Introductory matter
A never writer, to an ever reader. Newes.
Preface to the quarto edition of this play, 1609.
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
braine, that never under-tooke any thing commicall, vainley: and
were but the vaine names of commedies changde for the titles of
commodities, or of playes of 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 think 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
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, Trojan.
Hector, Trojan.
Troilus, Trojan.
Paris, Trojan.
Deiphobus, Trojan.
Helenus, Trojan.
Æneas [Aeneas], Trojan.
Pandarus, Trojan.
Calchas Trojan.
Antenor, Trojan.
Margarelon, a bastard son of Priam.
Agamemnon, Greek.
Achilles, Greek.
Ajax, Greek.
Menelaus, Greek.
Ulysses, Greek.
Nestor, Greek.
Diomedes, Greek.
Patroclus, Greek.
Thersites, Greek.
Helen, wife to Menelaus.
Andromache, wife to Hector.
Cassandra, daughter to Priam, a prophetess.
Cressida, daughter to Calchas.
Alexander, Cressida's servant.
Boy, page to Troilus.Servant to Diomed [Servant 3].
Trojan and Greek Soldiers, with other attendants.[Servant 1], [Servant 2], [Myrmidon], [Soldier], [Trojans]SCENE, Troy, and the Grecian Camp before it.
PROLOGUE.
In Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of Greece
The princes1note
orgillous, their high blood chaf'd,
Have to the port of Athens sent their ships
Fraught with the ministers and instruments
Of cruel war: Sixty and nine, that wore
Their crownets regal, from 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: 2note
Priam's six-gated city
(Dardan, and Thymbria, Ilias, Chetas, Troyan,
And Antenoridas) with massy staples,
Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits,
On one and other side, Trojan and Greek,
Sets all on hazard:—And hither am I come
4noteA prologue arm'd,—but not in confidence
Of author's pen, or actor's voice; but suited
In like conditions as our argument,—
To tell you, fair beholders, that our play
Leaps o'er 5notethe vaunt and firstlings of those broils,
'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.
-- --
ACT I.SCENE I.TROY.Priam's palace.Enter Pandarus, and Troilus.
Troi.
The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their strength,
Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant;
But I am weaker than a woman's tear,
-- 10 --
Tamer than sleep, 4notefonder than ignorance;
Less valiant than the virgin in the night,
5noteAnd skill-less 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.9Q0997
Troi.
Have I not tarry'd?
Pan.
Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the
boulting.
Troi.
Have I not tarry'd?
Pan.
Ay, the boulting; but you must tarry the
leavening.
Troi.
Still have I tarry'd.
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.
Troi.
Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be,
Doth lesser blench6note
at sufferance than I do.
At Priam's royal table do I sit;
And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts,—
So, traitor!—when she comes!—When is she thence?9Q0998
Pan.
Well, she look'd yester-night fairer than ever I
saw her look; or any woman else.
-- 11 --
Troi.
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 storm9Q0999)
Bury'd this sigh in wrinkle of a smile:
But sorrow, that is couch'd in seeming gladness,
Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness.
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—
Troi.
O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus,—
When I do tell thee, There my hopes lie drown'd,
Reply not in how many fathoms deep
They lie indrench'd. I tell thee, I am mad
In Cressid's love: Thou answer'st, She is fair;
Pour'st in the open ulcer of my heart
Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait; her voice
Handlest in thy discourse:—O that her hand!
In whose comparison9Q1000 all whites are ink,
Writing their own reproach; to whose soft seizure
The cygnet's down is harsh, 7note
and spirit of sense
Hard as the palm of ploughman! This thou tell'st me,
-- 12 --
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.
Troi.
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, 8note
she has the mends in her own hands.
Troi.
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.
Troi.
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.
Troi.
Say I, she is not fair?
Pan.
I do not care whether you do or no. She's a
fool, to stay behind her father; let her to the Greeks;
and so I'll tell her, the next time I see her: for my
part, I'll meddle nor make no more in the matter.
Troi.
Pandarus,—
Pan.
Not I.
-- 13 --
Troi.
Sweet Pandarus,—
Pan.
Pray you, speak no more to me; I will leave
all as I found it, and there an end.
[Exit Pandarus.[Sound alarum.
Troi.
Peace, you ungracious clamours! peace, rude sounds!
Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair,
When with your blood you daily paint her thus.
I cannot fight upon this argument;
It is too starv'd a subject for my sword.
But Pandarus—O gods, how do you plague me!
I cannot come to Cressid, but by Pandar;
And he's as teachy to be woo'd to woo,
As she is stubborn-chaste against all suit.
Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne's love,
What Cressid is, what Pandar, and what we?
Her bed is India; there she lies, a pearl:
Between our Ilium, and where she resides,
Let it be call'd the wild and wandering flood;
Ourself, the merchant; and this sailing Pandar,
Our doubtful hope, our convoy, and our bark. [Alarum.] Enter Æneas.
Æne.
How now, prince Troilus? wherefore not afield?
Troi.
Because not there; This woman's answer sorts,
For womanish it is to be from thence.
What news, Æneas, from the field to-day?
Æne.
That Paris is returned home, and hurt.
Troi.
By whom, Æneas?
Æne.
Troilus, by Menelaus.
Troi.
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!
Troi.
Better at home, if would I might, were may.—
But, to the sport abroad;—Are you bound thither?
-- 14 --
Æne.
In all swift haste.
Troi.
Come, go we then together. [Exeunt.SCENE II.A street.Enter Cressida, and Alexander her servant.
Cre.
Who were those went by?
Serv.
Queen Hecuba, and Helen.
Cre.
And whither go they?
Serv.
Up to the eastern tower,
Whose height commands as subject all the vale,
To see the battle. 9note
Hector, whose patience
Is, as a virtue, fix'd, to-day was mov'd:
He chid Andromache, and struck his armourer;
And, like as there were husbandry in war,
1note
Before the sun rose, he was harness'd light,
-- 15 --
And to the field goes he; where every flower
Did, as a prophet, weep what it foresaw
In Hector's wrath.
Cre.
What was his cause of anger?
Serv.
The noise goes, this: There is among the Greeks
-- 16 --
A lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Hector;
They call him, Ajax.
So do all men; unless they are drunk, sick,
or have no legs.
Serv.
This man, lady, hath robb'd many beasts of
their particular additions; he is as valiant as the lion,
churlish as the bear, slow as the elephant: a man into
whom nature hath so crowded humours, 3notethat his
valour is crushed into folly, his folly sauced with discretion:
there is no man hath a virtue, that he hath not
a glimpse of; nor any man an attaint, but he carries
some stain of it: he is melancholy without cause, and
merry against the hair4note: He hath the joints of every
thing; but every thing so out of joint, that he is a
gouty Briareus, many hands and no use; or purblinded
Argus, all eyes and no sight.
Cre.
But how should this man, that makes me
smile, make Hector angry?
Serv.
They say, he yesterday cop'd Hector in the
battle, and struck him down; the disdain and shame
whereof hath ever since kept Hector fasting and
waking.
-- 17 --
Enter Pandarus.
Cre.
Who comes here?
Serv.
Madam, your uncle Pandarus.
Cre.
Hector's a gallant man.
Serv.
As may be in the world, lady.
Pan.
What's that? what's that?
Cre.
Good morrow, uncle Pandarus.
Pan.
1noteGood morrow, cousin Cressid: What do
you talk of?—Good morrow, Alexander.—How do
you, cousin? When were you at 2noteIlium?
Cre.
This morning, uncle.
Pan.
What were you talking of, when I came?
Was Hector arm'd, and gone, ere ye came to Ilium?
Helen was not up, was she?
Cre.
Hector was gone; but Helen was not up.
Pan.
E'en so; Hector was stirring early.
Cre.
That were we talking of, and of his anger.
Pan.
Was he angry?
Cre.
So he says here.
-- 18 --
Pan.
True, he was so; I know the cause too; he'll
lay about him to-day, I can tell them that: and there's
Troilus will not come far behind him; let them take
heed of Troilus; I can tell them that too.
Cre.
What, is he angry too?
Pan.
Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better man of the two.
Cre.
O, Jupiter! there's no comparison.
Pan.
What, not between Troilus and Hector? Do
you know a man, if you see him?
Cre.
Ay; if I ever saw him before, and knew him.
Pan.
Well, I say, Troilus is Troilus.
Cre.
Then you say as I say; for, I am sure, he is
not Hector.
Pan.
No, nor Hector is not Troilus, in some degrees.
Cre.
'Tis just to each of them; he is himself.
Pan.
Himself? Alas, poor Troilus! I would, he
were,—
Cre.
So he is.
Pan.
—'Condition, I had gone bare-foot to India.
Cre.
He is not Hector.
Pan.
Himself? no, he's not himself.—'Would 'a
were himself! Well, the gods are above; Time must
friend, or end: Well, Troilus, well,—I would, my
heart were in her body!—No, Hector is not a better
man than Troilus.
Cre.
Excuse me.
Pan.
He is elder.
Cre.
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 wit this year.
Cre.
He shall not need it, if he have his own.
Pan.
Nor his qualities.
Cre.
No matter.
Pan.
Nor his beauty.
Cre.
'Twould not become him, his own's better.
-- 19 --
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.
Cre.
No, but brown.
Pan.
'Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown.
Cre.
To say the truth, true and not true.
Pan.
She prais'd his complexion above Paris.
Cre.
Why, Paris hath colour enough.
Pan.
So he has.
Cre.
Then, Troilus should have too much: if she
prais'd him above, his complexion is higher than his;
he having colour enough, and the other higher, is too
flaming a praise for a good complexion. I had as
lieve, Helen's golden tongue had commended Troilus
for a copper nose.
Pan.
I swear to you, I think, Helen loves him
better than Paris.
But, to prove to you that Helen loves him;—
she came, and puts me her white hand to his cloven
chin,—
Cre.
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.
Cre.
O, he smiles valiantly.
Pan.
Does he not?
Cre.
O, yes; an 'twere a cloud in autumn.
Pan.
Why, go to then:—But, to prove to you
that Helen loves Troilus,—
Cre.
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.
Cre.
If you love an addle egg as well as you love
an idle head, you would eat chickens i' the shell.
Pan.
I cannot chuse but laugh, to think how she
tickled his chin;—Indeed, she has a marvellous white
hand, I must needs confess.
Cre.
Without the rack.
Pan.
And she takes upon her to spy a white hair
on his chin.
Cre.
Alas, poor chin! many a wart is richer.
Pan.
But, there was such laughing;—Queen Hecuba
laugh'd, that her eyes ran o'er.
Cre.
With mill-stones.
Pan.
And Cassandra laugh'd.
Cre.
But there was more temperate fire under the
pot of her eyes;—Did her eyes run o'er too?
Pan.
And Hector laugh'd.
Cre.
At what was all this laughing?
-- 21 --
Pan.
Marry, at the white hair that Helen spied on
Troilus' chin.
Cre.
An't had been a green hair, I should have
laugh'd too.
Pan.
They laugh'd not so much at the hair, as at
his pretty answer.
Cre.
What was his answer?
Pan.
Quoth she, Here's but one and fifty hairs on yourchin, and one of them is white.
Cre.
This is her question.
Pan.
That's true; make no question of that. 6noteOneand fifty hairs, quoth he, and one white: That white hairis 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 blush'd,
and Paris so chaf'd, and all the rest so laugh'd, that
it pass'd.
Cre.
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.
Cre.
So I do.
Pan.
I'll be sworn, 'tis true; he will weep you, an
'twere a man born in April.
[Sound a retreat.
Cre.
And I'll spring up in his tears, an 'twere a
nettle against May.
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.
Cre.
At your pleasure.
Pan.
Here, here, here's an excellent place; here
we may see most bravely: I'll tell you them all by
-- 22 --
their names, as they pass by; but mark Troilus above
the rest.
Æneas passes over stage.
Cre.
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.
That's Antenor; he has a shrewd wit, I can
tell you; and he's a man good enough: he's one o' the
soundest judgment in Troy, whosoever; and a proper
man of person:—When comes Troilus?—I'll shew
you Troilus anon; if he see me, you shall see him
nod at me.
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?
Cre.
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:
laying on; take't off who will, as they say: there be
hacks!
Cre.
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
-- 24 --
man too, is't not?—Why, this is brave now.—
Who said, he came home hurt to-day? he's not hurt:
why, this will do Helen's heart good now. Ha!
'would I could see Troilus now!—you shall see Troilus
anon.
Cre.
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.
Cre.
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.
Cre.
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!
Cre.
Peace, for shame, peace!
Pan.
Mark him; note him;—O brave Troilus!—
look well upon him, niece; look you, how his sword
is bloody'd, and his helm more hack'd than Hector's9note
;
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,
-- 25 --
I warrant, Helen, to change, would give 1notean eye to
boot.
Enter soldiers, &c.
Cre.
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.
Cre.
There is among the Greeks, Achilles; a better
man than Troilus.
Pan.
Achilles? a dray-man, a porter, a very camel.
Cre.
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?
Cre.
Ay, a minc'd man: and then to be bak'd
with no date in the pye2note
,—for then the man's date is
out.
Pan.
You are such a woman! one knows not at
what ward you lie.
my wit, to defend my wiles; upon my secrecy, to
defend mine honesty; my mask, to defend my beauty;
and you, to defend all these: and at all these
wards I lie, at a thousand watches.
Pan.
Say one of your watches.
Cre.
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.
Good boy, tell him I come [Exit Boy]: I
doubt he be hurt.—Fare ye well, good niece.
Cre.
Adieu, uncle.
Pan.
I'll be with you, niece, by and by.
Cre.
To bring, uncle,—
Pan.
Ay, a token from Troilus.
Cre.
By the same token—you are a bawd.—
[Exit Pandarus.
Words, vows, gifts, tears, and love's full sacrifice,
He offers in another's enterprize:
But more in Troilus thousand fold I see
Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be;
Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing;
Things won are done, 5note
joy's soul lies in the doing:
-- 27 --
That she belov'd knows nought, that knows not this,—
Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is:
6noteThat she was never yet, that ever knew
Love got so sweet, as when desire did sue:
Therefore this maxim out of love I teach,—
Atchievement is, command; ungain'd, beseech:
7noteThen though 8notemy heart's content firm love doth bear,
Nothing of that shall from mine eyes appear.
[Exeunt.SCENE III.The Grecian camp.Trumpets. Enter Agamemnon, Nestor, Ulysses, Menelaus, with 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 conflux of meeting sap,
Infect the sound pine, and divert his grain
Tortive and errant from his course of growth.
Nor, princes, is it matter new to us,
That we come short of our suppose so far,
That, after seven years' siege, yet Troy walls stand;
Sith every action that hath gone before,
Whereof we have record, trial did draw
Bias and thwart, not answering the aim,
And that unbodied figure of the thought
-- 28 --
That gav't surmised shape. Why then, you princes,
Do you with cheeks abash'd behold our works;
And think them shames, which are, indeed, nought else
But the protractive trials of great Jove,
To find persistive constancy in men?
The fineness of which metal is not found
In fortune's love: for then, the bold and coward,
The wise and fool, the artist and unread,
The hard and soft, seem all affin'd and kin:
But, in the wind and tempest of her frown,
Distinction, with a 9notebroad and powerful fan,
Puffing at all, winnows the light away;
And what hath mass, or matter, by itself
Lies, rich in virtue, and unmingled.
With due observance of thy godlike seat,
Great Agamemnon, 2note
Nestor shall apply
Thy latest words. In the reproof of chance
Lies the true proof of men: The sea being smooth,
How many shallow bauble boats dare sail
Upon her 3note
patient breast, making their way
With those of nobler bulk?
But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage
The gentle Thetis, and, anon, behold
The strong-ribb'd bark through liquid mountains cut,
Bounding between the two moist elements,
Like Perseus' horse: Where's then the saucy boat,
Whose weak untimber'd sides but even now
Co-rival'd greatness? either to harbour fled,
Or made a toast for Neptune. Even so
Doth valour's shew, and valour's worth, divide
In storms of fortune: For, in her ray and brightness,
The herd hath more annoyance by the brize5note
,
Than by the tyger: but when splitting winds
Make flexible the knees of knotted oaks,
And flies flee under shade, Why, then, 6notethe thing of courage,
As rowz'd with rage, with rage doth sympathize,
And with an accent tun'd in self-same key,
7noteReturns to chiding fortune.
-- 30 --
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 stretcht-out life,—
[To Nestor.
I give to both your 8note
speeches,—which were such,
-- 31 --
As Agamemnon9Q1002 and the hand of Greece
Should hold up high in brass; and such again,
-- 32 --
As venerable Nestor, hatch'd in silver,
Should with a bond of air9Q1003 (strong as the axle-tree
On which heaven rides) knit all the Greekish ears
To his experienc'd tongue,—yet let it please both,—
Thou great,—and wise,—to hear Ulysses speak.
9noteAgam.
Speak prince of Ithaca; and be't of less expect
That matter needless, of importless burden,
Divide thy lips; than we are confident,
When rank Thersites opes his mastiff jaws,
We shall hear music, wit, and oracle.
Ulyss.
Troy, yet upon her basis, had been down,
And the great Hector's sword had lack'd a master,
But for these instances.
1noteThe specialty of rule hath been neglected;
And, look, how many Grecian tents do stand
Hollow upon this plain, so many hollow factions.
2noteWhen that the general is not like the hive,
To whom the foragers shall all repair,
What honey is expected? Degree being vizarded,
The unworthiest shews as fairly in the mask.
3note
The heavens themselves, the planets, and this center,
-- 33 --
Observe degree, priority, and place,
Insisture, course, proportion, season, form,
Office, and custom, in all line of order:
And therefore is the glorious planet, Sol,
In noble eminence enthron'd and spher'd
Amidst the other; whose med'cinable eye
Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil,
And posts, like the commandment of a king,
Sans check, to good and bad: 4note
But, when the planets,
-- 34 --
In evil mixture, to disorder wander,
What plagues, and what portents? what mutiny?
What raging of the sea? shaking of earth?
Commotion in the winds? frights, changes, horrors,
Divert and crack, rend and deracinate
The unity and married calm of states5note
Quite from their fixure? 6note
O, when degree is shak'd,
Which is the ladder to all high designs,
7note
The enterprize is sick! How could communities,
Degrees in schools, and 8notebrotherhoods in cities,
Peaceful commerce from dividable shores,
The primogenitive and due of birth,
Prerogative of age, crowns, scepters, laurels,
But by degree, stand in authentic place?
Take but degree away, untune that string,
And, hark, what discord follows! each thing meets
In meer oppugnancy: The bounded waters
Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores,
And make a sop of all this solid globe:
Strength should be lord of imbecility,
And the rude son should strike his father dead:
Force should be right; or, rather, right and wrong
(Between whose endless jar justice resides)
Should lose their names, and so should justice too.
-- 35 --
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 choaking.
And this neglection of degree it is,
9noteThat by a pace goes backward, 1note
with a purpose9Q1004
It hath to climb: The general's disdain'd
By him one step below; he, by the next;
That next, by him beneath: so every step,
Exampled by the first pace that is sick
Of his superior, grows to an envious fever
Of pale and 2notebloodless emulation:
And 'tis this fever that keeps Troy on foot,
Not her own sinews. To end a tale of length,
Troy in our weakness stands, not in her strength.
Nest.
Most wisely hath Ulysses here discover'd
The fever whereof all our power is sick.
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 fame,
Grows dainty of his worth, and in his tent
Lies mocking our designs: With him, Patroclus,
Upon a lazy bed, the livelong day
Breaks scurril jests;
And with ridiculous and aukward action
-- 36 --
(Which, slanderer, he imitation calls)
He pageants us. Sometime, great Agamemnon,
3note
Thy topless deputation he puts on;
And, like a strutting player,—whose conceit
Lies in his ham-string, and doth think it rich
To hear the wooden dialogue and sound
'Twixt his stretch'd footing and the scaffoldage9Q1005,—
Such to-be-pitied and o'er-rested seeming9Q1006
He acts thy greatness in: and when he speaks,
'Tis like a chime a mending; with terms unsquar'd,
Which, from the tongue of roaring Typhon drop'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;—4noteas near as the extremest ends
Of parallels; 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-fumbling5note on his gorget,
Shake in and out of the rivet:—and at this sport,
Sir Valour dies; cries, O!—enough, Patroclus;—
-- 37 --
Or give me ribs of steel! I shall split all In pleasure of my spleen. And in this fashion,
6note
All our abilities, gifts, natures, shapes,
Severals and generals of grace exact,
Atchievements, plots, orders, preventions,
Excitements to the field, or speech for truce,
Success, or loss, what is, or is not, serves
As stuff for these two 7note
to make paradoxes.
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 8note
bears his head
In such a rein, in full as proud a place
As broad Achilles: keeps his tent like him;
Makes factious feasts; rails on our state of war,
Bold as an oracle: and sets Thersites
(A slave, whose gall coins slanders like a mint)
To match us in comparisons with dirt;
To weaken and discredit our exposure,
9note
How rank soever rounded in with danger.
Ulyss.
They tax our policy, and call it cowardice;
Count wisdom as no member of the war;
Forestall pre-science, and esteem no act
But that of hand: the still and mental parts,—
That do contrive how many hands shall strike,
and know, by measure
Of their observant toil, the enemies' weight,—
Why, this hath not a finger's dignity;
They call this—bed-work, mappery, closet war:
So that the ram, that batters down the wall,
For the great swing and rudeness of his 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, Menelaus.
Men.
From Troy. Enter Æneas.
Aga.
What would you 'fore our tent?
Æne.
Is this great Agamemnon's tent, I pray you?
Aga.
Even this.
Æne.
May one, that is a herald, and a prince,
Do a fair message to his 2note
kingly ears?
Aga.
With surety stronger than 3note
Achilles' arm
'Fore all the Greekish heads, which with one voice
Call Agamemnon head and general.
Æne.
Fair leave, and large security. How may
4note
A stranger to those most imperial looks
-- 39 --
Know them from eyes of other mortals?
Aga.
How?
Æne.
I ask, that I might waken reverence,9Q1007
And 5note bid the cheek 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?
Aga.
This Trojan scorns us; or the men of Troy
Are ceremonious courtiers.
Æne.
Courtiers as free, as debonair, unarm'd,
As bending angels; that's their fame in peace:
But when they would seem soldiers, they have galls,
Good arms, strong joints, true swords; and, Jove's accord,
Nothing so full of heart. But peace, Æneas,
Peace, Trojan; lay thy finger on thy lips!
The worthiness of praise distains his worth,
If that the prais'd himself bring the praise forth:
But what the repining enemy commends,
That breath fame blows; that praise, sole pure, transcends.
Aga.
Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself Æneas?
Æne.
Ay, Greek, that is my name.
Aga.
What's your affair, I pray you?
-- 40 --
Æne.
Sir, pardon; 'tis for Agamemnon's ears.
Aga.
He hears nought privately, that comes from Troy.
Æne.
Nor I from Troy come not to whisper him:
I bring a trumpet to awake his ear;
To set his sense on the attentive bent,
And then to speak.
Aga.
Speak frankly as the wind;
It is not Agamemnon's sleeping hour:
That thou shalt know, Trojan, he is awake,
He tells thee so to 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.
[Trumpets sound.
We have, great Agamemnon, here in Troy
A prince call'd Hector, Priam is his father,
Who in this dull and 6notelong-continu'd truce
Is 7noterusty grown; he bade me take a trumpet,
And to this purpose speak. Kings, princes, lords!
If there be one, among the fair'st of Greece,
That holds his honour higher than his ease;
That seeks his praise more than he fears his peril;
That knows his valour, and knows not his fear;
That loves his mistress 8notemore than in confession,
(With truant vows 9noteto her own lips he loves)
And dare avow her beauty, and her worth,
In other arms than hers9Q1009,—to him this challenge.
Hector, in view of Trojans and of Greeks,
Shall make it good, or do his best to do it,
-- 41 --
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, 1note
and not worth
The splinter of a lance. Even so much.
Aga.
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 host9Q1010
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,
2note
And in my vantbrace put this wither'd brawn;
And, meeting him, will tell him, That my lady
Was fairer than his grandame, and as chaste
As may be in the world: His youth in flood,
I'll pawn this truth with my three drops of blood.
Æne.
Now heavens forbid such scarcity of youth!
Ulyss.
Amen.
-- 42 --
Aga.
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.Manent Ulysses, and Nestor.
Ulyss.
Nestor,—
Nest.
What says Ulysses?
Ulyss.
I have a young conception in my brain,
3noteBe you my time to bring it to some shape.
Nest.
What is't?
Ulyss.
This 'tis:
Blunt wedges rive hard knots: The seeded pride4note
That hath to its maturity blown up9Q1011
In rank Achilles, must or now be cropt,
Or, shedding, breed a 5notenursery of like evil,
To over-bulk us all.
Nest.
Well, and how?
Ulyss.
This challenge that the gallant Hector sends,
However it is spread in general name,
Relates in purpose only to Achilles.
And, in the publication, make no strain,
But that Achilles, were his brain as barren
As banks of Libya,—though, Apollo knows,
'Tis dry enough,—will with great speed of judgment,
Ay, with celerity, find Hector's purpose
Pointing on him.
Ulyss.
And wake him to the answer, think you?
Nest.
Yes, 'tis most meet; Whom may you else oppose,
That can from Hector bring those honours off,9Q1012
If not Achilles? Though't be a sportful combat,
Yet in this 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 8notescantling
Of good or bad unto the general;
-- 44 --
And in such indexes, although 9notesmall pricks
To their subsequent volumes, there is seen
The baby figure of the giant mass
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?
1noteWhich entertain'd, limbs are in his instruments,
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, shew our foulest wares,
And think, perchance, they'll sell; if not,
The lustre of the better shall exceed,
By shewing the worst first.9Q1013 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?
Ulyss.
What glory our Achilles shares from Hector,
Were he not proud, we all should 2noteshare 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 opinion crush
-- 45 --
In taint of our best man. No, make a lottery;
And, by device, let blockish Ajax3note
draw
The sort4note to fight with Hector: Among ourselves,
Give him allowance as the better man,
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 opinion still,
That we have better men. But, hit or miss,
Our project's life this shape of sense assumes,—
Ajax, employ'd, plucks down Achilles' plumes.
Nest.
Ulysses,
Now I begin to relish thy advice;
And I will give a taste of it forthwith
To Agamemnon: go we to him straight.
Two curs shall tame each other; Pride alone
5note
Must tarre the mastiffs on, as 'twere their bone. [Exeunt.
-- 46 --
noteACT II. [Footnote 6:SCENE I.The Grecian camp.Enter Ajax, and Thersites.
Ajax.
Thersites,—
Ther.
Agamemnon—how if he had boils? full,
all over, generally?
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 there would come some matter from
him; I see none now.
Ajax.
Thou bitch-wolf's son, canst thou not hear?
Feel then.
[Strikes him.
Ther.
7noteThe plague of Greece upon thee, thou
mungrel beef-witted lord8note
Speak then, thou unsalted leaven, speak: I
will beat thee into handsomeness.
-- 47 --
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 tricks!
Ajax.
Toads-stool, learn me the proclamation.
Ther.
Dost thou think, I have no sense, thou strik'st
me thus?
Ajax.
The proclamation,—
Ther.
Thou art proclaim'd 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 1notein Greece. When 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,
Ay, do, do; thou sodden-witted lord! thou
hast no more brain than I have in my elbows; 6note
an
assinego may tutor thee: Thou scurvy valiant ass!
-- 49 --
thou art here put to thrash Trojans; and thou art
bought and sold among those of any wit, like a Barbarian
slave. If thou use to beat me, I will begin at
thy heel, and tell what thou art by inches, thou
thing of no bowels, thou!
Ajax.
You dog!
Ther.
You scurvy lord!
Ajax.
You cur!
[Beating him.
Ther.
Mars his ideot! 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.
-- 50 --
Ther.
Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he
utters! his evasions have ears thus long. I have
bobb'd his brain, more than he has beat my bones:
I will buy nine sparrows for a penny, and his pia materis not worth the ninth part of a sparrow. This
lord, Achilles, Ajax,—who wears his wit in his belly,
and his guts in his head,—I'll tell you what I say
of him.
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 damn'd 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 voluntary: 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 your brains;
'a were as good crack a fusty nut with no kernel.
Achil.
What, with me too, Thersites?
-- 51 --
Ther.
There's Ulysses and old 1noteNestor,—whose wit
was mouldy ere your grandsires had nails on their
toes,—yoke you like draft oxen, and make you plough
up the war.
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.
I will see you hang'd, like clotpoles, ere I
come any more to your tents; I will keep where
there is wit stirring, and leave the faction of fools.
[Exit.
Patr.
A good riddance.
Achil.
Marry this, sir, is proclaim'd through all our host:
That Hector, by the fifth hour of the sun,
Will, with a trumpet, 'twixt our tents and Troy,
-- 52 --
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: Farewel.
Ajax.
Farewel. 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.SCENE II.TROY.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 spungy to suck in the sense of fear,
More ready to cry out—Who knows what follows?
Than Hector is: The wound of peace is surety,
Surety secure; but modest doubt is call'd
The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches
To the bottom of the worst. Let Helen go:
Since the first sword was drawn about this question,
Every tithe soul, 'mongst 3note
many thousand dismes,
-- 53 --
Hath been as dear as Helen; I mean, of ours:
If we have lost so many tenths of ours,
To guard a thing not ours; 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?
Troi.
Fie, fie, my brother!
Weigh you the worth and honour of a king,
So great as our dread father, in a scale
Of common ounces? will you with counters sum
4note
The past-proportion of his infinite?
And buckle-in a waist most fathomless,
With spans and inches so diminutive
As fears and reasons? fie, for godly shame!
Hel.
No marvel, though you bite so sharp at reasons,
You are so empty of them. Should not our father
Bear the great sway of his affairs with reasons,
Because your speech hath none, that tells him so?
Troi.
You are for dreams and slumbers, brother priest,
You fur your gloves with reason. Here are your reasons:
You know, an enemy intends you harm;
You know, a sword employ'd is perilous,
And reason flies the object of all harm:
Who marvels then, when Helenus beholds
A Grecian and his sword, if he do set
The very wings of reason to his heels;
5note
And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove,
-- 54 --
Or like a star dis-orb'd?—Nay, if we talk of reason,
Let's shut our gates, and sleep: Manhood and honour
Should have hare hearts, would they but fat their thoughts
With this cramm'd reason: reason and respect
Make livers pale, and lustyhood deject.
Hect.
Brother, she is not worth what she doth cost
The holding.
Troi.
What is aught, but as 'tis valu'd?
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;
6note
And the will dotes, that is inclinable
To what infectiously itself affects,
7note
Without some image of the affected merit.
Troi.
I take to-day a wife, and my election
Is led on in the conduct of my will;
My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears,
Two traded pilots 'twixt the dangerous shores
Of will and judgment; How may I avoid,
Although my will distaste what it elected,
The wife I chose? there can be no evasion
To blench from this, and to stand firm by honour:
We turn not back the silks upon the merchant,
-- 55 --
When we have 8note
soil'd them; nor the remainder viands
We do not throw in 9note
unrespective sieve,
Because we now are full. It was thought meet,
Paris should do some vengeance on the Greeks:
Your breath of full consent belly'd his sails;
The seas and winds (old wranglers) took a truce,
And did him service: he touch'd the ports desir'd;
And, for an old aunt, whom the Greeks held captive,
He brought a Grecian queen, whose youth and freshness
Wrinkles Apollo's, and makes 1note
pale the morning.
Why keep we her? the Grecians keep our aunt:
Is she worth keeping? why, she is a pearl,
Whose price hath launch'd above a thousand ships,
And turn'd crown'd kings to merchants.
If you'll avouch, 'twas wisdom Paris went,
(As you must needs, for you all 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;
2noteAnd do a deed that fortune never did,
-- 56 --
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!
3noteBut, thieves, 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?
Troi.
'Tis our mad sister, I do know her voice.
Cas. [within]
Cry, Trojans!
Hect.
It is Cassandra. Enter Cassandra, raving.
Cas.
Cry, Trojans, cry! lend me ten thousand eyes,
And I will fill them with prophetic tears.
Hect.
Peace, sister, peace.
Cas.
Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled elders,9Q1016
Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry,
Add to my clamours!9Q1017 let us pay betimes
A moiety of that mass of moan to come.
Cry, Trojans, cry! practise your eyes with tears!
Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand;
Our fire-brand brother, 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?
Troi.
Why, brother Hector,
We may not think the justness of each act
-- 57 --
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 4notedistaste the goodness of a quarrel,
Which hath our several honours all engag'd
To make it gracious. For my private part,
I am no more touch'd than all Priam's sons:
And Jove forbid, there should be done amongst us
Such things as would offend the weakest spleen
To fight for and maintain!
Par.
Else might the world convince of levity
As well my undertakings, as your counsels:
But I attest the gods, your full consent
Gave wings to my propension, and cut off
All fears attending on so dire a project.
For what, alas, can these my single arms?
What propugnation is in one man's valour,
To stand the push and enmity of those
This quarrel would excite? Yet, I protest,
Were I alone to pass the difficulties,
And had as ample power as I have will,
Paris should ne'er retract what he hath done,
Nor faint in the pursuit.
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 rape
Wip'd off, in honourable keeping her.
What treason were it to the ransack'd queen,
Disgrace to your great worths, and shame to me,
Now to deliver her possession up,
On terms of base compulsion? can it be,
That so degenerate a strain as this,
-- 58 --
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'd, but superficially; not much
Unlike young men, whom Aristotle5note thought
Unfit to hear moral philosophy:
The reasons, you alledge, do more conduce
To the hot passion of distemper'd blood,
Than to make up a free determination
'Twixt right and wrong; For pleasure, and revenge,
Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice
Of any true decision. Nature craves,
All dues be render'd to their owners; Now
What nearer debt in all humanity,
Than wife is to the husband? if this law
Of nature be corrupted through affection;
And that great minds, of partial indulgence
To their 6notebenummed wills, resist the same;
7noteThere is a law in each well-order'd nation,
To curb those raging appetites that are
Most disobedient and refractory.
If Helen then be wife to Sparta's king,—
-- 59 --
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
8noteIs this, in way of truth: yet, ne'ertheless,
My sprightly 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.
Troi.
Why, there you touch'd the life of our design:
Were it not glory that we more affected
Than 9notethe performance of our heaving spleens,
I would not wish a drop of Trojan blood
Spent more in her defence. But, worthy Hector,
She is a theme of honour and renown;
A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds;
Whose present courage may beat down our foes,
And same, in time to come, canonize us:
For, I presume, brave Hector would not lose
So rich advantage of a promis'd glory,
As smiles upon the forehead of this action,
For the wide world's revenue.
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 drowzy spirits:
I was advertis'd, their great general slept,
Whilst 1noteemulation in the army crept;
This, I presume, will wake him. [Exeunt.
-- 60 --
SCENE III.The Grecian Camp.Achilles' tent.
Enter Thersites.
How now, Thersites? what, lost in the labyrinth
of thy fury? Shall the elephant Ajax carry it thus?
he beats me, and I rail at him: O worthy satisfaction!
'would, it were otherwise, that I could beat him,
whilst he rail'd at me: 'Sfoot, I'll learn to conjure
and raise devils, but I'll see some issue of my spiteful
execrations. Then there's Achilles,—a rare engineer.9Q1018If Troy be not taken 'till these two undermine it, the
walls will stand 'till they fall of themselves. O thou
great thunder-darter of Olympus, forget that thou
art Jove the king of gods; and, Mercury, lose all
the serpentine craft of thy Caduceus; if ye take not
that little little less-than-little wit from them that
they have! which short-arm'd ignorance itself knows
is so abundant scarce, it will not in circumvention
deliver a fly from a spider, 2notewithout drawing the
massy iron,9Q1019 and cutting the web. After this, the
vengeance on the whole camp! or, rather, the 3notebone-ache!
for that, methinks, is the curse dependant on
those that war for a placket. 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.
-- 61 --
Ther.
If I could have remember'd a gilt counterfeit,
thou wouldst not have slipp'd out of my contemplation:
but it is no matter, Thyself upon thyself!
The common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance,
be thine in great revenue! heaven bless thee from a
tutor, and discipline come not near thee! Let thy
blood be thy direction 'till thy death! then if she,
that lays thee out, says—thou art a fair corse, I'll be
sworn and sworn upon't, she never shrowded 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 serv'd
thyself in to my table so many meals? Come; what's
Agamemnon!
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 may'st tell, that know'st.
Achil.
O, tell, tell.
Ther.
I'll 4notedecline the whole question. Agammemnon
commands Achilles; Achilles is my lord; I am
Patroclus' knower; and 5notePatroclus is a fool.
Patr.
You rascal!
-- 62 --
Ther.
Peace, fool; I have not done.
Achil.
He is a privileg'd man.—Proceed, Thersites.
Ther.
Agamemnon is a fool; Achilles is a fool;
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 positive.
of the prover.—It
suffices me, thou art. Look you, who comes
here?
Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Nestor, Diomedes, and Ajax.
Achil.
Patroclus, I'll speak with no body:—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 factions,
and bleed to death upon. 7noteNow the dry serpigo on
the subject! and war, and lechery, confound all!
[Exit.
Aga.
Where is Achilles?
Patr.
Within his tent; but ill-dispos'd, my lord.
Aga.
Let it be known to him, that we are here.
8note
He shent our messengers; and we lay by
-- 63 --
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 so say to him. [Exit.
Ulyss.
We saw him at the opening of his tent;
He is not sick.
Ajax.
Yes, lion-sick, sick of a proud heart: you
may call it melancholy, if you will favour the man;
but, by my head, 'tis pride: But why, why? let him
shew us a cause.—A word, my lord.
[To Agamemnon.
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.
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 9notecomposure, a
fool could disunite.
Ulyss.
The amity, that wisdom knits not, folly may
easily untye. Here comes Patroclus.
, but none for courtesy;
His legs are 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 2note
noble state,
To call on him; he hopes, it is no other,
But, for your health and your digestion sake,
An after-dinner's breath.
Agam.
Hear you, Patroclus;—
We are too well acquainted with these answers:
But his evasion, wing'd thus swift with scorn,
Cannot out-fly 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 to him: And you shall not sin,
If you do say—we think him over-proud,
-- 65 --
And under-honest; in self-assumption greater,
Than in the note of judgment; and worthier than himself,
Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on;
Disguise the holy strength of their command,
And 1noteunder-write in an observing kind
His humourous predominance; yea, watch
2note
His pettish lunes, his ebbs, his flows, as if
The passage and whole carriage of this action
Rode on his tide. Go, tell him this; and add,
That, if he over-hold 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 give3note
Before a sleeping giant:—Tell him so.
Patr.
I shall; and bring his answer presently. [Exit.
Aga.
In second voice we'll not be satisfied,
We come to speak with him.—Ulysses, enter you. [Exit Ulysses.
Ajax.
What is he more than another?
Aga.
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?
Aga.
No question.
Ajax.
Will you subscribe his thought, and say—he is?
Aga.
No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as valiant,
-- 66 --
As wise, and no less noble, much more gentle,
And altogether more tractable.
Ajax.
Why should a man be proud?
How doth pride grow? I know not what pride is.
Aga.
Your mind's the clearer, Ajax, and your virtues
The fairer. He that's proud, eats up himself:
Pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his
Own chronicle; and whate'er praises itself
But in the deed, devours the deed i'the praise.
Ajax.
I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendering
of toads4note.
Nest. [Aside.]
And yet he loves himself; Is it not
strange?
Re-enter Ulysses.
Ulyss.
Achilles will not to the field to-morrow.
Aga.
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.
Aga.
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: Possest he is with greatness;
And speaks not to himself, but with a pride
That quarrels at self breath: imagin'd worth
Holds in his blood such swoln and hot discourse,
That, 'twixt his mental and his active parts,
Kingdom'd Achilles in commotion rages,
And batters down himself: What should I say?
-- 67 --
He is so plaguy proud, that the death tokens of it5note
Cry—No recovery.
Aga.
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 6notewith his own seam;
And never suffers matter of the world
Enter his thoughts,—save such as do revolve
And ruminate himself,—shall he be worshipp'd
Of that we hold an idol more than he?
No, this thrice-worthy and right-valiant lord
Must not so stale his palm, nobly acquir'd;
Nor, by my will, assubjugate his merit,
As amply titled as Achilles is,
By going to Achilles:
That were to enlard his fat-already pride;
And add more coals to Cancer, when he burns
With entertaining great Hyperion.
This lord go to him! Jupiter forbid;
And say in thunder—Achilles, go to him.
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 armed fist
I'll pash him o'er the face.
-- 68 --
Aga.
O, no, you shall not go.
Ajax.
An he be proud with me, I'll 7notepheeze his pride:—
Let me go to him.
Ulyss. 8noteNot for the worth 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'll let his humours blood.
Aga.
He will be the physician, 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?
Nest.
An 'twould, you'd carry half. [Aside.
Ulyss.
He would have ten shares. [Aside.
9note
Ajax.
I will knead him, I'll make him supple:—
Nest.
He's not yet thorough warm: 1noteforce him with praises:
[Aside.
Pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry.
Ulyss.
My lord, you feed too much on this dislike. [To Agamemnon.
-- 69 --
Nest.
Our 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 emulous, as Achilles is.
Ulyss.
Know the whole world, he is as valiant.
Ajax.
A whoreson dog, that shall palter thus with us!
'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 suck:
Fam'd be thy tutor; and thy parts of nature
Thrice-fam'd, beyond beyond all erudition:
But he that disciplin'd thy arms to fight,
Let Mars divide eternity in twain,
And give him half: and, for thy vigor,
Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield
To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom,
Which, like a bourn2note
, 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.
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 Troy: To-morrow,
We must with all our main of power stand fast:
And here's a lord,—come knights from east to west,
And cull their flower, Ajax shall cope the best.
Aga.
Go we to council. Let Achilles sleep:
Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw deep. [Exeunt.ACT III.SCENE I.TROY.The Palace.Enter Pandarus, and a Servant.[Musick within.
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.
Pan.
You do depend upon a noble gentleman; I
must needs praise him.
Serv.
The lord be praised!
Pan.
You know me, do you not?
-- 71 --
Serv.
'Faith, sir, superficially.
Pan.
Friend, know me better; I am the lord Pandarus.
Serv.
I hope, I shall know your honour better.
Pan.
I do desire it.
Serv.
You are in the state of grace?
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,
4notelove's invisible soul,—
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 stew'd phrase, indeed!
-- 72 --
Enter Paris, and 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 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 5note
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!
-- 73 --
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.—6noteAnd, 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?
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 out9note, 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, 1notesweet
lord, thou hast a fine forehead.
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 more!
For, oh, love's bow
Shoots buck and doe:
The shaft confounds
Not that it wounds2note,
But tickles still the sore.
Yet that which seems the wound to kill,
Doth turn oh! oh! to ha! ha! he!
So dying love lives still:
Oh! oh! a while, but ha! ha! ha!
Oh! oh! groans out for ha! ha! ha!
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 vipers? Sweet lord, who's
a-field 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.
-- 76 --
Pan.
I will, sweet queen. [Exit. Sound a retreat.
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, over-shines ourself.
Par.
Sweet, above thought I love thee. [Exeunt.SCENE II.Pandarus' garden.Enter Pandarus, and Troilus' man.
Pan.
How 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,
Aud give me swift transportance to those fields,
Where I may wallow in the lily beds
Propos'd for the deserver! O gentle Pandarus,
-- 77 --
From Cupid's shoulder pluck his painted wings,
And fly with me to Cressid!
Pan.
Walk here i'the orchard, I will bring her straight.
[Exit Pandarus.
Troi.
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, 4note
tun'd too sharp in sweetness,
For the capacity of my ruder powers:
I fear it much; and I do fear besides,
That I shall lose distinction in my joys;
As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps
The enemy flying. Re-enter Pandarus.
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 fray'd with a
sprite: I'll fetch her. It is the prettiest villain:—she
fetches her breath as short as a new-ta'en sparrow.
[Exit Pandarus.
Troi.
Even such a passion doth embrace my bosom:
My heart beats thicker than a feverous pulse;
And all my powers do their bestowing lose,
Like vassalage at unawares encount'ring
The eye of majesty5note
.
-- 78 --
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 watch'd ere you be made tame6note
,
must you? Come your ways, come your ways; an you
draw backward, 7notewe'll put you i'the files.—Why do
you not speak to her?—Come, draw this curtain, and
let's see your picture. Alas the day, how loath you
are to offend day-light! an 'twere dark, you'd close
sooner. So, so; rub on, and kiss the mistress.9Q1021 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. 8note
The faulcon as the tercel, for all
the ducks i'the river: go to, go to.
-- 79 --
Troi.
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—
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 wish'd me thus?
Cre.
Wish'd, 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 cherubims; they never
see truly.
Cre.
Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds safer
footing than blind reason stumbling without fear: To
fear the worst, oft cures the worst.
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 monstruosity in love, lady,—that the will
is infinite, and the execution confin'd; that the desire
is boundless, and the act a slave to limit.
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; our head shall
-- 80 --
go bare, 'till merit crown it9note: no perfection in reversion
shall have a praise in present: we will not name
desert, before his birth; and, being born, 1notehis addition
shall be humble. Few words to fair faith: Troilus
shall be such to Cressid, as what envy can say
worst, shall be a mock for his truth; and what truth
can speak truest, not truer than Troilus.
Cre.
Will you walk in, my lord?
Re-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 thrown2note
.
Cre.
Boldness comes to me now, and brings me heart:—
Prince Troilus, I have lov'd you night and day,
For many weary months.
-- 81 --
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 wish'd myself a man;
Or, that we women had men's privilege
Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue;
For, in this rapture, I shall surely speak
The thing I shall repent. See, see, your silence,
Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws
My very soul of counsel: Stop my mouth.
Troi.
And shall, albeit sweet musick issues thence.
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. I would be gone:—
Where is my wit? I speak I know not what.
Troi.
Well know they what they speak, that speak
so wisely.
-- 82 --
Cre.
Perchance, my lord, I shew more craft than love;
And fell so roundly to a large confession,
To angle for your thoughts: 1note
For to be wise, and love,
Exceeds man's might; that dwells with gods above.
Troi.
O, that I thought it could be in a woman,
(As, if it can, I will presume in you)
To feed for aye her lamp and flames of love;
To keep her constancy in plight and youth,
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
3noteMight be affronted with the match and weight
Of such a winnow'd purity in love;
How were I then uplifted! but, alas,
I am as true as truth's simplicity,
Troi.
O virtuous fight,
When right with right wars who shall be most right!
5note
True swains in love shall, in the world come,
Approve their truths by Troilus: when their rhymes,
Full of protest, of oath, and big compare,
Want similies, truth tir'd with iteration,—
As true as steel,9Q1022 as 6note
plantage to the moon,
-- 84 --
As sun to day, as turtle to her mate,
As iron to adamant,9Q1023 as earth to the center,—
Yet, after all comparisons of truth,
7noteAs truth's authentic 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 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 step-dame to her son;
-- 85 --
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 called to the world's
end after my name, call them all—Pandars; let
all 8note
inconstant men be Troilus's, all false women
Cressids, and all brokers-between Pandars! say,
amen.
Troi.
Amen.
Cre.
Amen.
Pan.
Amen. Whereupon I will shew you a bed-chamber;
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, Pandar to provide this geer! [Exeunt.SCENE III.The Grecian Camp.Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Diomed, 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 recompence. 9note
through the sight I bear in things, to Jove
I have abandon'd Troy, left my possessions,
-- 87 --
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,
-- 88 --
I know, is such a wrest in their affairs,
That their negotiations all must slack,
Wanting his manage; and they will almost
Give us a prince of blood, a son of Priam,
In change of him: let him be sent, great princes,
And he shall buy my daughter; and her presence
Shall quite strike off all service I have done,
2note
In most accepted pain.
Aga.
Let Diomedes bear him,
And bring us Cressid hither; Calchas shall have
What he requests of us.—Good Diomed,
Furnish you fairly for this enterchange:
Withal, bring word—if Hector will to-morrow
Be answer'd in his challenge; Ajax is ready.
Diom.
This shall I undertake; and 'tis a burden
Which I am proud to bear. [Exit Diomed, 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 him:
If so, I have 3notederision med'cinable,
To use between your strangeness and his pride,
-- 89 --
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?
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 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,
Shew not their mealy wings, but to the summer;
And not a man, for being simply man,
-- 90 --
Hath any honour; but's honour'd for those honours
That are without him, as place, riches, favour,
Prizes of accident as oft as merit:
Which when they fall, as being slippery standers,
The love that lean'd on them as slippery too,
Doth one pluck down another, and together
Die in the fall. But 'tis not so with me:
Fortune and I are friends; I do enjoy
At ample point all that I did possess,
Save these men's looks; who do, methinks, find out
Something in me not worth that 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—4note
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
5note
To others' eyes: nor doth the eye itself6note
,
-- 91 --
(That most pure spirit 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 itself,
'Till it hath travell'd, and is marry'd 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:
Who, 7notein his circumstance, expressly proves—
That no man is the lord of any thing,
(Though in and of him there is 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, like an arch, reverberates
The voice again; or like a gate of steel
Fronting the sun, receives and renders back
His figure and his heat. I was much rapt in this;
And apprehended here immediately
8noteThe unknown Ajax.
Heavens, what a man is there! a very horse;
That has he knows not what. Nature, what things there are,
Most abjects 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.9Q1025 O heavens, what some men do,
While some men leave to do!
-- 92 --
9noteHow 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 1notefeasting in his wantonness!
To see these Grecian lords!—why, even already
They clap the lubber Ajax on the shoulder;
As if his foot were on brave Hector's breast,
And great Troy shrinking.
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. 2noteTime hath, my lord, a wallet at his back,
Wherein he puts alms for oblivion,
A great-siz'd monster of ingratitudes:
Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd
As fast as they are made, forgot as soon
As done: Perseverance, dear my lord,
Keeps honour bright: To have done, is to hang
Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail
In monumental mockery. Take the instant way;
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 forthright,
Like to an entred tide, they all rush by,
And leave you hindmost3note
;—
-- 93 --
Or like a gallant horse fallen in first rank,
Lie there for pavement 4note
to the abject rear,
5note
O'er run and trampled on: Then what they do in present,
Though less than yours in past, must o'er-top 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 smiles,
And farewel goes out sighing. O, let not virtue seek
Remuneration for the thing it was; 6note
for beauty, wit,
High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service,
Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all
To envious and calumniating time.
One touch of nature makes the whole world kin,—
That all, with one consent, praise new-born gawds,
Though they are made and moulded of things past;
7note
And shew to dust, that is a little gilt,
-- 94 --
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,9Q1026
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,
8note
Made emulous missions 'mongst the gods themselves,
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 daughters9note.
Achil.
Ha! known?
Ulyss.
Is that a wonder?
The providence that's in a watchful state,
Knows almost every grain of Pluto's gold;
Finds bottom in the uncomprehensive deeps;
2noteKeeps place with thought; and almost, like the gods,
Does thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles.
There is a mystery (3note
with whom relation
Durst never meddle) in the soul of state;
Which hath an operation more divine,
Than breath, or pen, can give expressure to:
All the commerce that you have had with Troy,
As perfectly is ours, as yours, my lord;
And better would it fit Achilles much,
To throw down Hector, than Polyxena:
But it must grieve young Pyrrhus now at home,
When fame shall in our islands sound her trump;
And all the Greekish girls shall tripping sing,—
Great Hector's sister did Achilles win; But our great Ajax bravely beat down him.
Farewell, my lord: I as your lover speak;
The fool slides o'er the ice that you should break. [Exit.
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;
-- 96 --
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 4note
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:
5noteOmission 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
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!
Achil.
What?
Ther.
Ajax goes up and down the field, asking for
himself.
Achil.
How so?
-- 97 --
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 arithmetic but her brain to set down her
reckoning: bites his lip 1notewith a politic regard, as
who should say—there were wit in this head, an 'twould
out; and so there is; but it lies as coldly in him as
fire in a flint, which will not shew without knocking.
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's 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 embassador to him,
Thersites.
Ther.
Who, I? why, he'll answer no body; he
professes not answering; speaking is for beggars; he
wears his tongue in his arms. I will put on his presence;
let Patroclus make 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!
-- 98 --
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 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 knock'd out his
brains, I know not: But, I am sure, none; unless the
fidler Apollo get his sinews to make catlings on1note.
Achil.
Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight.
Ther.
Let me bear 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. [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.
-- 99 --
ACT IV.SCENE I.A street in Troy.Enter at one door Æneas, and Servant, with a torch; at
another, Paris, Deiphobus, Antenor, and Diomed, &c. with torches.
Par.
See, ho! who is that there?
Dei.
It is the lord Æneas.
Æne.
Is the prince there in person?—
Had I so good occasion to lie long,
As you, prince Paris, nought 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.
During all question of the gentle truce:
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. 3noteAnd thou shalt hunt a lion, that will fly
-- 100 --
With his face backward. In humane gentleness,
Welcome to Troy! now, by Anchises' life,
Welcome, indeed! 4note
By Venus' hand I swear,
No man alive can love, in such a sort,
The thing he means to kill, more excellently.
Dio.
We sympathize:—Jove, let Æneas live,
If to my sword his fate be not the glory,
A thousand complete courses of the sun!
But, in mine emulous honour, let him die,
With every joint a wound; and that to-morrow!
Æne.
We know each other well.
Dio.
We do; and long to know each other worse.
Par.
This is the most despightful 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. 5noteHis purpose meets you; 'Twas to bring this Greek
-- 101 --
To Calchas' house; and there to render him
For the enfreed Antenor, the fair Cressid:
Let's have your company; or, if you please,
Haste there before us: I constantly do think,
(Or, rather, call my thought a certain knowledge)
My brother Troilus lodges there to-night;
Rouse him, and give him note of our approach,
With the whole quality wherefore: I fear,
We shall be much unwelcome.
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,—
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 soylure)
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 6notea flat tamed piece;
You, like a lecher, out of whorish loins
Are pleas'd to breed out your inheritors:
7note
Both merits pois'd, each weighs nor less nor more;
But he as he, the heavier for a whore.
-- 102 --
Par.
You are too bitter to your country-woman.
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,—
8note
We'll not commend what we intend to sell.
Here lies our way. [Exeunt.SCENE II.Pandarus' house.Enter Troilus, and Cressida.
Troi.
Dear, trouble not yourself; the morn is cold.
-- 103 --
Cre.
Then, sweet my lord, I'll call my uncle down;
He shall unbolt the gates.
Troi.
Trouble him not;
To bed, to bed: 9note
Sleep kill those pretty eyes,
And give as soft attachment to thy senses,
As infants' empty of all thought!
Cre.
Good morrow then.
Troi.
I pr'ythee now, to bed.
Cre.
Are you aweary of me?
Troi.
O Cressida! but that the busy day,
Wak'd by the lark, has rouz'd the ribald crows,
And dreaming night will hide our joys9Q1028 no longer,
I would not from thee.
Cre.
Night hath been too brief.
Troi.
Beshrew the witch! with venomous wights she stays,
1note
As tediously as hell; but flies the grasps of love,
With wings more momentary-swift than thought.9Q1029
You will catch cold, and curse me.
Cre.
Pr'ythee, tarry;—you men will never tarry.
O foolish Cressida!—I might have still held off,
And then you would have tarry'd. Hark! there's one up.
Cre.
A pestilence on him! now will he be mocking:
I shall have such a life,—
-- 104 --
Pan.
How now, how now? how go maiden-heads?
—Here, you maid! where's my cousin Cressid?
Cre.
Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle!
You bring me to do3note, and then you flout me too.
Pan.
To do what? to do what?—let her say what:
What have I brought you to do?
Cre.
Come, come; beshrew your heart! you'll ne'er be good,
Nor suffer others.
Pan.
Ha, ha! Alas, poor wretch! 4notea poor capochia!
—hast not slept to-night? would he not, a
naughty man, let it sleep? a bugbear take him!
[One knocks.
Cre.
Did not I tell you?—'would he were knock'd o' the head!—
Who's that at door? good uncle, go and see.—
-- 105 --
My lord, come you again into my chamber:
You smile, and mock me, as if I meant naughtily.
Troi.
Ha, ha!
Cre.
Come, you are deceiv'd, I think of no such thing.—
How earnestly they knock!—pray you, come in;
[Knock.
I would not for half Troy have you seen here. [Exeunt.
Pan.
Who's there? what's 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 fetch him hither;
Go. As Pandarus is going out, enter Troilus.
Troi.
How now? what's the matter?
Æne.
My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you,
My 5note
matter is so rash: There is at hand
Paris your brother, and Deiphobus,
-- 106 --
The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor
6note
Deliver'd to us; and for him forthwith,
Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour,
We must give up to Diomedes' hand
The lady Cressida.
Tro.
Is it concluded so?
Æne.
By Priam, and the general state of Troy:
They are at hand, and ready to effect it.
Troi.
How my atchievements mock me!—
I will go meet them: and, my lord Æneas,
We met by chance; you did not find me here.
the secrets of neighbour Pandar
Have not more gift in taciturnity. [Exeunt Troilus, and Æneas.
Pan.
Is't possible? no sooner got, but lost? The
devil take Antenor! the young prince will go mad.
A plague upon Antenor! I would, they had broke's
neck!
Enter Cressida.
Cre.
How now? What is the matter? Who was
here?
-- 107 --
Pan.
Ah, ah!
Cre.
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!
Cre.
O the gods!—what's the matter?
Pan.
Pr'ythee, get thee in; Would thou had'st ne'er
been born! I knew, thou wouldst be his death:—
O poor gentleman!—A plague upon Antenor!
Cre.
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 chang'd for Antenor: thou must to
thy father, and be gone from Troilus; 'twill be his
death; 'twill be his bane; he cannot bear it.
Cre.
O you immortal gods!—I will not go.
Pan.
Thou must.
Cre.
I will not, uncle: I have forgot my father;
I know no touch of consanguinity;
No kin, no love, no blood, no soul so near me,
As the sweet Troilus.—O you gods divine!
Make Cressid's name the very crown of falshood,
If ever she leave Troilus! Time, force, and death,9Q1031
Do to this body what extremes you can;
But the strong base and building of my love
Is as the very center of the earth,
Drawing all things to it.—I'll go in, and weep,—
Pan.
Do, do.
Cre.
Tear my bright hair, and scratch my praised cheeks;
Crack my clear voice with sobs, and break my heart
With sounding Troilus. I will not go from Troy. [Exeunt.
-- 108 --
SCENE III.Before Pandarus' houseEnter Paris, Troilus, Æneas, Diomedes, &c.
Par.
It is great morning8note; and the hour prefix'd
Of her delivery to this valiant Greek
Comes fast upon:—Good my brother Troilus,
Tell you the lady what she is to do,
And haste her to the purpose.
Troi.
Walk in to her house;
I'll bring her to the Grecian presently:
And to his hand when I deliver her,
Think it an altar; and thy brother Troilus
A priest, there offering to it his own heart.
[Exit Troi.
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.An apartment in Pandarus' house.Enter Pandarus, and Cressida.
And violenteth in a sense as strong
As that which causeth it: How can I moderate it?
If I could temporize with my affection,
Or brew it to a weak and colder palate,
The like allayment could I give my grief:
My love admits no qualifying dross;
No more my grief, in such a precious loss.
Enter Troilus.
Pan.
Here, here, here he comes.—Ah sweet ducks!
Cre.
O Troilus! Troilus!
Pan.
What a pair of spectacles is here! Let me
embrace too: O heart,—as the goodly saying is,—
&lblank; o heart, o heavy heart,
Why sigh'st thou without breaking?
where he answers again,
Because thou canst not ease thy smart,
By friendship, nor by speaking.
There 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?
Troi.
Cressid, I love thee in so 1notestrain'd 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.
-- 110 --
Cre.
Have the gods envy?
Pan.
Ay, ay, ay, ay; 'tis too plain a case.
Cre.
And is it true, that I must go from Troy?
Troi.
A hateful truth.
Cre.
What, and from Troilus too?
Troi.
From Troy, and Troilus.
Cre.
Is it possible?
Troi.
And suddenly; where injury of chance
Puts back leave-taking, justles roughly by
All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips
Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents
Our lock'd embrasures, strangles our dear vows
Even in the birth of our own labouring breath:
We two, that with so many thousand sighs
Did buy each other, must poorly sell ourselves
With the rude brevity and discharge of one.
Injurious time now, with a robber's haste,
Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how:
As many farewels as be stars in heaven,
With distinct breath and consign'd kisses to them,
He fumbles up into a loose adieu;
And scants us with a single famish'd kiss,
Distasted with the salt of broken tears.9Q1032
Æneas [within.]
My lord! is the lady ready?
Troi.
Hark! you are call'd: Some say, the Genius so
Cries, Come! to him that instantly must die.—
Bid them have patience; she shall come anon.
Pan.
Where are my tears? rain, to lay this wind,
Or my heart will be blown up by the root.
[Exit Pan.
Cre.
I must then to the Grecians?
Troi.
No remedy.
Cre.
A woeful Cressid 'mongst the merry Greeks2note!—
When shall we see again?
-- 111 --
Troi.
Hear me, my love: Be thou but true of heart,—
Cre.
I true! how now? what wicked deem is this?
Troi.
Nay, we must use expostulation kindly,
For it is parting from us:—
I speak not, be thou true, as fearing thee;
3noteFor I will throw my glove to death himself,
That there's no maculation in thy heart:
But, be thou true, say I, to fashion in
My sequent protestation; be thou true,
And I will see thee.
Cre.
O, you shall be expos'd, my lord, to dangers
As infinite as imminent! but, I'll be true.
Troi.
And I'll grow friend with danger. Wear this sleeve.
Cre.
And you this glove. When shall I see you?
Troi.
I will corrupt the Grecian centinels,
To give thee nightly visitation.
But yet, be true.
Cre.
O heavens!—be true, again?
Troi.
Hear why I speak it, love: The Grecian youths
Are well compos'd, with gifts of nature flowing,
And swelling o'er with arts and exercise;9Q1033
How novelties may move, and parts 4notewith person,
Alas, a kind of godly jealousy
(Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin)
Makes me afeard.
Cre.
O heavens! you love me not.
Troi.
Die I a villain then!
In this I do not call your faith in question,
So mainly as my merit: I cannot sing,
-- 112 --
Nor heel the high lavolt5note, nor sweeten talk,
Nor play at subtle games; fair virtues all,
To which the Grecians are most prompt and pregnant:
But I can tell, that in each grace of these
There lurks a still and dumb-discoursive devil,
That tempts most cunningly: but be not tempted.
Cre.
Do you think, I will?
Troi.
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.
Æneas [within.]
Nay, good my lord,—
Troi.
Come, kiss; and let us part.
Paris [within.]
Brother Troilus!
Troi.
Good brother, come you hither;
And bring Æneas, and the Grecian, with you.
Cre.
My lord, will you be true?
Troi.
Who I? alas, it is my vice, my fault:
While others fish with craft for great opinion,
I with great truth 6notecatch mere simplicity;
Whilst some with cunning gild their copper crowns,
With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare.
Fear not my truth; 7note
the moral of my wit
Is—plain, and true,—there's all the reach of it.
-- 113 --
Enter Æneas, Paris, and Diomed.
Welcome, sir Diomed! here is the lady,
Whom for Antenor we deliver you:
At the port1note, lord, I'll give her to thy hand;
And, by the way, 2notepossess thee what she is.
Entreat her fair; and, by my soul, fair Greek,
If e'er thou stand at mercy of my sword,
Name Cressid, and thy life shall be as safe
As Priam is in Ilion.
Dio.
Fair lady Cressid,
So please you, save the thanks this prince expects:
The lustre in your eye, heaven in your cheek,
Pleads your fair usage; and to Diomed
You shall be mistress, and command him wholly.
Troi.
Grecian, thou dost not use me courteously,
3note
To shame the zeal of my petition to thee,
In praising her: I tell thee, lord of Greece,
She is as far high-soaring o'er thy praises,
As thou unworthy to be call'd her servant.
-- 114 --
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 4note
my lust: And know you, lord,
I'll nothing do on charge: to her own worth
She shall be priz'd; but that you say—be't so,
I speak it in my spirit and honour,—no.
Troi.
Come, to the port.—I'll tell thee, Diomed,
This brave shall oft make thee to hide thy head.—
Lady, give me your hand; and, as we walk,
To our own selves bend we our needful talk. [Exeunt Troilus and Cressid. Sound trumpet.
Paris.
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.
Paris.
'Tis Troilus' fault: Come, come, to field with him.
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.
Aga.
Here art thou in appointment fresh and fair,
Anticipating time with starting courage.
Give with thy trumpet a loud note to Troy,
Thou dreadful Ajax; that the appalled air
May pierce the head of the great combatant,
And hale him hither.
Ajax.
Thou, trumpet, there's my purse.
Now crack thy lungs, and split thy brazen pipe:
Blow, villain, 'till thy sphered 6note
bias cheek
Out-swell the cholic of puff'd Aquilon:
Come, stretch thy chest, and let thy eyes spout blood;
Thou blow'st for Hector.
Ulyss.
No trumpet answers.
Achil.
'Tis but early days.
Aga.
Is not yon Diomed, with Calchas' daughter?
Ulyss.
'Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait;
He rises on his toe; that spirit of his
In aspiration lifts him from the earth. Enter Diomed, with Cressida.
Aga.
Is this the lady Cressida?
Dio.
Even she.
Aga.
Most dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet lady.
-- 116 --
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.
Patr.
The first was Menelaus' kiss;—this, mine:
Patroclus kisses you.
Dio.
Lady, a word;—I'll bring you to your father. [Diomed leads out Cressida.
Nest.
A woman of quick sense.
Ulyss.
Fie, fie upon her!
There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip,
Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out
At every joint and 2notemotive of her body.
O, these encounterers, so glib of tongue,
That give 3notea coasting welcome ere it comes,
And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts
To every ticklish reader! set them down
For 4notesluttish spoils of opportunity,
-- 118 --
And daughters of the game.
[Trumpet within.
All.
The Trojans' trumpet!
Aga.
Yonder comes the troop. Enter Hector, Æneas, Troilus, &c. with attendants.
Æne.
Hail, all the state of Greece! What shall be done to him
That victory commands? Or do you purpose,
A victor shall be known? will you, the knights
Shall to the edge of all extremity
Pursue each other; or shall they be divided
By any voice or order of the field?
Hector bade ask.
A little proudly, and great deal misprizing
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,
6noteValour and pride excel themselves in Hector;
The one almost as infinite as all,
The other blank as nothing. Weigh him well,
And that, which looks like pride, is courtesy.
This Ajax is half made of Hector's blood;
In love whereof, half Hector stays at home;
Half heart, half hand, half Hector comes to seek
This blended knight, half Trojan, and half Greek.
Achil.
A maiden battle then?—O, I perceive you. Re-enter Diomed.
Aga.
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 breath: the combatants being kin,
-- 120 --
Half stints their strife before their strokes begin.
Ulyss.
They are oppos'd already.
Aga.
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 tongue;
Not soon provok'd, nor, being provok'd, soon calm'd:
His heart and hand both open, and both free;
For what he has, he gives, what thinks, he shews;
Yet gives he not 'till judgment guide his bounty,
Nor dignifies 8note
an impair thought with breath:
Manly as Hector, but more dangerous;
For Hector, in his blaze of wrath, 9note
subscribes
To tender objects; but he, in heat of action,
Is more vindicative than jealous love:
They call him Troilus; and on him erect
A second hope, as fairly built as Hector.
Thus says Æneas; one that knows the youth
Even to his inches, and, with private soul,
Did in great Ilion 1notethus translate him to me. [Alarum. Hector and Ajax fight.
Aga.
They are in action.
Nest.
Now, Ajax, hold thine own!
Troi.
Hector, thou sleep'st, awake thee!
Aga.
His blows are well dispos'd:—there, Ajax! [Trumpets cease.
-- 121 --
Dio.
You must no more.
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 Bounds-in my father's; by Jove multipotent,
Thou shouldst not bear from me a Greekish member
Wherein my sword had not impressure made
Of our rank feud: But the just gods gainsay,
That any drop thou borrow'st from thy mother,
My sacred aunt, should by my mortal sword
Be drain'd! Let me embrace thee, Ajax:
By him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms;
Hector would have them fall upon him thus:—
Cousin, all honour to thee!
Ajax.
I thank thee, Hector:
Thou art too gentle, and too free a man:
I came to kill thee, cousin, and bear hence
A great addition earned in thy death.
(On whose bright crest Fame with her loud'st O yes
Cries, This is he) could promise to himself
-- 123 --
A thought of added honour torn from Hector.
Æne.
There is expectance here from both the sides,
What further you will do.
Hect. 3noteWe'll answer it;
The issue is embracement:—Ajax, farewel.
Ajax.
If I might in entreaties find success,
(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:
-- 124 --
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 4noteyour knights.
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.
Aga. 5noteWorthy of arms! as welcome as to one
That would be rid of such an enemy;
But that's no welcome: Understand more clear,
What's past, and what's to come, is strew'd with husks
And formless ruin of oblivion;
But in this extant moment, faith and troth,
Strain'd purely from all hollow bias-drawing,
Bids thee, with most divine integrity,
From heart of very heart, great Hector, welcome.
Hect.
I thank thee, most imperious Agamemnon.
Aga.
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 Menelaus.
-- 125 --
Hect.
O, you, my lord? by Mars his gauntlet, thanks!
6note
Mock not, that I affect the untraded oath;
Your quondam wife swears still by Venus' glove:
She's well, but bade me not commend her to you.
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 youth: and I have seen thee,
As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed,
7note
Despising many forfeits and subduements,
When thou hast hung thy advanced sword i'the air,
Not letting it decline on the declin'd;
That I have said to some my standers-by,
Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life!
And I have seen thee pause, and take thy breath,
When that a ring of Greeks have hemm'd thee in,
Like an Olympian wrestling: This have I seen;
But this thy countenance, still lock'd in steel,
I never saw 'till now. I knew thy grandsire,
And once fought with him: he was a soldier good;
But, by great Mars, the captain of us all,
Never like thee: Let an old man embrace thee;
And, worthy warrior, welcome to our tents.
Æne.
'Tis the old Nestor.
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,
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 clouds,
Must kiss their own feet.
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.
1noteNow, Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee;
I have with exact view perus'd thee, Hector,
And quoted joint by joint2note
.
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, 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
Hector's great spirit flew: Answer me, heavens!
Hect.
It would discredit the blest gods, proud man,
To answer such a question: Stand again:
Think'st thou to catch my life so pleasantly,
As to prenominate in nice conjecture,
Where thou wilt hit me dead?
Achil.
I tell thee, yea.
Hect.
Wert thou an oracle to tell me so,
I'd not believe thee. Henceforth guard thee well;
For I'll not kill thee there, nor there, nor there;
-- 128 --
But, by the forge that stithy'd Mars his helm,
I'll kill thee every where, yea, o'er and o'er.—
You wisest Grecians, pardon me this brag,
His insolence draws folly from my lips;
But I'll endeavour deeds to match these words,
Or may I never—
Ajax.
Do not chase 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 him3note
.
Hect.
I pray you, let us see you in the field;
We have had pelting wars, 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.
Aga.
First, all you peers of Greece, go to my tent;
There in the full convive we4note: afterwards,
As Hector's leisure and your bounties shall
Concur together, severally intreat him.—
5note
Beat loud the tabourines, let the trumpets blow,
-- 129 --
That this great soldier may his welcome know.
[Exeunt.Manent Troilus, and Ulysses.
Troi.
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 on heaven, nor on the earth,
But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view
On the fair Cressid.
Troi.
Shall I, sweet lord, be bound to you so much,
After we part from Agamemnon's tent,
To bring me thither?
Ulys.
You shall command me, sir.
As gentle tell me, of what honour was
This Cressida in Troy? Had she no lover there,
That wails her absence?
Troi.
O, sir, to such as boasting shew 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.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-morrow.—
Patroclus, let us feast him to the height.
Why, his masculine whore. Now the rotten
diseases of the south, the guts-griping, ruptures,
catarrhs, loads o'gravel i'the back, lethargies, 9notecold
palsies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten livers, wheezing lungs,
bladders full of imposthume, sciaticas, lime-kilns
i' the palm, incurable bone-ach, and the rivell'd 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?
you ruinous butt; you whoreson
indistinguishable cur, no.
Ther.
No? why art thou then exasperate, 2notethou
idle immaterial skein of sleive silk, thou green sarcenet
flap for a sore eye, thou tassel of a prodigal's purse,
thou? Ah, how the poor world is pester'd with such
water flies; diminutives of nature!
Achil.
My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite
From my great purpose in to-morrow's battle.
Here is a letter from queen Hecuba;
5noteA token from her daughter, my fair love;
Both taxing me, and gaging me to keep
An oath that I have sworn. I will not break it:
Fall, Greeks; fail, fame; honour, or go, or stay;
My major vow lies here, this I'll obey.—
Come, come, Thersites, help to trim my tent;
This night in banquetting must all be spent.—
Away, Patroclus. [Exeunt.
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 hath not so much
brain as ear-wax; 6note
And the goodly transformation of
-- 133 --
Jupiter there, his brother, the bull,—the primitive
statue, and oblique memorial of cuckolds; a thrifty
shooing-horn in a chain, hanging at his brother's leg,
—to what form, but that he is, should wit larded with
malice, and malice 7note
forced with wit, turn him? To
an ass, were nothing; he is both ass and ox: to an
ox were nothing; he is both ox and ass. To be a dog,
a mule, a cat, a fitchew, a toad, a lizard, an owl, a
-- 134 --
puttock, or a herring without a roe, I would not care:
but to be a 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! 8notespirits,
and fires!
Enter Hector, Troilus, Ajax, Agamemnon, Ulysses, Nestor, and Diomed, with lights.
Aga.
We go wrong, we go wrong.
Ajax.
No, yonder 'tis;
There, where we see the light.
Hect.
I trouble you.
Ajax.
No, not a whit.
Ulys.
Here comes himself to guide you. Enter Achilles.
Achil.
Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, princes
all.
Aga.
So now, fair prince of Troy, I bid good night.
Ajax commands the guard to tend on you.
Achil.
Good night, and welcome, both at once, to those
That go, or tarry.
Aga.
Good night. [Exeunt Agam. and Menel.
Achil.
Old Nestor tarries; and you too, Diomed,
Keep Hector company an hour or two.
Dio.
I cannot, lord; I have important business,
-- 135 --
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. [To Troilus.
Troi.
Sweet sir, you honour me.
Hect.
And so, good night.
Achil.
Come, come, enter my tent.
[Exeunt severally.
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: 9notehe
will spend his mouth, and promise, like Brabler the
hound; but when he performs, astronomers foretel
it; it is prodigious, there will come some change;
the sun borrows of the moon, when Diomed keeps
his word. I will rather leave to see Hector, than not
to dog him: 1notethey say, he keeps a Trojan drab, and
uses the traitor Calchas his tent: I'll after.—Nothing
but lechery! all incontinent varlets!
[Exit.SCENE II.Calchas' tent.Enter Diomed.
Dio.
What are you up here, ho? speak.
Cal.
Who calls?
Dio.
Diomed.—
Calchas, I think. Where is your daughter?
Cal.
She comes to you. Enter Troilus, and Ulysses, at a distance; after them Thersites.
Ulyss.
Stand where the torch may not discover us.
-- 136 --
Enter Cressida.
Troi.
Cressid come forth to him!
Dio.
How now, my charge?
Cre.
Now, my sweet guardian!—Hark,
A word with you. [Whispers.
Troi.
Yea, so familiar!
Ulyss.
She will sing any man at first sight.
Ther.
And any man
May sing her, if he can take 2note
her cliff; she's noted.
Dio.
Will you remember?
Cre.
Remember? yes.
Dio.
Nay, but do then;
And let your mind be coupled with your words.
Troi.
What should she remember?
Ulyss.
List!
Cre.
Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly.
Ther.
Roguery!
Dio.
Nay, then,—
Cre.
I'll tell you what.
Dio.
Pho! pho! come, tell a pin: You are
forsworn.—
-- 137 --
Cre.
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?
Cre.
I pr'ythee, do not hold me to mine oath;
Bid me do any thing but that, sweet Greek.
Dio.
Good night.
Troi.
Hold, patience!
Ulyss.
How now, Trojan?
Cre.
Diomed,—
Dio.
No, no, good night: I'll be your fool no
more.
Troi.
Thy better must.
Cre.
Hark, one word in your ear.
Troi.
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.
Troilus, farewel! one eye yet looks on thee;
9note
But with my heart the other eye doth see.—
Ah! poor our sex! this fault in us I find,
The error of our eye directs our mind:
What error leads, must err; O then conclude,
Minds, sway'd by eyes, are full of turpitude. [Exit.
Ther. 1noteA proof of strength she could not publish more,
Unless she say, My mind is now turn'd whore.
Ulyss.
All's done, my lord.
Troi.
It is.
Ulyss.
Why stay we then?
Troi.
To make a recordation to my soul
Of every syllable that here was spoke.
-- 142 --
But, if I tell how these two did co-act,
Shall I not lye in publishing a truth?
Sith yet there is a credence in my heart,
An esperance so obstinately strong,
2note
That doth invert the attest of eyes and ears;
As if those organs had deceptious functions,
Created only to calumniate.
Was Cressid here?
Ulyss.
Nor mine, my lord: Cressid was here but now.
Troi.
Let it not be believ'd for womanhood!
Think, we had mothers; do not give advantage
To stubborn critics—apt, without a theme,
For depravation—to square the general sex
By Cressid's rule:—rather think this not Cressid.
Ulyss.
What hath she done, prince, that can soil our mothers?
Troi.
Nothing at all, unless that this were she.
Ther.
Will he swagger himself out on's own eyes?
Troi.
This she? no, this is Diomed's Cressida:
If beauty have a soul, this is not she;
If souls guide vows, if vows be sanctimony,
If sanctimony be the gods' delight,
where reason can revolt
Without perdition, and loss assume all reason
Without revolt; this is, and is not, Cressid!
Within my soul there doth commence a fight
Of this strange nature, that a thing inseparate
Divides far wider than the sky and earth;
And yet the spacious breadth of this division
Admits no orifice for a point, as subtle
7note
As Arachne's broken woof, to enter.
-- 144 --
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 8noteknot, five-finger-tied,
The fractions of her faith, orts of her love,
The fragments, scraps, the bits, and greasy reliques
Of her 9noteo'er-eaten faith, are bound to Diomed.
Ulyss. 1noteMay worthy Troilus be half attach'd
With that which here his passion doth express?
Troi.
Ay, Greek; and that shall be divulged well
-- 145 --
In characters as red as Mars his heart
Inflam'd with Venus: never did young man fancy
With so eternal, and so fix'd a soul.
Hark, Greek;—As much as I do Cressid love,
So much by weight hate I her Diomed:
That sleeve is mine, that he'll bear on his helm;
Were it a casque compos'd by Vulcan's skill,
My sword should bite it: not the dreadful spout,
Which shipmen do the hurricano call,
Constring'd in mass by the almighty sun,
Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptune's ear
In his descent, than shall my prompted sword
Falling on Diomed.
Ther.
He'll tickle it for his concupy.
Troi.
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. 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.
Troi.
Have with you, prince:—My courteous lord, adieu:—
Farewel, revolted fair!—and, Diomed,
Stand fast, 2note
and wear a castle on thy head!
Ulyss.
I'll bring you to the gates.
-- 146 --
Troi.
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 them!
[Exit.SCENE III.The palace of Troy.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.
Consort with me in loud and dear petition,
Pursue we him on knees; for I have dreamt
Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night
Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter.
Cas.
O, it is 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 peevish 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,
4note
For us to count we give what's gain'd by thefts,
And rob in the behalf of charity.
Cas. 5noteIt is the purpose, 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 fate:
Life every man holds dear; but the 6note
dear man
Holds honour far more precious-dear than life.—
-- 148 --
Enter Troilus.
How now, young man? mean'st thou to fight today?
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 finews '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.
Troi.
Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you,
7noteWhich better sits a lion, than a man.
Hect.
What vice is that, good Troilus? chide me for it.
Troi.
When many times the captive Grecians fall,
Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword,
You bid them rise, and live.
Hect.
O, 'tis fair play.
Troi.
Fool's play, by heaven, Hector.
Hect.
How now? how now?
Troi.
For the love of all the gods,
Let's leave the hermit pity with our mother;
And when we have our armours buckled on,
The venom'd vengeance ride upon our swords;
Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth.
Hect.
Fie, savage, fie!
Troi.
Hector, then 'tis wars.
Hect.
Troilus, I would not have you fight to-day.
-- 149 --
Troi.
Who should withhold me?
Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars
Beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire;
Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees,
Their eyes o'er-galled 8notewith recourse of tears;
Nor you, my brother, with your true sword drawn,
Oppos'd to hinder me, should stop my way,
But by my ruin. Re-enter Cassandra, with Priam.
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.
Priam.
Come, Hector, come, go back:
Thy wife hath dreamt; thy mother hath had visions;
Cassandra doth foresee; and I myself
Am like a prophet suddenly enrapt,
To tell thee—that this day is ominous:
Therefore, come back.
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.
Priam.
But thou shalt not go.
Hect.
I must not break my faith.
You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sir,
Let me not shame respect; but give me leave
To take that course by your consent and voice,
Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam.
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.
-- 150 --
Troi.
This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl
Makes all these bodements.
Cas. 9noteO farewel, dear Hector.
Look, how thou dy'st! look, how thy eye turns pale!
Look, how thy wounds do bleed at many vents!
Hark, how Troy roars! how Hecuba cries out!
How poor Andromache shrills her dolours forth1note
!
Behold, distraction, frenzy, and amazement,
Like witless anticks, one another meet,
And all cry—Hector! Hector's dead! O Hector!
Troi.
Away!—Away!—
Cas.
Farewel. 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.
Priam.
Farewel: The gods with safety stand
about thee!
[Exit Priam. Alarums.
Troi.
They are at it; hark! Proud Diomed, believe,
I come to lose my arm, or win my sleeve2note.
-- 151 --
Enter Pandarus.
Pan.
Do you hear, my lord? do you hear?
Troi.
What now?
Pan.
Here's a letter come from yon' poor girl.
Troi.
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 ach in my bones, that,
unless a man were curst, I cannot tell what to think
on't.—What says she there?
Troi.
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.
Pan
Why, but hear you—
Troi. 3noteHence, broker lacquey!—ignomy and shame
Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name! [Exeunt.SCENE IV.Between Troy and the camp.[Alarum.]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
-- 152 --
would fain see them meet; that that same young
Trojan ass, that loves the whore there, might send
that Greekish whore-masterly villain, with the sleeve,
back to the dissembling luxurious drab, of a sleeveless
errand. 4noteO' the other side, The policy of those crafty
swearing rascals,—that stale old mouse-eaten dry
cheese, Nestor; and that same dog-fox, Ulysses,—is
not prov'd worth a black-berry:—They set me up,
in policy, that mungril 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 5noteto proclaim
barbarism, and policy grows into an ill opinion.
Soft! here comes sleeve, and t'other.
Enter Diomed, and Troilus.
Troi.
Fly not; for, shouldst thou take the river Styx,
I would swim after.
Dio.
Thou dost mis-call retire:
I do not fly; but advantageous care
Withdrew me from the odds of multitude:
Have at thee! [They go off fighting.
Ther.
Hold thy whore, Grecian!—now for thy
whore, Trojan!—now the sleeve, now the sleeve!
Enter Hector.
Hect.
What art thou, Greek? art thou for Hector's match?
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; But
a plague break thy neck, for frighting me! What's
become of the wenching rogues? I think, they have
swallow'd 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 Diomed, and a Servant.
Dio.
Go, go, my servant, take thou Troilus' horse7note
;
Present the fair steed to my lady Cressid:
Fellow, 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. Enter Agamemnon.
Aga.
Renew, renew! The fierce Polydamas
Hath beat down Menon: 8note
bastard Margarelon
-- 154 --
Hath Doreus prisoner;
And stands colossus-wise, waving his beam,
Upon the pashed 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: 9note
the dreadful Sagittary
Appals our numbers; haste we, Diomed,
To reinforcement, or we perish all. 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 1note
on Galathe his horse,
-- 155 --
And there lacks work; anon, he's there afoot,
And there they fly, or die, like 2note
scaled sculls
Before the belching whale; then is he yonder,
And there 3note
the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge,
Fall down before him, like the mower's swath:
Here, there, and every where, he leaves, and takes;
Dexterity so obeying appetite,
That what he will, he does; and does so much,
That proof is call'd impossibility. Enter Ulysses.
Ulyss.
O, courage, courage, princes! great Achilles
Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance:
-- 156 --
Patroclus' wounds have rouz'd his drowsy blood,
Together with his mangled Myrmidons,
That noseless, handless, hack'd and chip'd, come to him,
Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend,
And foams at mouth, and he is arm'd, and at it,
Roaring for Troilus; who hath done to-day
Mad and fantastic execution;
Engaging and redeeming of himself,
With such a careless force, and forceless care,
As if that luck, in very spite of cunning,
Bade him win all.
Enter Ajax.
Ajax.
Troilus! thou coward Troilus! [Exit.
Dio.
Ay, there, there.
Nest.
So, so, we draw together. [Exeunt.Enter Achilles.
Achil.
Where is this Hector?
Come, come, thou boy-queller, shew thy face;
Know what it is to meet Achilles angry.
Hector! where's Hector? I will none but Hector. [Exit.SCENE VI.Another part of the field.Re-enter Ajax.
Ajax.
Troilus, thou coward Troilus, shew thy head! Enter Diomed.
Dio.
Troilus, I say! where's Troilus?
Ajax.
What wouldst thou?
Dio.
I would correct him.
Ajax.
Were I the general, thou shouldst have my office,
Ere that correction:—Troilus, I say! what, Troilus!
-- 157 --
Enter Troilus.
Troi.
O traitor Diomed!—turn thy false face, thou traitor,
And pay thy life thou ow'st me for my horse!
you cogging Greeks; have at you both. [Exeunt, fighting.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. [Fight.
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.
Hect.
Fare thee well:—
I would have been much more a fresher man,
Had I expected thee.—How now, my brother?
-- 158 --
Re-enter Troilus.
Troi.
Ajax hath ta'en Æneas; Shall it be?
No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven,
He shall not carry him; I'll be taken too,
Or bring him off:—Fate, hear me what I say!
I reck not though I end my life to-day. [Exit.Enter one in armour.
Hect.
Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou art a goodly mark:—
No? wilt thou not?—5note
But I'll be master of it:—Wilt thou not, beast, abide?
Why then, fly on, I'll hunt thee for thy hide.
[Exit.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 arms7note.
-- 160 --
Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye:—
It is decreed—Hector the great must die.
[Exeunt.SCENE VIII.The same.Enter Thersites, Menelaus, and Paris.
Ther.
The cuckold, and the cuckold-maker are at
it: Now, bull! now, dog! 'Loo, Paris, 'loo! now
my double-hen'd 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's.
Ther.
I am a bastard too; I love bastards: I am a
bastard begot, bastard instructed, bastard in mind,
bastard in valour, in every thing illegitimate. One
bear will not bite another, and wherefore should one
bastard? Take heed, the quarrel's most ominous to
us: if the son of a whore fight for a whore, he
tempts judgment: Farewel, 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! Enter Achilles, and his Myrmidons.
Achil.
Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set;
How ugly night comes breathing at his heels:
-- 161 --
8noteEven with the vail and dark'ning of the sun,
To close the day up, Hector's life is done.
Achil. 1noteStrike, fellows, strike; this is the man I seek.
[Hector falls.
So, Ilion, fall thou next! now, Troy, sink down;
Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone.—
On, Myrmidons; and cry you all amain,
Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.
Hark! a retreat upon our Grecian part.
Myr.
The Trojan trumpets sound the like, my lord.
-- 162 --
Achil.
The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the earth,
2note
And, stickler-like, the armies separates.
My half-supt sword, that frankly would have fed,
Pleas'd with this dainty bit, thus goes to bed.—
Come, tie his body to my horse's tail;
Along the field I will the Trojan trail. [Exeunt.Sound retreat. Shout.SCENE X.The same.Enter Agamemnon, Ajax, Menelaus, Nestor, Diomedes, and the rest, marching.
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 as he.
Aga.
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.
-- 163 --
SCENE XI.Another part of the field.Enter Æneas, and Trojans.
Æne.
Stand, ho! yet are we masters of the field:
3noteNever go home; here starve we out the night. Enter Troilus.
Troi.
Hector is slain.
All.
Hector?—the gods forbid!
Troi.
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 Troy4note
!
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.
Troi.
You understand me not, that tell me so:
I do not speak of flight, of fear, of death;
But dare all imminence, that gods, and men,
Address their dangers in. Hector is gone!
Who shall tell Priam so, or Hecuba?
Let him, that will a screech-owl aye be call'd,
Go in to Troy, and say there—Hector's dead:
There is a word will Priam turn to stone;
Make wells and Niobes of the maids and wives,
Cold statues of the youth; and, in a word,
Scare Troy out of itself. But, march, away:
Hector is dead; there is no more to say.
Stay yet;—You vile abominable tents,
-- 164 --
Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian plains,
Let Titan rise as early as he dare,
I'll through and through you!—And thou, great-siz'd coward!
No space of earth shall sunder our two hates;
I'll haunt thee, like a wicked conscience still,
That mouldeth goblins swift as frenzy thoughts.—
Strike a free march to Troy!—with comfort go;
Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe.
[Exeunt Æneas, &c.Enter Pandarus.
Pan.
Do you hear, my lord; do you hear?
Troi. 5noteHence, broker lacquey! ignomy and shame
Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name!
[Exit Troilus.
Pan.
A goodly med'cine for my aching bones!—
Oh world! world! world! thus is the poor agent despis'd!
O traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you set a'
work, and how ill requited! Why should our endeavour
be so 6notelov'd, and the performance so loath'd?
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:
But being once subdu'd in armed tail,
Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail.—
Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted cloths.
As many as be here of pander's hall,
Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar's fall:
Or, if you cannot weep, yet give some groans,
Though not for me, yet for your aching bones.
Brethren, and sisters, of the hold-door trade,
Some two months hence my will shall here be made:
