Helen, attended.
Pan.
Fair be to you, my Lord, and to all this fair
company! fair Desires in all fair measure fairly guide
them; especially to you, fair queen, fair thoughts be
your fair pillow!
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 broken 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.
-- 466 --
Par.
Well said, my Lord; well, you say so in fits.
Pan.
I have business to my Lord, dear Queen. My
Lord, will you vouchsafe me a word?
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—
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. * noteAnd, my Lord, he desires you, 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.
Helen.
You must not know where he sups.
Par.
I'll lay my life, 9 note
with my disposer Cressida.
-- 467 --
Pan.
No, no, no such matter, you are wide; come
your disposer is sick.
Par.
Well, I'll make excuse.
Pan.
Ah, good my Lord, why should you say,
Cressida? No, your poor disposer's sick.
Par.
I spy—
Pan.
You spy, what do you spy? Come, give me
an instrument. Now, sweet Queen.
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
three.
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, 1 notesweet
Lord, thou hast a fine fore-head.
Pan.
Ay, you may, you may—
Helen.
Let thy song be love: this love will undo us
all. Oh, 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 love, still more.
For O, love's bow
Shoots buck and doe;
The shaft confounds,
Not that it wounds,
But tickles still the sore.
These lovers cry,
Oh! Oh! they die,
-- 468 --
2 note
Yet that, which seems the wound to kill,
Doth turn, oh! oh! to ha, ha, he:
So dying love lives still.
O ho, a while; but ha, ha, ha;
O ho groans out for ha, ha, ha—hey ho!
Helen.
In love, i'faith, to the very tip of the nose!
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 are
love.
Pan.
Is this the generation of love? hot blood, hot
thoughts, and hot deeds? Why, they are vipers; is
love a generation of vipers?—Sweet Lord, who's afield
to-day?
Par.
Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all
the gallantry of Troy. I would fain have arm'd to-day,
but my Nell would not have it so. How chance
my brother Troilus went not?
Helen.
He hangs the lip at something. You know
all, Lord Pandarus.
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.
Farewel, sweet Queen.
Helen.
Commend me to your niece.
Pan.
I will, sweet Queen.
[Exit. Sound a Retreat.
Par.
They're come from field. Let us to Priam's Hall,
-- 469 --
To greet the warriors. Sweet Helen, I must woo you
To help unarm our Hector; his stubborn buckles,
With these your white enchanting fingers toucht,
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, over-shines ourself.
Paris.
Sweet. Above thought I love her.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
An Orchard to Pandarus's House.
Enter Pandarus, and Troilus's Man.
Pan.
Now, where's thy master? at my cousin Cressida's?
Serv.
No, Sir, he stays for you to conduct him thither.
Enter Troilus.
Pan.
O, here he comes. How now, how now?
Troi.
Sirrah, walk off.
Pan.
Have you seen my cousin?
Troi.
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.
-- 470 --
Pan.
Walk here i' th' orchard. I will bring her straight.
[Exit Pandarus.
Troi.
I'm giddy; expectation whirls me round;
Th' 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, 3 note
tun'd too sharp in sweetness,
For the capacity of my ruder powers;
I fear it much, and I do fear besides,
That I shall lose distinction in my joys;
As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps
The flying enemy.
Re-enter Pandarus.
Pan.
She's making her ready, she'll come straight.
You must be witty now. She does so blush, and
fetches her wind so short, as if she were fraid with a
sprite. I'll bring her. It is the prettiest villain. She
fetches her breath as short as a new-ta'en sparrow.
[Exit Pandarus.
Troi.
Ev'n such a passion doth embrace my bosom:
My heart beats thicker than a fev'rous pulse;
And all my pow'rs do their bestowing lose,
Like vassalage at unawares encountring
The eye of Majesty.
SCENE IV.
Enter Pandarus and Cressida.
Pan.
Come, come; what need you blush? Shame's
a baby. Here she is now. Swear the oaths now to
-- 471 --
her, that you have sworn to me. What, are you gone
again? you must be watch'd ere you be made tame,
must you? Come your ways, come your ways; if you
draw backward, 4 notewe'll put you i' th' files.—Why do
you not speak to her? Come, draw this curtain, and
let's see your picture. [Snatching her mask.] Alas
the day, how loth you are to offend day-light? an
'twere dark, you'd close sooner. So, so, rub on, and
kiss the Mistress. How now, a kiss in fee-farm? Build
there, carpenter, the air is sweet. Nay, you shall
fight your hearts out, ere I part you. 5 noteThe faulcon
as the tercel, for all the ducks i' th' river. Go to, go
to.
Troi.
You have bereft me of all words, lady.
Pan.
Words pay no debts, give her deeds: but
she'll bereave you of deeds too, if she call your activity
in question. What, billing again? here's, in witness
whereof the parties interchangeably—Come in,
come in, I'll go get a fire.
[Exit Pandarus.
Cre.
Will you walk in, my Lord?
Troi.
O Cressida, how often have I wisht me thus?
Cre.
Wisht, my Lord! the Gods grant—O my
Lord.
Troi.
What should they grant? what makes this
pretty abruption? what too curious dreg espies my
sweet lady in the fountain of our love?
Cre.
More dregs than water, if my fears have eyes.
Troi.
Fears make devils of cherubins, they never see
truly.
Cre.
Blind fear, which seeing reason leads, finds safer
-- 472 --
footing than blind reason stumbling without fear. To
fear the worst, oft cures the worse.
Troi.
O, let my lady apprehend no fear; in all Cupid's
Pageant there is presented no monster.
Cre.
Nor nothing monstrous neither?
Troi.
Nothing, but our Undertakings; when we
vow to weep seas, live in fire, eat rocks, tame tygers;
thinking it harder for our mistress to devise imposition
enough, than for us to undergo any difficulty imposed.
This is the monstrosity in love lady, that the will is
infinite, and the execution confin'd; that the desire is
boundless, and the act a slave to limit.
Cre.
They say, all lovers swear more performance
than they are able; and yet reserve an ability, that
they never perform: vowing more than the perfection
of ten, and discharging less than the tenth part of one.
They that have the voice of lions, and the act of
hares, are they not monsters?
Troi.
Are there such? such are not we. Praise us
as we are tasted, allow us as we prove: 6 noteour head shall
go bare, 'till merit crown it; no perfection in reversion
shall have a praise in present; we will not name
desert before his birth, and, being born, 7 notehis addition
shall be humble; few words to fair faith. Troilus shall
be such to Cressida, as what envy can say worst, shall
be a mock for his truth; and what truth can speak
truest, not truer than Troilus.
Cre.
Will you walk in, my Lord?
-- 473 --
SCENE V.
Enter Pandarus.
Pan.
What, blushing still? Have you not done talking
yet?
Cre.
Well, uncle, what folly I commit, I dedicate
to you.
Pan.
I thank you for that; if my Lord get a boy
of you, you'll give him me. Be true to my Lord; if
he flinch, chide me for it.
Troi.
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 woo'd, they are
constant, being won. They are burrs, I can tell you,
they'll stick where they are thrown.
Cre.
Boldness comes to me now, and brings me heart.
Prince Troilus, I have lov'd you night and day,
For many weary months.
Troi.
Why was my Cressid then so hard to win?
Cre.
Hard to seem won; but I was won, my Lord,
With the first glance that ever—Pardon me—
If I confess much; you will play the tyrant.
I love you now; but not till now, so much
But I might master it—in faith, I lye—
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 wisht 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
-- 474 --
Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws
My very soul of counsel. Stop my mouth.
Troi.
And shall, albeit sweet musick issues thence.
[Kissing.
Pan.
Pretty, i'faith.
Cre.
My Lord, I do beseech you, pardon me;
'Twas not my purpose thus to beg a kiss.
I am asham'd;—O heavens, what have I done?—
For this time will I take my leave, my Lord.
Troi.
Your leave, sweet Cressid?
Pan.
Leave! an you take leave till to-morrow morning—
Cre.
Pray you, content you.
Troi.
What offends you, lady?
Cre.
Sir, mine own company.
Troi.
You cannot shun yourself.
Cre.
Let me go and try.
I have a kind of self resides with you:
But an unkind self, that itself will leave,
To be another's fool. Where is my wit?
I would be gone. I speak, I know not what.
Troi.
Well know they what they speak, that speak so wisely.
Cre.
Perchance, my Lord, I shew more craft than love,
And fell so roundly to a large confession,
To angle for your thoughts: 8 note
but you are wise,
Or else you love not; to be wise and love,
Exceeds man's might, that dwells with Gods above.
-- 475 --
Troi.
O, that I thought it could be in a woman,
As, if it can, I will presume in you,
To feed for ay her lamp and flames of love,
To keep her constancy in plight and youth
Out-living Beauties outward; with a mind
That doth renew swifter than blood decays!
Or, that persuasion could but thus convince me,
That my integrity and truth to you
9 noteMight be affronted with the match and weight
Of such a winnow'd purity in love;
How were I then up-lifted! but alas,
I am as true as Truth's simplicity,
1 noteAnd simpler than the infancy of truth.
Cre.
In that I'll war with you.
Troi.
O virtuous fight!
When Right with Right wars who shall be most right.
True swains in love shall in the world to come
Approve their truths by Troilus; when their rhymes,
Full of protest, of oath, and big compare,
Want similes: truth, tir'd with iteration,
As true as steel, as 2 note
Plantage to the Moon,
-- 476 --
As Sun to day, as turtle to her mate,
As iron to adamant, as earth to th' center,
Yet after all comparisons of truth,
3 note
As truth's authentick author to be cited
As true as Troilus, shall crown up the verse,
And sanctify the numbers.
Cre.
Prophet may you be!
If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth,
When time is old and hath forgot itself,
When water-drops have worn the stones of Troy,
And blind Oblivion swallow'd Cities up,
And mighty States characterless are grated
To dusty Nothing; yet let Memory,
From false to false, among false maids in love,
Upbraid my falshood! when they've said, as false
As air, as water, as wind, as sandy earth,
As fox to lamb, as wolf to heifer's calf,
Pard to the hind, or step dame to her son;
Yea, let them say, to stick the heart of falshood,
As false as Cressid.—
Pan.
Go to, a bargain made. Seal it, seal it, I'll be
the witness.—Here I hold your hand; here my cousin's.
If ever you prove false to one another, since I
have taken such pains to bring you together, let all
pitiful Goers-between be call'd to the world's end after
my name; call them all Pandars. Let all 4 noteinconstant
men be Troilus's, all false women Cressida's, and all
brokers between Pandars. Say, Amen.
-- 477 --
Troi.
Amen!
Cre.
Amen!
Pan.
Amen. Whereupon I will shew you a bedchamber;
which bed, because it shall not speak of
your pretty encounters, press it to death. Away.
And Cupid grant all tongue-ty'd maidens here,
Bed, chamber, and Pandar to provide this Geer!
[Exeunt.
SCENE VI.
Changes to the Grecian Camp.
Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Diomedes, Nestor, Ajax, Menelaus, and Calchas.
Cal.
Now, Princes, for the service I have done you,
Th' advantage of the time prompts me aloud
To call for recompence. 5 note
Appear it to your mind
-- 478 --
That, 6 note
through the sight I bear in things, to Jove
I have abandon'd Troy, left my possession,
-- 479 --
Incurr'd a traitor's name, expos'd myself,
From certain and possest conveniences,
To doubtful fortunes; sequestring from me all
That time, acquaintance, custom, and condition,
Made tame and most familiar to my nature,
And here, to do you service, am become
As new into the world, strange, unacquainted.
I do beseech you, as in way of taste,
To give me now a little benefit,
Out of those many registred in promise,
Which, you say, live to come in my behalf.
Aga.
What wouldst thou of us, Trojan? make demand.
Cal.
You have a Trojan prisoner, call'd Antenor,
Yesterday took: Troy holds him very dear.
Oft have you, often have you thanks therefore,
Desir'd my Cressid in right-great exchange,
Whom Troy hath still deny'd; but this Antenor,
I know, is such a wrest in their affairs,
That their negotiations all must slack,
Wanting his manage, and they will almost
Give us a Prince o' th' 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,
7 note
In most accepted pain.
-- 480 --
Aga.
Let Diomedes bear him,
And bring us Cressid hither; Calchas shall have
What he requests of us. Good Diomede,
Furnish you fairly for this enterchange;
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.
SCENE VII.
Enter Achilles and Patroclus, before their Tent.
Ulys.
Achilles stands i' th' 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 him;
If so, I have 8 notederision medicinable
To use between your strangeness and his pride,
Which his own will shall have desire to drink;
It may do good; Pride hath no other glass
To shew itself, but pride; for supple knees
Feed arrogance, and are the proud man's fees.
Aga.
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.
Aga.
What says Achilles? Would he aught with us?
-- 481 --
Nest.
Would you, my Lord, aught with the General?
Achil.
No.
Nest.
Nothing, my Lord.
Aga.
The better.
Achil.
Good day, good day.
Men.
How do you? how do you?
Achil.
What, does the cuckold scorn me?
Ajax.
How now, Patroclus?
Achil.
Good-morrow, Ajax.
Ajax.
Ha?
Achil.
Good morrow.
Ajax.
Ay, and good next day too.
[Exeunt.
Achil.
What mean these fellows? Know they not Achilles?
Patr.
They pass by strangely. They were us'd to bend,
To send their smiles before them to Achilles,
To come as humbly as they us'd to creep
To holy altars.
Achil.
What, am I poor of late?
'Tis certain, Greatness, once fall'n out with fortune,
Must fall out with men too; what the declin'd is,
He shall as soon read in the eyes of others,
As feel in his own Fall; for men, like butterflies,
Shew not their mealy wings but to the summer,
And not a man, for being simply man,
Hath any honour, but honour by those honours
That are without him, as place, riches, favour,
Prizes of accident as oft as merit,
Which, when they fall, (as being slipp'ry standers)
The love that lean'd on them, as slipp'ry too,
Doth one pluck down another, and together
Die in the Fall. But 'tis not so with me;
Fortune and I are friends, I do enjoy
At ample point all that I did possess,
Save these men's looks! who do, methink, find out
-- 482 --
Something in me not worth that rich beholding,
As they have often giv'n. Here is Ulysses.
I'll interrupt his reading.—How now, Ulysses?
Ulys.
Now, great Thetis' son!
Achil.
What are you reading?
Ulys.
A strange fellow here
Writes me, that man, 9 note
how dearly ever parted,
How much in Having, or without, or in,
Cannot make boast to have that which he hath,
Nor feels not what he owes, but by reflection;
As when his virtues shining upon others
Heat them, and they retort that heat again
To the first giver.
Achil.
This is not strange, Ulysses.
The beauty that is borne here in the face
The bearer knows not, but commends itself
1 note
To others' eyes: nor doth the eye itself.
That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself
Not going from itself; but eyes oppos'd
Salute each other with each other's form.
For speculation turns not to itself,
'Till it hath travell'd, and is marry'd there
Where it may see its self. This is not strange at all.
Ulys.
I do not strain at the position,
It is familiar, but the author's drift;
Who, 2 notein his circumstance, expresly proves
That no man is the Lord of any thing,
Tho' in, and of, him there be much consisting,
-- 483 --
'Till he communicate his parts to others;
Nor doth he of himself know them for aught
'Till he behold them form'd in their applause
Where they're extended, who, like an arch, reverb'rate
The voice again; or like, a gate of steel
Fronting the Sun, receives and renders back
His figure and his heat. I was much rapt in this,
And apprehended here immediately
3 noteThe unknown Ajax;
Heav'ns! what a man is there? a very horse,
That has he knows not what. Nature! what things there are,
Most abject in regard, and dear in use?
What things again most dear in the esteem,
And poor in worth? Now shall we see to-morrow
An act, that very Chance doth throw upon him.
Ajax renown'd! Oh heav'ns, what some men do,
While some men leave to do!
4 note
How some men creep in skittish Fortune's Hall,
While others play the ideots in her eyes!
How one man eats into another's pride,
While pride is 5 notefeasting in his wantonness!
To see these Grecian Lords! why ev'n already
-- 484 --
They clap the lubber Ajax on the shoulder,
As if his foot were on brave Hector's breast,
And great Troy shrinking.
Achil.
I do believe it;
For they pass'd by me, as misers do by beggars,
Neither gave to me good wotd, nor good look.
What! are my deeds forgot!
Ulys.
6 noteTime hath, my Lord, a wallet at his back,
Wherein he puts alms for Oblivion.
A great siz'd monster, of ingratitudes,
Those scraps are good deeds past, which are devour'd
As fast as they are made, forgot as soon
As done: 7 note
Perseverance keeps Honour bright:
To have done, is to hang quite out of fashion,
Like rusty nail in monumental mockery.
For honour travels in a streight 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 forth-right,
Like to an entred tide, they all rush by,
And leave you hindermost; 8 noteand there you lie,
Like to a gallant horse fall'n in first rank,
For pavement 9 note
to the abject rear, 1 note
o'er run
And trampled on: Then what they do in present,
Tho' less than yours in past, must o'er-top yours.
-- 485 --
For Time is like a fashionable host,
That slightly shakes his parting guest by th' hand;
But with his arms out-stretch'd, as he would fly,
Grasps in the comer. For Welcome ever smiles,
And Farewel goes out sighing. O, let not virtue seek
Remuneration for the thing it was;
2 note
For beauty, wit, high birth, 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,
Tho' they are made and moulded of things past;
3 note
And shew to dust, that is a little gilt,
More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.
The present eye praises the present object;
Then marvel not, thou great and complete man,
That all the Greeks begin to worship Ajax;
Since things in motion sooner catch the eye,
Than what not stirs. The Cry went once on thee,
And still it might, and yet it may again,
If thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive,
And case thy reputation in thy tent;
Whose glorious deeds, but in these fields of late,
-- 486 --
4 note
Made emulous missions 'mongst the Gods themselves,
And drave great Mars to faction.
Achil.
Of this my privacy
I have strong reasons.
Ulys.
'Gainst your privacy
The reasons are more potent and heroical.
'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love
With one of Priam's daughters.
Achil.
Ha! known!
Ulys.
Is that a wonder?
The providence, that's in a watchful state,
5 note
Knows almost every grain of Pluto's Gold;
Finds bottom in th' uncomprehensive Deep;
6 noteKeeps place with thought; and almost, like the Gods,
Does thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles.
There is a mystery, 7 note
with which relation
Durst never meddle, in the Soul of State;
Which hath an operation more divine,
Than breath, or pen, can give expressure to.
All the commerce that you have had with Troy
As perfectly is ours, as yours, my Lord;
And better would it fit Achilles much,
To throw down Hector, than Polyxena.
But it must grieve young Pyrrhus now at home,
When Fame shall in our islands sound her trump;
And all the Greekish girls shall tripping sing,
Great Hector's sister did Achilles win;
-- 487 --
But our great Ajax bravely beat down him.
Farewel, my Lord. I, as your lover, speak;
The fool slides o'er the ice, that you should break.
[Exit.
SCENE VIII.
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 act.—I stand condemn'd for this;
They think, my little stomach to the war,
And your great love to me, restrains you thus.
Sweet, rouse yourself; and the weak wanton Cupid
Shall from your neck unloose his am'rous fold,
And, like a dew-drop from the lion's mane,
Be shook 8 note
to air.
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'd.
Patr.
O then beware:
Those wounds heal ill, that men do give themselves.
9 noteOmission to do what is necessary
Seals a Commission to a Blank of Danger,
And danger, like an ague, subtly taints
Even then, when we sit idly in the Sun.
Achil.
Go call Thersites hither, sweet Patroclus;
I'll send the fool to Ajax, and desire him
T'invite the Trojan Lords, after the Combat,
To see us here unarm'd. I have a woman's Lon
An appetite that I am sick withal,
-- 488 --
To see great Hector in the Weeds of peace;
To talk with him, and to behold his visage,
SCENE IX.
Enter Thersites.
Ev'n to my full of view.—A labour sav'd!
Ther.
A wonder!
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 1 notewith a politick regard, as
who should say, there were wit in this head, if 'twou'd
out; and so there is, but it lies as coldly in him as fire
in a flint, which will not shew without knocking.
The man's undone for ever; for if Hector break not
his neck i'th' combat, he'll break't himself in vain-glory.
He knows not me. I said, Good-morrow,
Ajax; and he replies, Thanks, Agamemnon. What
think you of this man, that takes me for the General?
He's grown a very land-fish, language-less, a monster.
A plague of opinion! a man may wear it on both
sides, like a leather Jerkin.
Achil.
Thou must be my ambassador to him, Thersites.
Ther.
Who, I?—why, he'll answer no body; he
-- 489 --
professes not answering; speaking is for beggars. He
wears his tongue in's arms. I will put on his presence;
let Patroclus make his demands to me, you shall see the
Pageant of Ajax.
Achil.
To him, Patroclus. Tell him, I humbly
desire the valiant Ajax, to invite the most valorous
Hector to come unarm'd to my tent, and to procure
safe Conduct for his Person of the magnanimous and
most illustrious, six or seven times honour'd, captain-general,
of the Grecian army, Agamemnon, &c. Do
this.
Patr.
Jove bless great Ajax!
Ther.
Hum—
Patr.
I come from the worthy Achilles.
Ther.
Ha!
Patr.
Who most humbly desires you to invite Hector
to his Tent.
Ther.
Hum—
Patr.
And to procure safe conduct from Agamemnon.
Ther.
Agamemnon!—
Patr.
Ay, my Lord.
Ther.
Ha!
Patr.
What 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 ye 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 knock'd out his
brains, I know not; but, I am sure, none; unless
the fidler Apollo get his sinews to make Catlings on.
Achil.
Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight.
-- 490 --
Ther.
Let me carry another to his horse; for that's
the more capable creature.
Achil.
My mind is troubled like a fountain stirr'd,
And I myself see not the bottom of it.
[Exit.
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.
[Exeunt.
Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].
