
And drave great Mars to faction.
Achil.
Of this my privacy
I have strong reasons.
Ulyss.
But 'gainst your privacy
The reasons are more potent and heroical:
'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love
With one of Priam's daughters7 note.
Achil.
Ha! known8 note?
Ulyss.
Is that a wonder?
The providence that's in a watchful state,
Knows almost every grain of Plutus' gold9 note
;
Finds bottom in the uncomprehensive deeps;
Keeps place with thought1 note
, and almost, like the gods,
-- 354 --
Does thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles2 note
.
There is a mystery (with whom relation
Durst never meddle3 note
) in the soul of state;
Which hath an operation more divine,
Than breath, or pen, can give expressure to:
All the commérce4 note
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.
Patr.
To this effect, Achilles, have I mov'd you:
A woman impudent and mannish grown
Is not more loath'd than an effeminate man
In time of action. I stand condemn'd for this;
-- 355 --
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 air5 note.
Achil.
Shall Ajax fight with Hector?
Patr.
Ay; and, perhaps, receive much honour by him.
Achil.
I see, my reputation is at stake;
My fame is shrewdly gor'd6 note
.
Patr.
O, then beware;
Those wounds heal ill, that men do give themselves:
Omission to do what is necessary7 note
Seals a commission to a blank of danger;
And danger, like an ague, subtly taints
Even then when we sit idly in the sun.
Achil.
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. A labour sav'd!
Enter Thersites.
Ther.
A wonder!
-- 356 --
Achil.
What?
Ther.
Ajax goes up and down the field, asking
for himself.
Achil.
How so?
Ther.
He must fight singly to-morrow with
Hector; and is so prophetically proud of an heroical
cudgelling, that he raves in saying nothing.
Achil.
How can that be?
Ther.
Why, he stalks up and down like a peacock;
a stride, and a stand: ruminates, like an
hostess, that hath no arithmetick but her brain to
set down her reckoning: bites his lip with a politick
regard8 note, 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 knocking9 note
. The man's undone for
ever; for if Hector break not his neck i'the combat,
he'll break it 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 is grown
a very land-fish, languageless, a monster. A plague
of opinion! a man may wear it on both sides, like a
leather jerkin.
Achil.
Thou must be my ambassador to him,
Thersites.
Ther.
Who, I? why, he'll answer nobody; he
professes not answering; speaking is for beggars;
he wears his tongue in his arms1 note
. I will put on his
-- 357 --
presence; let Patroclus make demands* note to me,
you shall see the pageant of Ajax.
Achil.
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.
Do this.
Patr.
Jove bless great Ajax.
Ther.
Humph!
Patr.
I come from the worthy Achilles,—
Ther.
Ha!
Patr.
Who most humbly desires you, to invite
Hector to his tent!—
Ther.
Humph!
Patr.
And to procure safe conduct from Agamemnon.
Ther.
Agamemnon?
Patr.
Ay, my lord.
Ther.
Ha!
Patr.
What say you to't?
Ther.
God be wi' you, with all my heart.
Patr.
Your answer, sir.
Ther.
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.
Patr.
Your answer, sir.
Ther.
Fare you well, with all my heart.
Achil.
Why, but he is not in this tune, is he?
Ther.
No, but he's out o'tune thus. What musick
will be in him when Hector has knocked out
his brains, I know not: But, I am sure, none; unless
-- 358 --
the fiddler Apollo get his sinews to make catlings
on2 note.
Achil.
Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him
straight.
Ther.
Let me bear another to his horse; for
that's the more capable creature3 note
.
Achil.
My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirr'd;
And I myself see not the bottom of it4 note
.
[Exeunt Achilles and Patroclus.
Ther.
'Would the fountain of your mind were
clear again, that I might water an ass at it! I had
rather be a tick in a sheep, than such a valiant
ignorance.
[Exit.
ACT IV.
SCENE I.
Troy. A Street.
Enter, at one side, Æneas, and Servant, with a
Torch; at the other, Paris, Deiphobus, Antenor,
Diomedes, and Others, with Torches.
Par.
See, ho! who's that there?
Dei.
'Tis the lord Æneas.
Æne.
Is the prince there in person?—
Had I so good occasion to lie long,
-- 359 --
As you, prince Paris, nothing but heavenly business
Should rob my bed-mate of my company.
Dio.
That's my mind too.—Good morrow, lord Æneas.
Par.
A valiant Greek, Æneas; take his hand:
Witness the process of your speech, wherein
You told—how Diomed, a whole week by days,
Did haunt you in the field.
Æne.
Health to you, valiant sir5 note,
During all question of the gentle truce6 note
:
But when I meet you arm'd, as black defiance,
As heart can think, or courage execute.
Dio.
The one and other Diomed embraces.
Our bloods are now in calm; and, so long, health;
But when contention and occasion meet,
By Jove, I'll play the hunter for thy life,
With all my force, pursuit, and policy.
Æne.
And thou shalt hunt a lion, that will fly
With his face backward.—In humane gentleness,
Welcome to Troy! now, by Anchises' life,
Welcome, indeed! By Venus' hand I swear7 note
,
No man alive can love, in such a sort,
The thing he means to kill, more excellently.
-- 360 --
Dio.
We sympathize:—Jove, let Æneas live,
If to my sword his fate be not the glory,
A thousand cómplete courses of the sun!
But, in mine emulous honour, let him die,
With every joint a wound; and that to-morrow!
Æne.
We know each other well.
Dio.
We do; and long to know each other worse.
Par.
This is the most despiteful* note gentle greeting,
The noblest hateful love, that e'er I heard of.—
What business, lord, so early?
Æne.
I was sent for to the king; but why, I know not.
Par.
His purpose meets you8 note; '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† note: I fear,
We shall be much unwelcome.
Æne.
That I assure you;
Troilus had rather Troy were borne to Greece,
Than Cressid borne from Troy.
Par.
There is no help;
The bitter disposition of the time
Will have it so. On, lord; we'll follow you.
Æne.
Good morrow, all.
[Exit.
Par.
And tell me, noble Diomed; 'faith, tell me true,
Even in the soul of sound good-fellowship,—
-- 361 --
Who, in your thoughts, merits fair Helen best,
Myself, or Menelaus?
Dio.
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 piece9 note
;
You, like a lecher, out of whorish loins
Are pleas'd to breed out your inheritors:
Both merits pois'd, each weighs nor less nor more;
But he as he, the heavier for a whore1 note
.
Par.
You are too bitter to your countrywoman.
-- 362 --
Dio.
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.
Par.
Fair Diomed, you do as chapmen do,
Dispraise the thing that you desire to buy:
But we in silence hold this virtue well,—
We'll not commend what we intend to sell2 note
.
Here lies our way.
[Exeunt.
-- 363 --
SCENE II.
The Same. Court before the House of Pandarus.
Enter Troilus and Cressida.
Tro.
Dear, trouble not yourself: the morn is cold.
Cres.
Then, sweet my lord, I'll call mine uncle down;
He shall unbolt the gates.
Tro.
Trouble him not;
To bed, to bed: Sleep kill3 note
those pretty eyes,
And give as soft attachment to thy senses,
As infants' empty of all thought4 note
!
Cres.
Good morrow then.
Tro.
Pr'ythee now, to bed.
Cres.
Are you aweary of me?
Tro.
O Cressida! but that the busy day,
Wak'd by the lark, hath rous'd the ribald crows5 note,
And dreaming night will hide our joys6 note no longer,
I would not from thee.
Cres.
Night hath been too brief.
Tro.
Beshrew the witch! with venomous wights7 note she stays,
As tediously8 note
as hell; but flies the grasps of love,
-- 364 --
With wings more momentary-swift than thought.
You will catch cold, and curse me.
Cres.
Pr'ythee, tarry;—
You men will never tarry.—
O foolish Cressid!—I might have still held off,
And then you would have tarried. Hark! there's one up.
Pan. [Within.]
What, are all the doors open
here?
Tro.
It is your uncle.
Enter Pandarus8 note
.
Cres.
A pestilence on him! now will he be mocking:
I shall have such a life,—
Pan.
How now, how now? how go maidenheads?
—Here, you maid! where's my cousin Cressid?
Cres.
Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle!
You bring me to do9 note
, and then you flout me too.
-- 365 --
Pan.
To do what? to do what?—let her say
what: what have I brought you to do?
Cres.
Come, come; beshrew your heart! you'll ne'er be good,
Nor suffer others.
Pan.
Ha, ha! Alas, poor wretch! a poor capocchio1 note
!—hast
not slept to-night? would he not, a
naughty man, let it sleep? a bugbear take him!
[Knocking.
Cres.
Did I not tell you?—'would he were knock'd o'the head!—
Who's that at door? good uncle, go and see.—
My lord, come you again into my chamber:
You smile, and mock me, as if2 note
I meant naughtily.
Tro.
Ha, ha!
Cres.
Come, you are deceiv'd, I think of no such thing.—
[Knocking.
How earnestly they knock!—pray you, come in;
I would not for half Troy have you seen here.
[Exeunt Troilus and Cressida.
Pan. [Going to the door.]
Who's there? what's
-- 366 --
the matter? will you beat down the door? How
now? what's the matter?
Enter Æneas.
Æne.
Good morrow, lord, good morrow.
Pan.
Who's there? my lord Æneas? By my
troth, I knew you not: what news with you so
early?
Æne.
Is not prince Troilus here?
Pan.
Here! what should he do here?
Æne.
Come, he is here, my lord, do not deny
him; it doth import him much, to speak with me.
Pan.
Is he here, say you? 'tis more than I know,
I'll be sworn:—For my own part, I came in late:
What should he do here?
Æne.
Who!—nay, then:—Come, come, you'll
do him wrong ere you are 'ware: You'll be so true
to him, to be false to him: Do not you know of
him, but yet go fetch3 note
him hither; Go.
As Pandarus is going out, enter Troilus.
Tro.
How now? what's the matter?
Æne.
My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you,
My matter is so rash4 note
: There is at hand
Paris your brother, and Deiphobus,
The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor
Deliver'd to us5 note
; and for him forthwith,
Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour,
-- 367 --
We must give up to Diomedes' hand
The lady Cressida.
Tro.
Is it so concluded?
Æne.
By Priam, and the general state of Troy:
They are at hand, and ready to effect it.
Tro.
How my achievements mock me6 note
!
I will go meet them: and, my lord Æneas,
We met by chance; you did not find me here7 note
.
Æne.
Good, good, my lord; the secrets of nature
Have not more gift in taciturnity8 note
.
[Exeunt Troilus and Æneas.
Pan.
Is't possible? no sooner got, but lost? The
devil take Antenor! the young prince will go mad.
-- 368 --
A plague upon Antenor! I would, they had broke's
neck!
Enter Cressida.
Cres.
How now? What is the matter? Who was here?
Pan.
Ah, ah!
Cres.
Why sigh you so profoundly? where's my lord gone?
Tell me, sweet uncle, what's the matter?
Pan.
'Would I were as deep under the earth as
I am above!
Cres.
O the gods!—what's the matter?
Pan.
Pr'ythee, get thee in; 'Would thou had'st
ne'er been born! I knew, thou would'st be his
death:—O poor gentleman!—A plague upon Antenor!
Cres.
Good uncle, I beseech you on my knees,
I beseech you, what's the matter?
Pan.
Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be
gone; thou art 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.
Cres.
O you immortal gods!—I will not go.
Pan.
Thou must.
Cres.
I will not, uncle: I have forgot my father;
I know no touch of consanguinity9 note
;
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 falsehood1 note
,
If ever she leave Troilus! Time, force, and death,
-- 369 --
Do to this body what extremes* note you can;
But the strong base and building of my love2 note
Is as the very center of the earth,
Drawing all things to it.—I'll go in, and weep;—
Pan.
Do, do.
Cres.
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 Troy3 note
.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
The Same. Before Pandarus' House.
Enter Paris, Troilus, Æneas, Deiphobus, Antenor and Diomedes.
Par.
It is great morning4 note; and the hour prefix'd
Of† note her delivery to this valiant Greek
Comes fast upon5 note
:—Good my brother Troilus,
-- 370 --
Tell you the lady what she is to do,
And haste her to the purpose.
Tro.
Walk into her house6 note
;
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.
Par.
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. A Room in Pandarus' House.
Enter Pandarus and Cressida.
Pan.
Be moderate, be moderate.
Cres.
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 it7 note
: How can I moderate it?
-- 371 --
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.
Enter Troilus.
Pan.
Here, here, here he comes.—Ah sweet
ducks!
Cres.
O Troilus! Troilus!
[Embracing him.
Pan.
What a pair of spectacles is here! Let
me embrace too: O heart,—as the goodly saying
is,—
&lblank; o heart, o heavy heart8 note,
Why sigh'st thou without breaking?
where he answers again,
Because thou canst not ease thy smart,
By friendship nor by speaking.
There never was 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?
-- 372 --
Tro.
Cressid, I love thee in so strain'd9 note a purity,
That the blest gods—as angry with my fancy,
More bright in zeal than the devotion which
Cold lips blow to their deities,—take thee from me.
Cres.
Have the gods envy?
Pan.
Ay, ay, ay, ay; 'tis too plain a case.
Cres.
And is it true, that I must go from Troy?
Tro.
A hateful truth.
Cres.
What, and from Troilus too?
Tro.
From Troy, and Troilus.
Cres.
Is it possible?
Tro.
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 other1 note
, 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 them2 note
,
He fumbles up into a loose adieu;
-- 373 --
And scants us with a single famish'd kiss,
Distasted with the salt of broken tears3 note
.
Æne. [Within.]
My lord! is the lady ready?
Tro.
Hark! you are call'd: Some say, the Genius so* note
Cries, Come! to him that instantly must die4 note
.—
Bid them have patience; she shall come anon.
Pan.
Where are my tears? rain, to lay this wind5 note
,
or my heart will be blown up by the root6 note!
[Exit Pandarus.
-- 374 --
Cres.
I must then to the Greeks?
Tro.
No remedy.
Cres.
A woeful Cressid 'mongst the merry Greeks7 note
!
When shall we see again?
Tro.
Hear me, my love: Be thou but true of heart,—
Cres.
I true! how now? what wicked deem is this8 note?
Tro.
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 death9 note 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.
Cres.
O, you shall be expos'd, my lord, to dangers
As infinite as imminent! but, I'll be true.
Tro.
And I'll grow friend with danger. Wear this sleeve.
Cres.
And you this glove. When shall I see you?
Tro.
I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels,
To give thee nightly visitation.
But yet, be true.
Cres.
O heavens!—be true, again?
Tro.
Hear why I speak it, love;
The Grecian youths are full of quality;
-- 375 --
They're loving, well compos'd, with gifts of nature flowing1 note
,
And swelling o'er with arts and exercise;
How novelty may move, and parts with person2 note,
Alas, a kind of godly jealousy
(Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin,)
Makes me afeard.
Cres.
O heavens! you love me not.
Tro.
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 lavolt3 note, 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 cunningly4 note
: but be not tempted.
-- 376 --
Cres.
Do you think, I will?
Tro.
No.
But something may be done, that we will not:
And sometimes we are devils to ourselves,
When we will tempt the frailty of our powers,
Presuming on their changeful potency.
Æne. [Within.]
Nay, good my lord,—
Tro.
Come, kiss; and let us part.
Par. [Within.]
Brother Troilus!
Tro.
Good brother, come you hither;
And bring Æneas, and the Grecian, with you.
Cres.
My lord, will you be true?
Tro.
Who, I? alas, it is my vice, my fault:
While others fish with craft for great opinion,
I with great truth catch mere simplicity5 note;
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 true6 note
,—there's all the reach of it.
Enter Æneas, Paris, Antenor, Deiphobus, and Diomedes.
Welcome, sir Diomed! here is the lady,
Which for Antenor we deliver you:
-- 377 --
At the port7 note
, lord, I'll give her to thy hand;
And, by the way, possess thee what she is8 note
.
Entreat her fair; and, by my soul, fair Greek,
If e'er thou stand at mercy of my sword,
Name Cressid, and thy life shall be as safe
As Priam is in Ilion.
Dio.
Fair lady Cressid,
So please you, save the thanks this prince expects:
The lustre in your eye, heaven in your cheek,
Pleads you fair usage; and to Diomed
You shall be mistress, and command him wholly.
Tro.
Grecian, thou dost not use me courteously,
To shame the zeal of my petition to thee,
In praising her9 note
: I tell thee, lord of Greece,
-- 378 --
She is as far high-soaring o'er thy praises1 note
,
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.
Dio.
O, be not mov'd, prince Troilus:
Let me be privileg'd by my place, and message,
To be a speaker free; when I am hence,
I'll answer to my lust2 note
: And know you, lord,
I'll nothing do on charge: To her own worth
She shall be priz'd; but that you say—be't so,
I'll speak it in my spirit and honour,—no.
Tro.
Come, to the port.—I tell thee3 note
, Diomed,
-- 379 --
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 Diomed.
[Trumpet heard.
Par.
Hark! Hector's trumpet.
Æne.
How have we spent this morning!
The prince must think me tardy and remiss,
That swore to ride before him to the field.
Par.
'Tis Troilus' fault: Come, come, to field with him.
Dei.
Let us make ready straight4 note
.
-- 380 --
Æne.
Yea, with a bridegroom's fresh alacrity,
Let us address to tend on Hector's heels:
The glory of our Troy doth this day lie
On his fair worth, and single chivalry.
[Exeunt.
SCENE V.
The Grecian Camp. Lists set out.
Enter Ajax, armed; Agamemnon, Achilles, Patroclus, Menelaus, Ulysses, Nestor, and others.
Agam.
Here art thou in appointment fresh and fair5 note
,
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 cheek6 note
-- 381 --
Out-swell the colick of puff'd Aquilon:
Come, stretch thy chest, and let thy eyes spout blood;
Thou blow'st for Hector.
[Trumpet sounds.
Ulyss.
No trumpet answers.
Achil.
'Tis but early days.
Agam.
Is not yon Diomed, with Calchas' daughter?
Ulyss.
'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 Diomed, with Cressida.
Agam.
Is this the lady Cressid?
Dio.
Even she.
Agam.
Most dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet lady.
Nest.
Our general doth salute you with a kiss.
Ulyss.
Yet is the kindness but particular;
'Twere better, she were kiss'd in general.
Nest.
And very courtly counsel: I'll begin.—
So much for Nestor.
Achil.
I'll take that winter from your lips, fair lady:
Achilles bids you welcome.
Men.
I had good argument for kissing once.
Patr.
But that's no argument for kissing now:
For thus popp'd Paris in his hardiment;
And parted thus you and your argument.
Ulyss.
O deadly gall, and theme of all our scorns!
For which we lose our heads, to gild his horns.
-- 382 --
Patr.
The first was Menelaus' kiss;—this, mine:
Patroclus kisses you.
Men.
O, this is trim!
Patr.
Paris, and I, kiss evermore for him.
Men.
I'll have my kiss, sir:—Lady, by your leave.
Cres.
In kissing, do you render or receive7 note
?
Patr.
Both take and give8 note.
Cres.
I'll make my match to live9 note
.
The kiss you take is better than you give;
Therefore no kiss.
Men.
I'll give you boot, I'll give you three for one.
Cres.
You're an odd man; give even, or give none.
Men.
An odd man, lady? every man is odd.
Cres.
No, Paris is not; for, you know, 'tis true,
That you are odd, and he is even with you.
Men.
You fillip me o'the head.
Cres.
No, I'll be sworn.
Ulyss.
It were no match, your nail against his horn.—
May I, sweet lady, beg a kiss of you?
Cres.
You may.
Ulyss.
I do desire it.
Cres.
Why, beg then1 note
.
-- 383 --
Ulyss.
Why then, for Venus' sake, give me a kiss,
When Helen is a maid again, and his.
Cres.
I am your debtor, claim it when 'tis due.
Ulyss.
Never's my day, and then a kiss of you2 note
.
Dio.
Lady, a word;—I ll bring you to your father.
[Diomed leads out Cressida.
Nest.
A woman of quick sense.
Ulyss.
Fye, fye upon her!
There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip,
Nay, her foot speaks3 note
; her wanton spirits look out
At every joint and motive of her body4 note
.
O, these encounterers, so glib of tongue,
That give a coasting welcome ere it comes5 note
,
-- 384 --
And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts
To every ticklish reader! set them down
For sluttish spoils of opportunity5 note,
And daughters of the game.
[Trumpet within.
All.
The Trojans' trumpet.
Agam.
Yonder comes the troop.
Enter Hector, armed; Æneas, Troilus, and other Trojans, with Attendants.
Æne.
Hail, all the state* note of Greece! what shall be done
-- 385 --
To him that victory commands6 note
? Or do you purpose,
A victor shall be known? will you, the knights
Shall to the edge of all extremity7 note
Pursue each other; or shall they* note be divided
By any voice or order of the field?
Hector bade ask.
Agam.
Which way would Hector have it?
Æne.
He cares not, he'll obey conditions.
Achil.
'Tis done like Hector; but securely done8 note
,
-- 386 --
A little proudly, and great deal misprizing* note
The knight oppos'd.
Æne.
If not Achilles, sir,
What is your name?
Achil.
If not Achilles, nothing.
Æne.
Therefore Achilles: But, whate'er, know this;—
In the extremity of great and little,
Valour and pride excel themselves in Hector9 note;
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 blood1 note:
In love whereof, half Hector stays at home;
-- 387 --
Half heart, half hand, half Hector comes to seek
This blended knight, half Trojan, and half Greek2 note.
Achil.
A maiden battle then?—O, I perceive you.
Re-enter Diomed.
Agam.
Here is sir Diomed:—Go, gentle knight,
Stand by our Ajax: as you and lord Æneas
Consent upon the order of their fight,
So be it; either to the uttermost,
Or else a breath3 note: the combatants being kin,
Half stints4 note
their strife before their strokes begin.
[Ajax and Hector enter the lists.
Ulyss.
They are oppos'd already.
Agam.
What Trojan is that same that looks so heavy?
Ulyss.
The youngest son of Priam, a true knight;
Not yet mature, yet matchless; firm of word;
Speaking in deeds, and deedless in his tongue5 note;
Not soon provok'd, nor, being provok'd, soon calm'd:
His heart and hand both open, and both free;
For what he has, he gives, what thinks, he shows;
Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty,
Nor dignifies an impair thought6 note
with breath:
-- 388 --
Manly as Hector, but more dangerous;
For Hector, in his blaze of wrath, subscribes
To tender objects7 note
; 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 Æneas; one that knows the youth
Even to his inches, and, with private soul,
Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me8 note
.
Alarum. Hector and Ajax fight.
Agam.
They are in action.
Nest.
Now, Ajax, hold thine own!
Tro.
Hector, thou sleep'st;
Awake thee!
Agam.
His blows are well dispos'd:—there, Ajax!
Dio.
You must no more.
[Trumpets cease.
Æne.
Princes, enough, so please you.
Ajax.
I am not warm yet, let us fight again.
Dio.
As Hector pleases.
Hect.
Why then, will I no more:—
Thou art, great lord, my father's sister's son,
A cousin-german to great Priam's seed;
The obligation of our blood forbids
A gory emulation 'twixt us twain:
Were thy commixtion Greek and Trojan so,
That thou could'st 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
-- 389 --
Bounds-in my father's; by Jove multipotent,
Thou should'st 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'st from thy mother,
My sacred aunt9 note
, 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 addition1 note earned in thy death.
Hect.
Not Neoptolemus so mirable
(On whose bright crest Fame with her loud'st O yes
Cries, This is he,) could promise to himself2 note
-- 390 --
A thought of added honour torn from Hector.
Æne.
There is expectance here from both the sides,
What further you will do.
Hect.
We'll answer it3 note;
The issue is embracement:—Ajax, farewell.
Ajax.
If I might in entreaties find success,
-- 391 --
(As seld I have the chance,) I would desire
My famous cousin to our Grecian tents.
Dio.
'Tis Agamemnon's wish: and great Achilles
Doth long to see unarm'd the valiant Hector.
Hect.
Æneas, 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 knights4 note
.
Ajax.
Great Agamemnon comes to meet us here.
Hect.
The worthiest of them tell me name by name;
But for Achilles, my own searching eyes
Shall find him by his large and portly size.
Agam.
Worthy of arms5 note! 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 integrity6 note,
-- 392 --
From heart of very heart7 note
, great Hector, welcome.
Hect.
I thank thee, most imperious Agamemnon8 note
.
Agam.
My well-fam'd lord of Troy, no less to you.
[To Troilus.
Men.
Let me confirm my princely brother's greeting;
You brace of warlike brothers, welcome hither.
Hect.
Whom must we answer?
Men.
The noble Menelaus9 note
.
Hect.
O you, my lord? by Mars his gauntlet, thanks!
Mock not, that I affect the untraded oath1 note
;
Your quondam wife swears still by Venus' glove:
She's well, but bade me not commend her to you.
Men.
Name her not now, sir; she's a deadly theme.
Hect.
O, pardon; I offend.
Nest.
I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft,
Labouring for destiny, make cruel way
Through ranks of Greekish youth2 note
: and I have seen thee,
-- 393 --
As hot as Perseus, spur3 note thy Phrygian steed,
Despising many forfeits and subduements4 note
,
When thou hast hung thy advanced sword i'the air,
Not letting it decline on the declin'd5 note
;
That I have said to some* note 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† note,
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 grandsire6 note,
And once fought with him: he was a soldier good;
But, by great Mars, the captain of us all,
-- 394 --
Never like thee: Let an old man embrace thee;
And, worthy warrior, welcome to our tents.
Æne.
'Tis the old Nestor7 note
.
Hect.
Let me embrace thee, good old chronicle,
That hast so long walk'd hand in hand with time:—
Most reverend Nestor, I am glad to clasp thee.
Nest.
I would, my arms could match thee in contention,
As they contend8 note with thee in courtesy.
Hect.
I would they could.
Nest.
Ha!
By this white beard, I'd fight with thee to-morrow.
Well, welcome, welcome! I have seen the time—
Ulyss.
I wonder now how yonder city stands,
When we have here her base and pillar by us.
Hect.
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.
Ulyss.
Sir, I foretold you then what would ensue:
My prophecy is but half his journey yet;
For yonder walls, that pertly front your town,
Yon towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds9 note
,
Must kiss their own feet.
-- 395 --
Hect.
I must not believe you:
There they stand yet; and modestly I think,
The fall of every Phrygian stone will cost
A drop of Grecian blood: The end crowns all;
And that old common arbitrator, time,
Will one day end it.
Ulyss.
So to him we leave it.
Most gentle, and most valiant Hector, welcome:
After the general, I beseech you next
To feast with me, and see me at my tent.
Achil.
I shall forestall thee, lord Ulysses, thou1 note
!—
-- 396 --
Now, Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee2 note;
I have with exact view perus'd thee, Hector,
And quoted joint by joint3 note
.
Hect.
Is this Achilles?
Achil.
I am Achilles.
Hect.
Stand fair, I pray thee: let me look on thee.
Achil.
Behold thy fill.
Hect.
Nay, I have done already.
Achil.
Thou art too brief; I will the second time,
As I would buy thee* note, view thee limb by limb.
Hect.
O, like a book of sport thou'lt read me o'er;
But there's more in me than thou understand'st.
Why dost thou so oppress me with thine eye?
Achil.
Tell me, you heavens, in which part of his body
Shall I destroy him? whether there, there, or there?
That I may give the local wound a name;
And make distinct the very breach, whereout
-- 397 --
Hector's great spirit flew: Answer me, heavens!
Hect.
It would discredit the bless'd gods, proud man,
To answer such a question: Stand again:
Think'st thou to catch my life so pleasantly,
As to prenominate in nice conjecture,
Where thou wilt hit me dead?
Achil.
I tell thee, yea.
Hect.
Wert thou an oracle* note 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 helm4 note
,
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 him5 note
.
-- 398 --
Hect.
I pray you, let us see you in the field;
We have had pelting wars6 note
, since you refus'd
The Grecians' cause.
Achil.
Dost thou entreat me, Hector?
To-morrow, do I meet thee, fell as death;
To-night, all friends.
Hect.
Thy hand upon that match.
Agam.
First, all you peers of Greece, go to my tent;
There in the full convive7 note we: afterwards,
As Hector's leisure and your bounties shall
Concur together, severally entreat him.—
Beat loud the tabourines8 note
, let the trumpets blow,
That this great soldier may his welcome know9 note
.
[Exeunt all but Troilus and Ulysses.
Tro.
My lord Ulysses, tell me, I beseech you,
In what place of the field doth Calchas keep?
Ulyss.
At Menelaus' tent, most princely Troilus:
There Diomed doth feast with him to-night;
Who neither looks upon the heaven, nor earth* note,
-- 399 --
But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view
On the fair Cressid.
Tro.
Shall I, sweet lord, be bound to you so much,
After we part from Agamemnon's tent,
To bring me thither?
Ulyss.
You shall command me, sir.
As gentle* note tell me, of what honour was
This Cressida in Troy? Had she no lover there
That wails her absence?
Tro.
O, sir, to such as boasting show their scars,
A mock is due. Will you walk on, my lord?
She was belov'd, she lov'd; she is, and doth:
But, still, sweet love is food for fortune's tooth.
[Exeunt.
ACT V.
SCENE I.
The Grecian Camp. Before Achilles' Tent.
Enter Achilles and Patroclus.
Achil.
I'll heat his blood with Greekish wine to-night,
Which with my scimitar I'll cool to-morrow1 note
.—
Patroclus, let us feast him to the height2 note
.
Patr.
Here comes Thersites.
-- 400 --
Enter Thersites.
Achil.
How now, thou core* note of envy?
Thou crusty batch of nature3 note
, what's the news?
Ther.
Why, thou picture of what thou seemest,
and idol of idiot-worshippers, here's a letter for
thee.
Achil.
From whence, fragment?
Ther.
Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy.
Patr.
Who keeps the tent now?
Ther.
The surgeon's box4 note, or the patient's wound.
Patr.
Well said, Adversity5 note! and what need
these tricks?
Ther.
Pr'ythee be silent, boy; I profit not by
thy talk: thou art thought to be Achilles' male
varlet.
-- 401 --
Patr.
Male varlet6 note
, you rogue! what's that?
Ther.
Why, his masculine whore. Now the
rotten diseases of the south, the guts-griping, ruptures,
catarrhs, loads o'gravel i'the back, lethargies,
cold palsies7 note, raw eyes, dirt-rotten livers, wheezing
lungs, bladders full of imposthume, sciaticas, lime-kilns
i'the palm, incurable bone-ach, and the rivelled
fee-simple of the tetter, take and take again such
preposterous discoveries!
Patr.
Why thou damnable box of envy, thou,
what meanest thou to curse thus?
Ther.
Do I curse thee?
Patr.
Why, no, you ruinous butt8 note
; you whoreson
indistinguishable cur9 note, no.
-- 402 --
Ther.
No? why art thou then exasperate, thou
idle immaterial skein of sleive* note silk1 note
, 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 water-flies2 note
; diminutives of nature3 note
!
Patr.
Out, gall4 note!
Ther.
Finch egg5 note
!
Achil.
My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite
From my great purpose in to-morrow's battle.
Here is a letter from queen Hecuba;
A token from her daughter, my fair love6 note;
Both taxing me, and gaging me to keep
An oath that I have sworn. I will not break it:
-- 403 --
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.
Ther.
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 ear-wax: And the goodly
transformation of Jupiter there, his brother, the
bull,—the primitive statue, and oblique memorial of
cuckolds7 note
; a thrifty shoeing-horn in a chain, hanging
at his brother's leg* note,—to what form, but that
he is, should wit larded with malice, and malice
forced† note with wit8 note
, turn him to? To an ass, were
nothing: he is both ass and ox: to an ox were
-- 404 --
nothing; he is both ox and ass. To be a dog, a
mule, a cat, a fitchew9 note, 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 fires1 note!
Enter Hector, Troilus, Ajax, Agamemnon, Ulysses, Nestor, Menelaus, and Diomed, with Lights.
Agam.
We go wrong, we go wrong.
Ajax.
No, yonder 'tis;
There, where we see the lights.
Hect.
I trouble you.
Ajax.
No, not a whit.
Ulyss.
Here comes himself to guide you.
Enter Achilles.
Achil.
Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, princes all.
Agam.
So now, fair prince of Troy, I bid good night.
Ajax commands the guard to tend on you.
-- 405 --
Hect.
Thanks, and good night, to the Greeks' general.
Men.
Good night, my lord.
Hect.
Good night, sweet lord Menelaus2 note.
Ther.
Sweet draught3 note
: Sweet, quoth 'a! sweet
sink, sweet sewer.
Achil.
Good night, at once, and welcome, both to those
That go, or tarry.
Agam.
Good night.
[Exeunt Agamemnon and Menelaus.
Achil.
Old Nestor tarries; and you too, Diomed,
Keep Hector company an hour or two.
Dio.
I cannot, lord; I have important business,
The tide whereof is now.—Good night, great Hector.
Hect.
Give me your hand.
Ulyss.
Follow his torch, he goes
To Calchas' tent; I'll keep you company.
[Aside to Troilus.
Tro.
Sweet sir, you honour me.
Hect.
And so good night.
[Exit Diomed; Ulysses and Troilus following.
Achil.
Come, come, enter my tent.
[Exeunt Achilles, Hector, Ajax, and Nestor.
Ther.
That same Diomed's a false-hearted rogue,
a most unjust knave;I will no more trust him when
he leers, than I will a serpent when he hisses: he
will spend his mouth, and promise, like Brabler the
hound4 note; but when he performs, astronomers foretell
-- 406 --
it; it is prodigious5 note
, 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
drab6 note, 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.
Dio.
What are you up here, ho? speak.
Cal. [Within.]
Who calls?
Dio.
Diomed.—Calchas, I think.—Where's your
daughter?
Cal. [Within.]
She comes to you.
Enter Troilus and Ulysses, at a distance; after them Thersites.
Ulyss.
Stand where the torch may not discover us.
Enter Cressida.
Tro.
Cressid comes forth to him.
Dio.
How now, my charge?
Cres.
Now, my sweet guardian!—Hark! a word with you.
[Whispers.
Tro.
Yea, so familiar!
Ulyss.
She will sing any man at first sight7 note.
-- 407 --
Ther.
And any man may sing her, if he can
take her cliff8 note
; she's noted.
Dio.
Will you remember?
Cres.
Remember? yes.
Dio.
Nay, but do then9 note; and let your mind be
coupled with your words.
Tro.
What should she remember?
Ulyss.
List!
Cres.
Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly.
Ther.
Roguery!
Dio.
Nay, then,—
Cres.
I'll tell you what:
Dio.
Pho! pho! come, tell a pin: You are forsworn* note.—
Cres.
In faith, I cannot: What would you have me do?
Ther.
A juggling trick, to be—secretly open.
Dio.
What did you swear you would bestow on me?
Cres.
I pr'ythee, do not hold me to mine oath;
-- 408 --
Bid me do any thing but that, sweet Greek.
Dio.
Good night.
Tro.
Hold, patience!
Ulyss.
How now, Trojan?
Cres.
Diomed,—
Dio.
No, no, good night: I'll be your fool no more.
Tro.
Thy better must.
Cres.
Hark! one word in your ear.
Tro.
O plague and madness!
Ulyss.
You are mov'd, 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.
Tro.
Behold, I pray you!
Ulyss.
Now, good my lord, go off:
You flow to great destruction1 note
; come, my lord.
Tro.
I pr'ythee, stay.
Ulyss.
You have not patience; come.
Tro.
I pray you, stay; by hell, and all hell's torments,
I will not speak a word.
-- 409 --
Dio.
And so, good night.
Cres.
Nay, but you part in anger.
Tro.
Doth that grieve thee?
O wither'd truth!
Ulyss.
Why, how now, lord?
Tro.
By Jove,
I will be patient.
Cres.
Guardian!—why, Greek!
Dio.
Pho, pho! adieu; you palter2 note
.
Cres.
In faith, I do not; come hither once again.
Ulyss.
You shake, my lord, at something; will you go?
You will break out.
Tro.
She strokes his cheek!
Ulyss.
Come, come.
Tro.
Nay, stay; by Jove, I will not speak a word:
There is between my will and all offences
A guard of patience:—stay a little while.
Ther.
How the devil luxury, with his fat rump,
and potatoe finger, tickles these together3 note 10Q0013! Fry,
lechery, fry!
Dio.
But will you then?
Cres.
In faith, I will, la: never trust me else.
Dio.
Give me some token for the surety of it.
Cres.
I'll fetch you one.
[Exit.
Ulyss.
You have sworn patience.
Tro.
Fear me not, my lord* note;
I will not be myself, nor have cognition
Of what I feel; I am all patience.
-- 410 --
Re-enter Cressida.
Ther.
Now the pledge; now, now, now!
Cres.
Here, Diomed, keep this sleeve4 note
.
-- 411 --
Tro.
O beauty! where's thy faith?
Ulyss.
My lord,—
Tro.
I will be patient; outwardly I will.
Cres.
You look upon that sleeve; Behold it well.—
He loved me—O false wench!—Give't me again.
Dio.
Who was't?
Cres.
It is no matter, now5 note I have't again.
I will not meet with you to-morrow night:
I pr'ythee, Diomed, visit me no more.
Ther.
Now she sharpens;—Well said, whetstone.
Dio.
I shall have it6 note.
Cres.
What, this?
Dio.
Ay, that.
Cres.
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 thee7 note
.—Nay, do not snatch it from me;
He, that takes that, must take my heart withal.
Dio.
I had your heart before, this follows it.
Tro.
I did swear patience.
Cres.
You shall not have it, Diomed; 'faith you shall not;
I'll give you something else.
Dio.
I will have this; Whose was it?
Cres.
'Tis no matter.
Dio.
Come, tell me whose it was.
-- 412 --
Cres.
'Twas one's that loved me better than you will.
But, now you have it, take it.
Dio.
Whose was it?
Cres.
By all Diana's waiting-women yonder8 note
,
And by herself, I will not tell you whose.
Dio.
To-morrow will I wear it on my helm;
And grieve his spirit, that dares not challenge it.
Tro.
Wert thou the devil, and wor'st it on thy horn,
It should be challeng'd.
Cres.
Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis past;—And yet it is not;
I will not keep my word.
Dio.
Why then, farewell;
Thou never shalt mock Diomed again.
Cres.
You shall not go:—One cannot speak a word,
But it straight starts you.
Dio.
I do not like this fooling.
Ther.
Nor I, by Pluto9 note: but that that likes not
you, pleases me best.
Dio.
What, shall I come? the hour?
-- 413 --
Cres.
Ay, come:—O Jove!—
Do come:—I shall be plagu'd.
Dio.
Farewell till then.
Cres.
Good night. I pr'ythee, come.—
[Exit Diomedes.
Troilus, farewell1 note
! one eye yet looks on thee;
But with my heart the other eye doth see2 note
.
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 Cressida.
Ther.
A proof of strength she could not publish more3 note,
Unless she said, My mind is now turn'd whore.
Ulyss.
All's done, my lord.
Tro.
It is.
Ulyss.
Why stay we then?
Tro.
To make a recordation to my soul
-- 414 --
Of every syllable that here was spoke.
But, if I tell how these two did co-act* note,
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 ears4 note;
As if those organs had deceptious functions,
Created only to calumniate.
Was Cressid here?
Ulyss.
I cannot conjure, Trojan5 note.
Tro.
She was not sure.
Ulyss.
Most sure she was6 note
.
Tro.
Why, my negation hath no taste of madness.
Ulyss.
Nor mine, my lord: Cressid was here but now.
Tro.
Let it not be believ'd for womanhood7 note!
Think, we had mothers; do not give advantage
To stubborn criticks—apt, without a theme,
For depravation8 note
,—to square the general sex
By Cressid's rule: rather think this not Cressid.
Ulyss.
What hath she done, prince, that can soil our mothers?
-- 415 --
Tro.
Nothing at all, unless that this were she.
Ther.
Will he swagger himself out on's own eyes?
Tro.
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 itself9 note
,
This was not she. O madness of discourse,
That cause sets up with and against itself1 note!
Bi-fold authority2 note
! where reason can revolt
Without perdition, and loss assume all reason
Without revolt3 note
; this is, and is not, Cressid!
Within my soul there doth commence a fight4 note
Of this strange nature, that a thing inseparate5 note
-- 416 --
Divides more wider6 note
than the sky and earth;
And yet the spacious breadth of this division
Admits no orifice for a point, as subtle
As Ariachne's broken woof, to enter7 note
.
-- 417 --
Instance, O instance! strong as Pluto's gates;
Cressid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven:
Instance, O instance! strong as heaven itself;
The bonds of heaven are slipp'd, dissolv'd, and loos'd;
And with another knot, five-finger-tied8 note
,
The fractions of her faith, orts of her love,
The fragments, scraps, the bits, and greasy reliques
Of her o'er-eaten faith, are bound* note to Diomed9 note
.
Ulyss.
May worthy Troilus1 note be half attach'd
-- 418 --
With that which here his passion doth express?
Tro.
Ay, Greek; and that shall be divulged well
In characters as red as Mars his heart
Inflam'd with Venus: never did young man fancy
With so eternal and so fix'd a soul.
Hark, Greek;—As much as I do Cressid love,
So much by weight hate I her Diomed:
That sleeve is mine, that he'll bear on* note his helm;
Were it a casque compos'd by Vulcan's skill,
My sword should bite it2 note
: not the dreadful spout,
Which shipmen do the hurricano call3 note
Constring'd in mass by the almighty sun† note,
Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptune's ear
in his descent, than shall my prompted sword
Falling on Diomed.
Ther.
He'll tickle it for his concupy4 note.
Tro.
O Cressid! O false Cressid! false, false, false!
Let all untruths stand by thy stained name,
And they'll seem glorious.
Ulyss.
O, contain yourself;
Your passion draws ears hither.
-- 419 --
Enter Æneas.
Æne.
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.
Tro.
Have with you, prince:—My courteous lord adieu:—
Farewell, revolted fair!—and, Diomed,
Stand fast, and wear a castle on thy head5 note
!
Ulyss.
I'll bring you6 note
to the gates.
Tro.
Accept distracted thanks.
[Exeunt Troilus, Æneas, and Ulysses.
Ther.
'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
them7 note
!
[Exit.
-- 420 --
SCENE III.
Troy. Before Priam's Palace.
Enter Hector and Andromache.
And.
When was my lord so much ungently temper'd,
To stop his ears against admonishment?
Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to-day.
Hect.
You train me to offend you; get you in:
By all the everlasting gods, I'll go.
And.
My dreams will, sure, prove ominous to the day8 note
.
Hect.
No more, I say.
-- 421 --
Enter Cassandra.
Cas.
Where is my brother Hector?
And.
Here, sister; arm'd, and bloody in intent:
Consort with me in loud and dear petition9 note
,
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.
Cas.
O, 'tis true.
Hect.
Ho! bid my trumpet sound!
Cas.
No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet brother.
Hect.
Begone, I say; the gods have heard me swear.
Cas.
The gods are deaf to hot and peevish1 note
vows;
They are polluted offerings, more abhorr'd
Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.
And.
O! be persuaded: Do not count it holy
To hurt by being just: it is as lawful,
For we would give much, to use violent thefts2 note
,
And rob in the behalf of charity.
-- 422 --
Cas.
It is the purpose3 note that makes strong the vow;
But vows, to every purpose, must not hold:
Unarm, sweet Hector.
Hect.
Hold you still, I say;
Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate4 note
:
Life every man holds dear; but the dear man5 note
Holds honour far more precious-dear than life.—
Enter Troilus.
How now, young man? mean'st thou to fight to-day?
-- 423 --
And.
Cassandra, call my father to persuade.
[Exit Cassandra.
Hect.
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.
Tro.
Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you,
Which better fits a lion6 note
, than a man.
Hect.
What vice is that, good Troilus? chide me for it.
Tro.
When many times the captive Grecians fall,
Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword,
You bid them rise, and live7 note
.
Hect.
O, 'tis fair play.
-- 424 --
Tro.
Fool's play, by heaven, Hector.
Hect.
How now? how now?
Tro.
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.
Hect.
Fye, savage, fye!
Tro.
Hector, then 'tis wars8 note
.
Hect.
Troilus, I would not have you fight to-day.
Tro.
Who should withhold me?
Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars
Beckoning with fiery truncheon9 note
my retire;
Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees,
Their eyes o'ergalled with recourse of tears1 note
;
Nor you, my brother, with your true sword drawn,
Oppos'd to hinder me, should stop my way,
But by my ruin* note.
-- 425 --
Re-enter Cassandra, with Priam.
Cas.
Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him fast:
He is thy crutch; now if thou lose thy stay,
Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee,
Fall all together.
Pri.
Come, Hector, come, go back:
Thy wife hath 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.
Hect.
Æneas is a-field;
And I do stand engag'd to many Greeks,
Even in the faith of valour, to appear
This morning to them.
Pri.
Aye, but thou shalt not go.
Hect.
I must not break my faith.
You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sir,
Let me not shame respect2 note; but give me leave
To take that course by your consent and voice,
Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam.
Cas.
O Priam, yield not to him.
And.
Do not, dear father.
Hect.
Andromache, I am offended with you:
Upon the love you bear me, get you in.
[Exit Andromache.
Tro.
This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl
Makes all these bodements.
Cas.
O farewell, dear Hector3 note.
Look, how thou diest! look, how thy eye turns pale!
Look, how thy wounds do bleed at many vents!
-- 426 --
Hark, how Troy roars! how Hecuba cries out!
How poor Andromache shrills her dolours4 note
forth!
Behold, destruction, frenzy, and amazement5 note,
Like witless anticks, one another meet,
And all cry—Hector! Hector's dead! O Hector!
Tro.
Away!—Away!—
Cas.
Farewell.—Yet, soft:—Hector, I take my leave:
Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive.
[Exit.
Hect.
You are amaz'd, my liege, at her exclaim:
Go in, and cheer the town: we'll forth, and fight;
Do deeds worth praise, and tell you them at night.
Pri.
Farewell: the gods with safety stand about thee!
[Exeunt severally Priam and Hector. Alarums.
Tro.
They are at it; hark! Proud Diomed, believe,
I come to lose my arm, or win my sleeve6 note
.
-- 427 --
As Troilus is going out, enter, from the other side, Pandarus.
Pan.
Do you hear, my lord? do you hear?
Tro.
What now?
Pan.
Here's a letter from yon' poor girl.
Tro.
Let me read.
Pan.
A whoreson ptisick, a whoreson rascally
ptisick 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 cursed7 note, I cannot
tell what to think on't.—What says she there?
Tro.
Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart;
[Tearing the letter.
The effect doth operate another way,—
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.
-- 428 --
SCENE IV.
Between Troy and the Grecian Camp.
Alarums: Excursions. Enter Thersites.
Ther.
Now they are clapper-clawing one another;
I'll go look on. That dissembling abominable
varlet, Diomed, has got that same scurvy doting
foolish young knave's sleeve of Troy there, in his
helm: I would fain see them meet; that that same
young Trojan ass, that loves the whore there, might
send that Greekish whoremasterly villain, with the
sleeve, back to the dissembling luxurious drab, of
a sleeveless errand. O' the other side, The policy
of those crafty swearing rascals8 note
,—that stale old
mouse-eaten dry cheese, Nestor; and that same
dog-fox, Ulysses,—is not proved worth a blackberry:
—They set me up, in policy, that mongrel
cur, Ajax, against that dog of as bad a kind,
Achilles: and now is the cur Ajax prouder than the
cur Achilles, and will not arm to-day; whereupon
the Grecians begin to proclaim barbarism9 note, and
policy grows into an ill opinion. Soft! here comes
sleeve, and t'other.
-- 429 --
Enter Diomedes, Troilus following.
Tro.
Fly not; for, shouldst thou take the river Styx,
I would swim after.
Dio.
Thou dost miscall retire:
I do not fly; but advantageous care
Withdrew me from the odds of multitude:
Have at thee!
Ther.
Hold thy whore, Grecian!—now for thy
whore, Trojan!—now the sleeve, now the sleeve!
[Exeunt Troilus and Diomedes, fighting.
Enter Hector.
Hect.
What art thou, Greek? art thou for Hector's match?
Art thou of blood, and honour1 note
?
Ther.
No, no:—I am a rascal; a scurvy railing
knave; a very filthy rogue.
Hect.
I do believe thee;—live.
[Exit
Ther.
God-a-mercy, that thou wilt believe me;
-- 430 --
But a plague break thy neck, for frighting me!
What's become of the wenching rogues? I think,
they have swallowed one another: I would laugh at
that miracle. Yet, in a sort, lechery eats itself.
I'll seek them.
[Exit.
SCENE V.
The Same.
Enter Diomedes and a Servant.
Dio.
Go, go, my servant, take thou Troilus' horse2 note
;
Present the fair steed to my lady Cressid:
Follow, commend my service to her beauty;
Tell her, I have chastis'd the amorous Trojan,
And am her knight by proof.
Serv.
I go, my lord.
[Exit Servant.
Enter Agamemnon.
Agam.
Renew, renew! The fierce Polydamus
Hath beat down Menon3 note: bastard Margarelon4 note
-- 431 --
Hath Doreus prisoner;
And stands colossus-wise, waving his beam5 note
,
Upon the pashed6 note
corses of the kings
Epistrophus and Cedius: Polixenes is slain;
Amphimachus, and Thoas, deadly hurt;
Patroclus ta'en, or slain; and Palamedes
Sore hurt and bruis'd: the dreadful Sagittary
Appals our numbers7 note
; haste we, Diomed,
To reinforcement, or we perish all.
-- 432 --
Enter Nestor.
Nest.
Go, bear Patroclus' body to Achilles;
And bid the snail-pac'd Ajax arm for shame.—
There is a thousand Hectors in the field:
Now here he fights on Galathe his horse8 note
,
And there lacks work; anon, he's there afoot,
And there they fly, or die, like scaled sculls9 note
-- 433 --
Before the belching whale1 note
; then is he yonder,
And there the strawy Greeks2 note, ripe for his edge,
Fall down before him, like the mower's swath3 note
:
Here, there, and every where, he leaves, and takes;
Dexterity so obeying appetite,
-- 434 --
That what he will, he does; and does so much,
That proof is call'd impossibility.
Enter Ulysses.
Ulyss.
O, courage, courage, princes! great Achilles
Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance:
Patroclus' wounds have rous'd his drowsy blood,
Together with his mangled Myrmidons,
That noseless, handless, hack'd and chipp'd, come to him,
Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend,
And foams at mouth,and he is arm'd, and at it,
Roaring for Troilus; who hath done to-day
Mad and fantastick 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.
Dio.
Ay, there, there.
Nest.
So, so, we draw together4 note.
Enter Achilles.
Achil.
Where is this Hector?
Come, come, thou boy-queller5 note, show thy face;
-- 435 --
Know what it is to meet Achilles angry.
Hector! where's Hector? I will none but Hector.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VI.
Another Part of the Field.
Enter Ajax.
Ajax.
Troilus, thou coward Troilus, show thy head!
Enter Diomedes.
Dio.
Troilus, I say! where's Troilus?
Ajax.
What would'st thou?
Dio.
I would correct him.
Ajax.
Were I the general, thou should'st have my office,
Ere that correction:—Troilus, I say! what, Troilus!
Enter Troilus.
Tro.
O traitor Diomed!—turn thy false face, thou traitor,
And pay thy life thou ow'st me for my horse!
Dio.
Ha! art thou there?
Ajax.
I'll fight with him alone: stand, Diomed.
Dio.
He is my prize, I will not look upon6 note
.
Tro.
Come both, you cogging Greeks7 note
; have at you both.
[Exeunt, fighting.
-- 436 --
Enter Hector.
Hect.
Yea, Troilus? O, well fought, my youngest brother!
Enter Achilles.
Achil.
Now do I see thee: Ha!—Have at thee, Hector.
Hect.
Pause, if thou wilt.
Achil.
I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Trojan.
Be happy, that my arms are out of use:
My rest and negligence befriend thee now,
But thou anon shalt hear of me again;
Till when, go seek thy fortune.
[Exit.
Hect.
Fare thee well:—
I would have been much more a fresher man,
Had I expected thee.—How now, my brother?
Re-enter Troilus.
Tro.
Ajax hath ta'en Æneas; Shall it be?
No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven8 note
,
He shall not carry him9 note
; I'll be ta'en too,
-- 437 --
Or bring him off:—Fate, hear me what I say!
I reck not though I end* note my life to-day.
[Exit.
Enter one in sumptuous Armour.
Hect.
Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou art a goodly mark:—
No? wilt thou not?—I like thy armour well2 note
;
-- 438 --
I'll frush it3 note
, 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.
-- 439 --
SCENE VII.
The Same.
Enter Achilles, with Myrmidons.
Achil.
Come here about me, you my Myrmidons;
Mark what I say.—Attend me where I wheel:
Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath:
And when I have the bloody Hector found,
Empale him with your weapons round about;
In fellest manner execute your arms4 note
.
Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye:—
It is decreed—Hector the great must die.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VIII.
The Same.
Enter Menelaus and Paris, fighting: then Thersites.
Ther.
The cuckold, and the cuckold-maker are
at it: Now, bull! now, dog! 'Loo, Paris, 'loo!
-- 440 --
now my double-henned sparrow! 'loo, Paris, 'loo!
The bull has the game:—'ware horns, ho!
[Exeunt Paris and Menelaus.
Enter Margarelon.
Mar.
Turn, slave, and fight.
Ther.
What art thou?
Mar.
A bastard son of Priam's5 note
.
Ther.
I am a bastard too; I love bastards: I am
a bastard begot, bastard instructed, bastard in mind,
bastard in valour, in everything illegitimate. One
bear will not bite another, and wherefore should one
bastard? Take heed, the quarrel's most ominous to
us: if the son of a whore fight for a whore, he
tempts judgment: Farewell, bastard.
Mar.
The devil take thee, coward!
[Exeunt.
SCENE IX.
Another Part of the Field.
Enter Hector.
Hect.
Most putrified core, so fair without,
Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life.
Now is my day's work done; I'll take good breath:
Rest, sword; thou hast thy fill of blood and death!
[Puts off his Helmet, and hangs his Shield behind him.
Enter Achilles and Myrmidons.
Achil.
Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set;
-- 441 --
How ugly night comes breathing at his heels:
Even with the vail6 note
and dark'ning of the sun,
To close the day up, Hector's life is done.
Hect.
I am unarm'd; forego this vantage, Greek.
Achil.
Strike, fellows, strike7 note
; this is the man I seek.
[Hector falls.
So, Ilion, fall thou next* note! now, Troy† note, sink down;
Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone.—
-- 442 --
On, Myrmidons; and cry you all amain,
Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain9 note
[A Retreat sounded.
Hark! a retreat upon our Grecian part.
Myr.
The Trojan trumpets sound the like, my lord.
Achil.
The dragon wing of night1 note o'erspreads the earth,
And, stickler like2 note
, the armies separates.
-- 443 --
My half-supp'd sword3 note
, that frankly would have fed,
Pleas'd with this dainty bit, thus goes to bed.—
[Sheaths his Sword.
Come, tie his body to my horse s tail;
Along the field I will the Trojan trail4 note.
[Exeunt.
SCENE X.
The Same.
Enter Agamemnon, Ajax, Menelaus, Nestor, Diomedes, and Others, marching. Shouts within.
Agam.
Hark! hark! what shout is that?
Nest.
Peace, drums.
-- 444 --
[Within.]
Achilles!
Achilles! Hector's slain! Achilles!
Dio.
The bruit is—Hector's slain, and by Achilles.
Ajax.
If it be so, yet bragless let it be;
Great Hector was as good a man* note as he.
Agam.
March patiently along:—Let one be sent
To pray Achilles see us at our tent.—
If in his death the gods have us befriended,
Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are ended.
[Exeunt, marching.
SCENE XI.
Another Part of the Field.
Enter Æneas and Trojans.
Æne.
Stand, ho! yet are we masters of the field:
Never go home; here starve we out the night5 note.
Enter Troilus.
Tro.
Hector is slain.
All.
Hector?—The gods forbid!
Tro.
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 Troy6 note
!
-- 445 --
I say, at once let your brief plagues be mercy,
And linger not our sure destructions on!
Æne.
My lord, you do discomfort all the host.
Tro.
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 wives7 note
,
Cold8 note 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 pight9 note
upon our Phrygian plains,
-- 446 --
Let Titan rise as early as he dare,
I'll through and through you!—And thou, great-siz'd coward!
No space of earth shall sunder our two hates;
I'll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still,
That mouldeth goblins swift as frenzy thoughts.—
Strike a free march to Troy!—with comfort go:
Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe1 note
.
[Exeunt Æneas and Trojans.
As Troilus is going out, enter, from the other side, Pandarus.
Pan.
But hear you, hear you!
Tro.
Hence, broker lackey2 note
! ignomy and shame3 note
Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name!
[Exit Troilus.
-- 447 --
Pan.
A goodly med'cine 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 loved4 note, 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 cloths5 note.
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 Winchester6 note
would hiss:
-- 448 --
Till then I'll sweat7 note, and seek about for eases;
And, at that time, bequeath you my diseases.
[Exit8.
