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,
4 notelove'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 5 note
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.—6 noteAnd, my lord, he desires you, that,
if the king call for him at supper, you will make his
excuse.
Helen.
My lord Pandarus,—
Pan.
What says my sweet queen; my very very
sweet queen?
Pan note.
What exploit's in hand? where sups he tonight?
Helen.
Nay, but my lord,—
Pan.
What says my sweet queen? My cousin will
fall out with you.
Helen.
You must not know where he sups.
Par.
I'll lay my life, 7 note
with my disposer Cressida.9Q1020
Pan.
No, no, no such matter, you are wide; come,
your disposer is sick.
-- 74 --
Par.
Well, I'll make excuse.
Pan.
Ay, good my lord. Why should you say—
Cressida? no, your poor disposer's sick.
Par.
I spy8 note.
Pan.
You spy! what do you spy?—Come, give me
an instrument.—Now, sweet queen.
Helen.
Why, this is kindly done.
Pan.
My niece is horribly in love with a thing you
have, sweet queen.
Helen.
She shall have it, my lord, if it be not my
lord Paris.
Pan.
He! no, she'll none of him; they two are
twain.
Helen.
Falling in, after falling out9 note, may make
them three.
Pan.
Come, come, I'll hear no more of this; I'll
sing you a song now.
Helen.
Ay, ay, pr'ythee now. By my troth, 1 notesweet
lord, thou hast a fine 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 wounds2 note,
But tickles still the sore.
-- 75 --
These lovers cry—Oh! oh! they die!
3 note
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, 4 note
tun'd too sharp in sweetness,
For the capacity of my ruder powers:
I fear it much; and I do fear besides,
That I shall lose distinction in my joys;
As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps
The 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 majesty5 note
.
-- 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 tame6 note
,
must you? Come your ways, come your ways; an you
draw backward, 7 notewe'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. 8 note
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 it9 note: no perfection in reversion
shall have a praise in present: we will not name
desert, before his birth; and, being born, 1 notehis 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 thrown2 note
.
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: 1 note
But you are wise;
Or else you love not; 2 note
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
3 noteMight 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,
-- 83 --
4 noteAnd simpler than the infancy of truth.
Cre.
In that I'll war with you.
Troi.
O virtuous fight,
When right with right wars who shall be most right!
5 note
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 6 note
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,
7 noteAs 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 8 note
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. 9 note
Appear it to your mind,
-- 86 --
That, 1 note
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,
2 note
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 3 notederision 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—4 note
how dearly ever parted,
How much in having, or without, or in,—
Cannot make boast to have that which he hath,
Nor feels not what he owes, but by reflection;
As when his virtues shining upon others
Heat them, and they retort that heat again
To the first giver.
Achil.
This is not strange, Ulysses.
The beauty that is borne here in the face,
The bearer knows not, but commends itself
5 note
To others' eyes: nor doth the eye itself6 note
,
-- 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, 7 notein 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
8 noteThe 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 --
9 noteHow 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 1 notefeasting 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.
2 noteTime hath, my lord, a wallet at his back,
Wherein he puts alms for oblivion,
A great-siz'd monster of ingratitudes:
Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd
As fast as they are made, forgot as soon
As done: 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 hindmost3 note
;—
-- 93 --
Or like a gallant horse fallen in first rank,
Lie there for pavement 4 note
to the abject rear,
5 note
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; 6 note
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;
7 note
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,
8 note
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 daughters9 note.
Achil.
Ha! known?
Ulyss.
Is that a wonder?
The providence that's in a watchful state,
-- 95 --
1 note
Knows almost every grain of Pluto's gold;
Finds bottom in the uncomprehensive deeps;
2 noteKeeps place with thought; and almost, like the gods,
Does thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles.
There is a mystery (3 note
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 4 note
to air.
Achil.
Shall Ajax fight with Hector?
Patr.
Ay; and, perhaps, receive much honour by him.
Achil.
I see, my reputation is at stake;
My fame is shrewdly gor'd.
Patr.
O, then beware;
Those wounds heal ill, that men do give themselves:
5 noteOmission to do what is necessary
Seals a commission to a blank of danger;
And danger, like an ague, subtly taints
Even then when we sit idly in the sun.
Achil.
Go call Thersites hither, sweet Patroclus:
I'll send the fool to Ajax, and desire him
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 1 notewith 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 on1 note.
Achil.
Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight.
Ther.
Let me bear another to his horse; for that's
the more capable 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 --
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
