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.
James Boswell [1821], The plays and poems of William Shakspeare, with the corrections and illustrations of various commentators: comprehending A Life of the Poet, and an enlarged history of the stage, by the late Edmond Malone. With a new glossarial index (J. Deighton and Sons, Cambridge) [word count] [S10201].
