1602
THE HISTORY OF
TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
by William Shakespeare
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
PRIAM, King of Troy
His sons:
HECTOR
TROILUS
PARIS
DEIPHOBUS
HELENUS
MARGARELON, a bastard son of Priam
Trojan commanders:
AENEAS
ANTENOR
CALCHAS, a Trojan priest, taking part with the Greeks
PANDARUS, uncle to Cressida
AGAMEMNON, the Greek general
MENELAUS, his brother
Greek commanders:
ACHILLES
AJAX
ULYSSES
NESTOR
DIOMEDES
PATROCLUS
THERSITES, a deformed and scurrilous Greek
ALEXANDER, servant to Cressida
SERVANT to Troilus
SERVANT to Paris
SERVANT to Diomedes
HELEN, wife to Menelaus
ANDROMACHE, wife to Hector
CASSANDRA, daughter to Priam, a prophetess
CRESSIDA, daughter to Calchas
Trojan and Greek Soldiers, and Attendants
SCENE:
Troy and the Greek camp before it
PROLOGUE
TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
PROLOGUE
In Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of Greece
The princes 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 th' 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 war-like fraughtage. Now on Dardan plains
The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch
Their brave pavilions: Priam's six-gated city,
Dardan, and Tymbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien,
And Antenorides, with massy staples
And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts,
Sperr up the sons of Troy.
Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits
On one and other side, Troyan and Greek,
Sets all on hazard-and hither am I come
A 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 the vaunt and firstlings of those broils,
Beginning 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 1.
Troy. Before PRIAM'S palace
Enter TROILUS armed, and PANDARUS
TROILUS. Call here my varlet; I'll unarm again.
Why should I war without the walls of Troy
That find such cruel battle here within?
Each Troyan that is master of his heart,
Let him to field; Troilus, alas, hath none!
PANDARUS. Will this gear ne'er be mended?
TROILUS. 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,
Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance,
Less valiant than the virgin in the night,
And skilless as unpractis'd infancy.
PANDARUS. Well, I have told you enough of this; for my part,
I'll not meddle nor make no farther. He that will have a cake
out of the wheat must needs tarry the grinding.
TROILUS. Have I not tarried?
PANDARUS. Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the bolting.
TROILUS. Have I not tarried?
PANDARUS. Ay, the bolting; but you must tarry the leavening.
TROILUS. Still have I tarried.
PANDARUS. 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.
TROILUS. Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be,
Doth lesser blench at suff'rance than I do.
At Priam's royal table do I sit;
And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts-
So, traitor, then she comes when she is thence.
PANDARUS. Well, she look'd yesternight fairer than ever I saw her
look, or any woman else.
TROILUS. 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 storm,
Buried 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.
PANDARUS. 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-
TROILUS. 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'-
Pourest 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 comparison all whites are ink
Writing their own reproach; to whose soft seizure
The cygnet's down is harsh, and spirit of sense
Hard as the palm of ploughman! This thou tell'st me,
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.
PANDARUS. I speak no more than truth.
TROILUS. Thou dost not speak so much.
PANDARUS. Faith, I'll not meddle in it. Let her be as she is: if
she be fair, 'tis the better for her; an she be not, she has the
mends in her own hands.
TROILUS. Good Pandarus! How now, Pandarus!
PANDARUS. I have had my labour for my travail, ill thought on of
her and ill thought on of you; gone between and between, but
small thanks for my labour.
TROILUS. What, art thou angry, Pandarus? What, with me?
PANDARUS. Because she's kin to me, therefore she's not so fair as
Helen. An she were not kin to me, she would be as fair a Friday
as Helen is on Sunday. But what care I? I care not an she were a
blackamoor; 'tis all one to me.
TROILUS. Say I she is not fair?
PANDARUS. 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 i' th' matter.
TROILUS. Pandarus!
PANDARUS. Not I.
TROILUS. Sweet Pandarus!
PANDARUS. Pray you, speak no more to me: I will leave all
as I found it, and there an end. Exit. Sound alarum
TROILUS. 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 tetchy to be woo'd to woo
As she is stubborn-chaste against all suit.
Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne's love,
What Cressid is, what Pandar, and what we?
Her bed is India; there she lies, a pearl;
Between our Ilium and where she resides
Let it be call'd the wild and wand'ring flood;
Ourself the merchant, and this sailing Pandar
Our doubtful hope, our convoy, and our bark.
Alarum. Enter AENEAS
AENEAS. How now, Prince Troilus! Wherefore not afield?
TROILUS. Because not there. This woman's answer sorts,
For womanish it is to be from thence.
What news, Aeneas, from the field to-day?
AENEAS. That Paris is returned home, and hurt.
TROILUS. By whom, Aeneas?
AENEAS. Troilus, by Menelaus.
TROILUS. Let Paris bleed: 'tis but a scar to scorn;
Paris is gor'd with Menelaus' horn. [Alarum]
AENEAS. Hark what good sport is out of town to-day!
TROILUS. Better at home, if 'would I might' were 'may.'
But to the sport abroad. Are you bound thither?
AENEAS. In all swift haste.
TROILUS. Come, go we then together. Exeunt
ACT I. SCENE 2.
Troy. A street
Enter CRESSIDA and her man ALEXANDER
CRESSIDA. Who were those went by?
ALEXANDER. Queen Hecuba and Helen.
CRESSIDA. And whither go they?
ALEXANDER. Up to the eastern tower,
Whose height commands as subject all the vale,
To see the battle. Hector, whose patience
Is as a virtue fix'd, to-day was mov'd.
He chid Andromache, and struck his armourer;
And, like as there were husbandry in war,
Before the sun rose he was harness'd light,
And to the field goes he; where every flower
Did as a prophet weep what it foresaw
In Hector's wrath.
CRESSIDA. What was his cause of anger?
ALEXANDER. The noise goes, this: there is among the Greeks
A lord of Troyan blood, nephew to Hector;
They call him Ajax.
CRESSIDA. Good; and what of him?
ALEXANDER. They say he is a very man per se,
And stands alone.
CRESSIDA. So do all men, unless they are drunk, sick, or have no
legs.
ALEXANDER. This man, lady, hath robb'd many beasts of their
particular additions: he is as valiant as a lion, churlish as the
bear, slow as the elephant-a man into whom nature hath so crowded
humours that his valour is crush'd 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 hair; he
hath the joints of every thing; but everything so out of joint
that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no use, or purblind
Argus, all eyes and no sight.
CRESSIDA. But how should this man, that makes me smile, make Hector
angry?
ALEXANDER. 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.
Enter PANDARUS
CRESSIDA. Who comes here?
ALEXANDER. Madam, your uncle Pandarus.
CRESSIDA. Hector's a gallant man.
ALEXANDER. As may be in the world, lady.
PANDARUS. What's that? What's that?
CRESSIDA. Good morrow, uncle Pandarus.
PANDARUS. Good morrow, cousin Cressid. What do you talk of?- Good
morrow, Alexander.-How do you, cousin? When were you at Ilium?
CRESSIDA. This morning, uncle.
PANDARUS. What were you talking of when I came? Was Hector arm'd
and gone ere you came to Ilium? Helen was not up, was she?
CRESSIDA. Hector was gone; but Helen was not up.
PANDARUS. E'en so. Hector was stirring early.
CRESSIDA. That were we talking of, and of his anger.
PANDARUS. Was he angry?
CRESSIDA. So he says here.
PANDARUS. True, he was so; I know the cause too; he'll lay about
him today, 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.
CRESSIDA. What, is he angry too?
PANDARUS. Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better man of the two.
CRESSIDA. O Jupiter! there's no comparison.
PANDARUS. What, not between Troilus and Hector? Do you know a man
if you see him?
CRESSIDA. Ay, if I ever saw him before and knew him.
PANDARUS. Well, I say Troilus is Troilus.
CRESSIDA. Then you say as I say, for I am sure he is not Hector.
PANDARUS. No, nor Hector is not Troilus in some degrees.
CRESSIDA. 'Tis just to each of them: he is himself.
PANDARUS. Himself! Alas, poor Troilus! I would he were!
CRESSIDA. So he is.
PANDARUS. Condition I had gone barefoot to India.
CRESSIDA. He is not Hector.
PANDARUS. 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.
CRESSIDA. Excuse me.
PANDARUS. He is elder.
CRESSIDA. Pardon me, pardon me.
PANDARUS. Th' other's not come to't; you shall tell me another tale
when th' other's come to't. Hector shall not have his wit this
year.
CRESSIDA. He shall not need it if he have his own.
PANDARUS. Nor his qualities.
CRESSIDA. No matter.
PANDARUS. Nor his beauty.
CRESSIDA. 'Twould not become him: his own's better.
PANDARUS. YOU have no judgment, niece. Helen herself swore th'
other day that Troilus, for a brown favour, for so 'tis, I must
confess- not brown neither-
CRESSIDA. No, but brown.
PANDARUS. Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown.
CRESSIDA. To say the truth, true and not true.
PANDARUS. She prais'd his complexion above Paris.
CRESSIDA. Why, Paris hath colour enough.
PANDARUS. So he has.
CRESSIDA. 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 praise for a good
complexion. I had as lief Helen's golden tongue had commended
Troilus for a copper nose.
PANDARUS. I swear to you I think Helen loves him better than Paris.
CRESSIDA. Then she's a merry Greek indeed.
PANDARUS. Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him th' other day
into the compass'd window-and you know he has not past three or
four hairs on his chin-
CRESSIDA. Indeed a tapster's arithmetic may soon bring his
particulars therein to a total.
PANDARUS. Why, he is very young, and yet will he within three pound
lift as much as his brother Hector.
CRESSIDA. Is he so young a man and so old a lifter?
PANDARUS. But to prove to you that Helen loves him: she came and
puts me her white hand to his cloven chin-
CRESSIDA. Juno have mercy! How came it cloven?
PANDARUS. Why, you know, 'tis dimpled. I think his smiling becomes
him better than any man in all Phrygia.
CRESSIDA. O, he smiles valiantly!
PANDARUS. Does he not?
CRESSIDA. O yes, an 'twere a cloud in autumn!
PANDARUS. Why, go to, then! But to prove to you that Helen loves
Troilus-
CRESSIDA. Troilus will stand to the proof, if you'll prove it so.
PANDARUS. Troilus! Why, he esteems her no more than I esteem an
addle egg.
CRESSIDA. If you love an addle egg as well as you love an idle
head, you would eat chickens i' th' shell.
PANDARUS. I cannot choose but laugh to think how she tickled his
chin. Indeed, she has a marvell's white hand, I must needs
confess.
CRESSIDA. Without the rack.
PANDARUS. And she takes upon her to spy a white hair on his chin.
CRESSIDA. Alas, poor chin! Many a wart is richer.
PANDARUS. But there was such laughing! Queen Hecuba laugh'd that
her eyes ran o'er.
CRESSIDA. With millstones.
PANDARUS. And Cassandra laugh'd.
CRESSIDA. But there was a more temperate fire under the pot of her
eyes. Did her eyes run o'er too?
PANDARUS. And Hector laugh'd.
CRESSIDA. At what was all this laughing?
PANDARUS. Marry, at the white hair that Helen spied on Troilus'
chin.
CRESSIDA. An't had been a green hair I should have laugh'd too.
PANDARUS. They laugh'd not so much at the hair as at his pretty
answer.
CRESSIDA. What was his answer?
PANDARUS. Quoth she 'Here's but two and fifty hairs on your chin,
and one of them is white.'
CRESSIDA. This is her question.
PANDARUS. That's true; make no question of that. 'Two and fifty
hairs,' quoth he 'and one white. That white hair is my father,
and all the rest are his sons.' 'Jupiter!' quoth she 'which of
these hairs is Paris my husband?' 'The forked one,' quoth he,
'pluck't 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.
CRESSIDA. So let it now; for it has been a great while going by.
PANDARUS. Well, cousin, I told you a thing yesterday; think on't.
CRESSIDA. So I do.
PANDARUS. I'll be sworn 'tis true; he will weep you, and 'twere a
man born in April.
CRESSIDA. And I'll spring up in his tears, an 'twere a nettle
against May. [Sound a retreat]
PANDARUS. 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.
CRESSIDA. At your pleasure.
PANDARUS. Here, here, here's an excellent place; here we may see
most bravely. I'll tell you them all by their names as they pass
by; but mark Troilus above the rest.
AENEAS passes
CRESSIDA. Speak not so loud.
PANDARUS. That's Aeneas. 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.
ANTENOR passes
CRESSIDA. Who's that?
PANDARUS. That's Antenor. He has a shrewd wit, I can tell you; and
he's a man good enough; he's one o' th' soundest judgments in
Troy, whosoever, and a proper man of person. When comes Troilus?
I'll show you Troilus anon. If he see me, you shall see him nod
at me.
CRESSIDA. Will he give you the nod?
PANDARUS. You shall see.
CRESSIDA. If he do, the rich shall have more.
HECTOR passes
PANDARUS. 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?
CRESSIDA. O, a brave man!
PANDARUS. Is 'a not? It does a man's heart good. Look you what
hacks are on his helmet! Look you yonder, do you see? Look you
there. There's no jesting; there's laying on; take't off who
will, as they say. There be hacks.
CRESSIDA. Be those with swords?
PANDARUS. Swords! anything, 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.
PARIS passes
Look ye yonder, niece; is't not a gallant man too, is't not? Why,
this is brave now. Who said he came hurt home to-day? He's not
hurt. Why, this will do Helen's heart good now, ha! Would I could
see Troilus now! You shall see Troilus anon.
HELENUS passes
CRESSIDA. Who's that?
PANDARUS. That's Helenus. I marvel where Troilus is. That's
Helenus. I think he went not forth to-day. That's Helenus.
CRESSIDA. Can Helenus fight, uncle?
PANDARUS. 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.
CRESSIDA. What sneaking fellow comes yonder?
TROILUS passes
PANDARUS. Where? yonder? That's Deiphobus. 'Tis Troilus. There's a
man, niece. Hem! Brave Troilus, the prince of chivalry!
CRESSIDA. Peace, for shame, peace!
PANDARUS. Mark him; note him. O brave Troilus! Look well upon him,
niece; look you how his sword is bloodied, and his helm more
hack'd than Hector's; and how he looks, and how he goes! O
admirable youth! he never saw three and twenty. Go thy way,
Troilus, go thy way. Had I a sister were a grace or a daughter a
goddess, he should take his choice. O admirable man! Paris? Paris
is dirt to him; and, I warrant, Helen, to change, would give an
eye to boot.
CRESSIDA. Here comes more.
Common soldiers pass
PANDARUS. Asses, fools, dolts! chaff and bran, chaff and bran!
porridge after meat! I could live and die in 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.
CRESSIDA. There is amongst the Greeks Achilles, a better man than
Troilus.
PANDARUS. Achilles? A drayman, a porter, a very camel!
CRESSIDA. Well, well.
PANDARUS. 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?
CRESSIDA. Ay, a minc'd man; and then to be bak'd with no date in
the pie, for then the man's date is out.
PANDARUS. You are such a woman! A man knows not at what ward you
lie.
CRESSIDA. Upon my back, to defend my belly; upon 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, at a thousand watches.
PANDARUS. Say one of your watches.
CRESSIDA. 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's past watching
PANDARUS. You are such another!
Enter TROILUS' BOY
BOY. Sir, my lord would instantly speak with you.
PANDARUS. Where?
BOY. At your own house; there he unarms him.
PANDARUS. Good boy, tell him I come. Exit Boy
I doubt he be hurt. Fare ye well, good niece.
CRESSIDA. Adieu, uncle.
PANDARUS. I will be with you, niece, by and by.
CRESSIDA. To bring, uncle.
PANDARUS. Ay, a token from Troilus.
CRESSIDA. By the same token, you are a bawd.
Exit PANDARUS
Words, vows, gifts, tears, and love's full sacrifice,
He offers in another's enterprise;
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; joy's soul lies in the doing.
That she belov'd knows nought that knows not this:
Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is.
That she was never yet that ever knew
Love got so sweet as when desire did sue;
Therefore this maxim out of love I teach:
Achievement is command; ungain'd, beseech.
Then though my heart's content firm love doth bear,
Nothing of that shall from mine eyes appear. Exit
ACT I. SCENE 3.
The Grecian camp. Before AGAMEMNON'S tent
Sennet. Enter AGAMEMNON, NESTOR, ULYSSES, DIOMEDES,
MENELAUS, and others
AGAMEMNON. Princes,
What grief hath set these jaundies o'er 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,
Infects the sound pine, and diverts his grain
Tortive and errant from his course of growth.
Nor, princes, is it matter new to us
That we come short of our suppose so far
That after seven years' siege yet Troy walls stand;
Sith every action that hath gone before,
Whereof we have record, trial did draw
Bias and thwart, not answering the aim,
And that unbodied figure of the thought
That gave't surmised shape. Why then, you princes,
Do you with cheeks abash'd behold our works
And call 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 broad and powerful fan,
Puffing at all, winnows the light away;
And what hath mass or matter by itself
Lies rich in virtue and unmingled.
NESTOR. With due observance of thy godlike seat,
Great Agamemnon, 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 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-rivall'd greatness? Either to harbour fled
Or made a toast for Neptune. Even so
Doth valour's show and valour's worth divide
In storms of fortune; for in her ray and brightness
The herd hath more annoyance by the breeze
Than by the tiger; but when the splitting wind
Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks,
And flies fled under shade-why, then the thing of courage
As rous'd with rage, with rage doth sympathise,
And with an accent tun'd in self-same key
Retorts to chiding fortune.
ULYSSES. 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, [To AGAMEMNON] most mighty, for thy place and sway,
[To NESTOR] And, thou most reverend, for thy stretch'd-out life,
I give to both your speeches- which were such
As Agamemnon and the hand of Greece
Should hold up high in brass; and such again
As venerable Nestor, hatch'd in silver,
Should with a bond of air, strong as the 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.
AGAMEMNON. 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 mastic jaws,
We shall hear music, wit, and oracle.
ULYSSES. Troy, yet upon his basis, had been down,
And the great Hector's sword had lack'd a master,
But for these instances:
The specialty of rule hath been neglected;
And look how many Grecian tents do stand
Hollow upon this plain, so many hollow factions.
When that the general is not like the hive,
To whom the foragers shall all repair,
What honey is expected? Degree being vizarded,
Th' unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask.
The heavens themselves, the planets, and this centre,
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. But when the planets
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 states
Quite from their fixture! O, when degree is shak'd,
Which is the ladder of all high designs,
The enterprise is sick! How could communities,
Degrees in schools, and brotherhoods in cities,
Peaceful commerce from dividable shores,
The primogenity and due of birth,
Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels,
But by degree, stand in authentic place?
Take but degree away, untune that string,
And hark what discord follows! Each thing melts
In mere 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.
Then everything includes itself in power,
Power into will, will into appetite;
And appetite, an universal wolf,
So doubly seconded with will and power,
Must make perforce an universal prey,
And last eat up himself. Great Agamemnon,
This chaos, when degree is suffocate,
Follows the choking.
And this neglection of degree it is
That by a pace goes backward, with a purpose
It hath to climb. The general's disdain'd
By him one step below, he by the next,
That next by him beneath; so ever step,
Exampl'd by the first pace that is sick
Of his superior, grows to an envious fever
Of pale and bloodless 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.
NESTOR. Most wisely hath Ulysses here discover'd
The fever whereof all our power is sick.
AGAMEMNON. The nature of the sickness found, Ulysses,
What is the remedy?
ULYSSES. 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 awkward action-
Which, slanderer, he imitation calls-
He pageants us. Sometime, great Agamemnon,
Thy topless deputation he puts on;
And like a strutting player whose conceit
Lies in his hamstring, and doth think it rich
To hear the wooden dialogue and sound
'Twixt his stretch'd footing and the scaffoldage-
Such to-be-pitied and o'er-wrested seeming
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 dropp'd,
Would seem hyperboles. At this fusty stuff
The large Achilles, on his press'd bed lolling,
From his deep chest laughs out a loud applause;
Cries 'Excellent! 'tis Agamemnon just.
Now play me Nestor; hem, and stroke thy beard,
As he being drest to some oration.'
That's done-as near as the extremest ends
Of parallels, as like Vulcan and his wife;
Yet god 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-fumbling on his gorget,
Shake in and out the rivet. And at this sport
Sir Valour dies; cries 'O, enough, Patroclus;
Or give me ribs of steel! I shall split all
In pleasure of my spleen.' And in this fashion
All our abilities, gifts, natures, shapes,
Severals and generals of grace exact,
Achievements, 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 to make paradoxes.
NESTOR. And in the imitation of these twain-
Who, as Ulysses says, opinion crowns
With an imperial voice-many are infect.
Ajax is grown self-will'd and bears his head
In such a 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,
How rank soever rounded in with danger.
ULYSSES. They tax our policy and call it cowardice,
Count wisdom as no member of the war,
Forestall prescience, and esteem no act
But that of hand. The still and mental parts
That do contrive how many hands shall strike
When fitness calls them on, and know, by measure
Of their observant toil, the enemies' weight-
Why, this hath not a finger's dignity:
They call this bed-work, mapp'ry, closet-war;
So that the ram that batters down the wall,
For the great swinge and rudeness of his poise,
They place before his hand that made the engine,
Or those that with the fineness of their souls
By reason guide his execution.
NESTOR. Let this be granted, and Achilles' horse
Makes many Thetis' sons. [Tucket]
AGAMEMNON. What trumpet? Look, Menelaus.
MENELAUS. From Troy.
Enter AENEAS
AGAMEMNON. What would you fore our tent?
AENEAS. Is this great Agamemnon's tent, I pray you?
AGAMEMNON. Even this.
AENEAS. May one that is a herald and a prince
Do a fair message to his kingly eyes?
AGAMEMNON. With surety stronger than Achilles' an
Fore all the Greekish heads, which with one voice
Call Agamemnon head and general.
AENEAS. Fair leave and large security. How may
A stranger to those most imperial looks
Know them from eyes of other mortals?
AGAMEMNON. How?
AENEAS. Ay;
I ask, that I might waken reverence,
And bid the cheek be ready with a blush
Modest as Morning when she coldly eyes
The youthful Phoebus.
Which is that god in office, guiding men?
Which is the high and mighty Agamemnon?
AGAMEMNON. This Troyan scorns us, or the men of Troy
Are ceremonious courtiers.
AENEAS. 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, Aeneas,
Peace, Troyan; 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.
AGAMEMNON. Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself Aeneas?
AENEAS. Ay, Greek, that is my name.
AGAMEMNON. What's your affair, I pray you?
AENEAS. Sir, pardon; 'tis for Agamemnon's ears.
AGAMEMNON. He hears nought privately that comes from Troy.
AENEAS. Nor I from Troy come not to whisper with him;
I bring a trumpet to awake his ear,
To set his sense on the attentive bent,
And then to speak.
AGAMEMNON. Speak frankly as the wind;
It is not Agamemnon's sleeping hour.
That thou shalt know, Troyan, he is awake,
He tells thee so himself.
AENEAS. 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.
[Sound trumpet]
We have, great Agamemnon, here in Troy
A prince called Hector-Priam is his father-
Who in this dull and long-continued truce
Is resty 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 more than in confession
With truant vows to her own lips he loves,
And dare avow her beauty and her worth
In other arms than hers-to him this challenge.
Hector, in view of Troyans and of Greeks,
Shall make it good or do his best to do it:
He hath a lady wiser, fairer, truer,
Than ever Greek did couple 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 sunburnt and not worth
The splinter of a lance. Even so much.
AGAMEMNON. This shall be told our lovers, Lord Aeneas.
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.
NESTOR. 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 mould
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,
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 prove this truth with my three drops of blood.
AENEAS. Now heavens forfend such scarcity of youth!
ULYSSES. Amen.
AGAMEMNON. Fair Lord Aeneas, let me touch your hand;
To our pavilion shall I lead you, first.
Achilles shall have word of this intent;
So shall each lord of Greece, from tent to tent.
Yourself shall feast with us before you go,
And find the welcome of a noble foe.
Exeunt all but ULYSSES and NESTOR
ULYSSES. Nestor!
NESTOR. What says Ulysses?
ULYSSES. I have a young conception in my brain;
Be you my time to bring it to some shape.
NESTOR. What is't?
ULYSSES. This 'tis:
Blunt wedges rive hard knots. The seeded pride
That hath to this maturity blown up
In rank Achilles must or now be cropp'd
Or, shedding, breed a nursery of like evil
To overbulk us all.
NESTOR. Well, and how?
ULYSSES. This challenge that the gallant Hector sends,
However it is spread in general name,
Relates in purpose only to Achilles.
NESTOR. True. The purpose is perspicuous even as substance
Whose grossness little characters sum up;
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.
ULYSSES. And wake him to the answer, think you?
NESTOR. Why, 'tis most meet. Who may you else oppose
That can from Hector bring those honours off,
If not Achilles? Though 't be a sportful combat,
Yet in this trial much opinion dwells;
For here the Troyans taste our dear'st repute
With their fin'st palate; and trust to me, Ulysses,
Our imputation shall be oddly pois'd
In this vile action; for the success,
Although particular, shall give a scantling
Of good or bad unto the general;
And in such indexes, although small pricks
To their subsequent volumes, there is seen
The baby figure of the giant mas
Of things to come at large. It is suppos'd
He that meets Hector issues from our choice;
And choice, being mutual act of all our souls,
Makes merit her election, and doth boil,
As 'twere from forth us all, a man distill'd
Out of our virtues; who miscarrying,
What heart receives from hence a conquering part,
To steel a strong opinion to themselves?
Which entertain'd, limbs are his instruments,
In no less working than are swords and bows
Directive by the limbs.
ULYSSES. Give pardon to my speech.
Therefore 'tis meet Achilles meet not Hector.
Let us, like merchants, show our foulest wares
And think perchance they'll sell; if not, the lustre
Of the better yet to show shall show the better,
By showing the worst first. 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.
NESTOR. I see them not with my old eyes. What are they?
ULYSSES. What glory our Achilles shares from Hector,
Were he not proud, we all should wear with him;
But he already is too insolent;
And it were better parch in Afric sun
Than in the pride and salt scorn of his eyes,
Should he scape Hector fair. If he were foil'd,
Why, then we do our main opinion crush
In taint of our best man. No, make a lott'ry;
And, by device, let blockish Ajax draw
The sort to fight with Hector. Among ourselves
Give him allowance for the better man;
For that will physic 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.
NESTOR. Now, Ulysses, I begin to relish thy advice;
And I will give a taste thereof forthwith
To Agamemnon. Go we to him straight.
Two curs shall tame each other: pride alone
Must tarre the mastiffs on, as 'twere their bone. Exeunt
ACT II. SCENE 1.
The Grecian camp
Enter Ajax and THERSITES
AJAX. Thersites!
THERSITES. Agamemnon-how if he had boils full, an over, generally?
AJAX. Thersites!
THERSITES. And those boils did run-say so. Did not the general run
then? Were not that a botchy core?
AJAX. Dog!
THERSITES. 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]
THERSITES. The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel beef-witted
lord!
AJAX. Speak, then, thou whinid'st leaven, speak. I will beat thee
into handsomeness.
THERSITES. 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. Toadstool, learn me the proclamation.
THERSITES. Dost thou think I have no sense, thou strikest me thus?
AJAX. The proclamation!
THERSITES. Thou art proclaim'd, a fool, I think.
AJAX. Do not, porpentine, do not; my fingers itch.
THERSITES. I would thou didst itch from head to foot and I had the
scratching of thee; I would make thee the loathsomest scab in
Greece. When thou art forth in the incursions, thou strikest as
slow as another.
AJAX. I say, the proclamation.
THERSITES. Thou grumblest and railest every hour on Achilles; and
thou art as full of envy at his greatness as Cerberus is at
Proserpina's beauty-ay, that thou bark'st at him.
AJAX. Mistress Thersites!
THERSITES. Thou shouldst strike him.
AJAX. Cobloaf!
THERSITES. He would pun thee into shivers with his fist, as a
sailor breaks a biscuit.
AJAX. You whoreson cur! [Strikes him]
THERSITES. Do, do.
AJAX. Thou stool for a witch!
THERSITES. Ay, do, do; thou sodden-witted lord! Thou hast no more
brain than I have in mine elbows; an assinico may tutor thee. You
scurvy valiant ass! Thou art here but to thrash Troyans, 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!
THERSITES. You scurvy lord!
AJAX. You cur! [Strikes him]
THERSITES. Mars his idiot! Do, rudeness; do, camel; do, do.
Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS
ACHILLES. Why, how now, Ajax! Wherefore do you thus?
How now, Thersites! What's the matter, man?
THERSITES. You see him there, do you?
ACHILLES. Ay; what's the matter?
THERSITES. Nay, look upon him.
ACHILLES. So I do. What's the matter?
THERSITES. Nay, but regard him well.
ACHILLES. Well! why, so I do.
THERSITES. But yet you look not well upon him; for who some ever
you take him to be, he is Ajax.
ACHILLES. I know that, fool.
THERSITES. Ay, but that fool knows not himself.
AJAX. Therefore I beat thee.
THERSITES. 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 mater is 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.
ACHILLES. What?
THERSITES. I say this Ajax- [AJAX offers to strike him]
ACHILLES. Nay, good Ajax.
THERSITES. Has not so much wit-
ACHILLES. Nay, I must hold you.
THERSITES. As will stop the eye of Helen's needle, for whom he
comes to fight.
ACHILLES. Peace, fool.
THERSITES. I would have peace and quietness, but the fool will not-
he there; that he; look you there.
AJAX. O thou damned cur! I shall-
ACHILLES. Will you set your wit to a fool's?
THERSITES. No, I warrant you, the fool's will shame it.
PATROCLUS. Good words, Thersites.
ACHILLES. What's the quarrel?
AJAX. I bade the vile owl go learn me the tenour of the
proclamation, and he rails upon me.
THERSITES. I serve thee not.
AJAX. Well, go to, go to.
THERSITES. I serve here voluntary.
ACHILLES. Your last service was suff'rance; 'twas not voluntary. No
man is beaten voluntary. Ajax was here the voluntary, and you as
under an impress.
THERSITES. E'en so; a great deal of your wit too lies in your
sinews, or else there be liars. Hector shall have a great catch
an he knock out either of your brains: 'a were as good crack a
fusty nut with no kernel.
ACHILLES. What, with me too, Thersites?
THERSITES. There's Ulysses and old Nestor-whose wit was mouldy ere
your grandsires had nails on their toes-yoke you like draught
oxen, and make you plough up the wars.
ACHILLES. What, what?
THERSITES. Yes, good sooth. To Achilles, to Ajax, to-
AJAX. I shall cut out your tongue.
THERSITES. 'Tis no matter; I shall speak as much as thou
afterwards.
PATROCLUS. No more words, Thersites; peace!
THERSITES. I will hold my peace when Achilles' brach bids me, shall
I?
ACHILLES. There's for you, Patroclus.
THERSITES. 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
PATROCLUS. A good riddance.
ACHILLES. 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,
To-morrow morning, call some knight to arms
That hath a stomach; and such a one that dare
Maintain I know not what; 'tis trash. Farewell.
AJAX. Farewell. Who shall answer him?
ACHILLES. I know not; 'tis put to lott'ry. Otherwise. He knew his
man.
AJAX. O, meaning you! I will go learn more of it. Exeunt
ACT II. SCENE 2.
Troy. PRIAM'S palace
Enter PRIAM, HECTOR, TROILUS, PARIS, and HELENUS
PRIAM. 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, travail, expense,
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?
HECTOR. 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 spongy 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 th' bottom of the worst. Let Helen go.
Since the first sword was drawn about this question,
Every tithe soul 'mongst many thousand dismes
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, nor 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?
TROILUS. Fie, fie, my brother!
Weigh you the worth and honour of a king,
So great as our dread father's, in a scale
Of common ounces? Will you with counters sum
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!
HELENUS. 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?
TROILUS. 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
And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove,
Or like a star disorb'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 lustihood deject.
HECTOR. Brother, she is not worth what she doth, cost
The keeping.
TROILUS. What's aught but as 'tis valued?
HECTOR. 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-I
And the will dotes that is attributive
To what infectiously itself affects,
Without some image of th' affected merit.
TROILUS. 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
When we have soil'd them; nor the remainder viands
We do not throw in unrespective sieve,
Because we now are full. It was thought meet
Paris should do some vengeance on the Greeks;
Your breath with full consent benied 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 stale 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 cried 'Go, go'-
If you'll confess he brought home worthy prize-
As you must needs, for you all clapp'd your hands,
And cried 'Inestimable!' -why do you now
The issue of your proper wisdoms rate,
And do a deed that never fortune did-
Beggar the estimation which you priz'd
Richer than sea and land? O theft most base,
That we have stol'n what we do fear to keep!
But thieves unworthy of a thing so stol'n
That in their country did them that disgrace
We fear to warrant in our native place!
CASSANDRA. [Within] Cry, Troyans, cry.
PRIAM. What noise, what shriek is this?
TROILUS. 'Tis our mad sister; I do know her voice.
CASSANDRA. [Within] Cry, Troyans.
HECTOR. It is Cassandra.
Enter CASSANDRA, raving
CASSANDRA. Cry, Troyans, cry. Lend me ten thousand eyes,
And I will fill them with prophetic tears.
HECTOR. Peace, sister, peace.
CASSANDRA. Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled eld,
Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry,
Add to my clamours. Let us pay betimes
A moiety of that mass of moan to come.
Cry, Troyans, cry. Practise your eyes with tears.
Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand;
Our firebrand brother, Paris, burns us all.
Cry, Troyans, cry, A Helen and a woe!
Cry, cry. Troy burns, or else let Helen go. Exit
HECTOR. 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?
TROILUS. Why, brother Hector,
We may not think the justness of each act
Such and no other than event doth form it;
Nor once deject the courage of our minds
Because Cassandra's mad. Her brain-sick raptures
Cannot distaste 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 might offend the weakest spleen
To fight for and maintain.
PARIS. 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 of
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.
PRIAM. 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.
PARIS. 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
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.
HECTOR. 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 Aristode thought
Unfit to hear moral philosophy.
The reasons you allege do more conduce
To the hot passion of distemp'red 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 rend'red 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 benumbed wills, resist the same;
There 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-
As it is known she is-these moral laws
Of nature and of nations speak aloud
To have her back return'd. Thus to persist
In doing wrong extenuates not wrong,
But makes it much more heavy. Hector's opinion
Is this, in way of truth. Yet, ne'er the less,
My spritely brethren, I propend to you
In resolution to keep Helen still;
For 'tis a cause that hath no mean dependence
Upon our joint and several dignities.
TROILUS. Why, there you touch'd the life of our design.
Were it not glory that we more affected
Than the performance of our heaving spleens,
I would not wish a drop of Troyan blood
Spent more in her defence. But, worthy Hector,
She is a theme of honour and renown,
A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds,
Whose present courage may beat down our foes,
And fame in time to come canonize 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.
HECTOR. I am yours,
You valiant offspring of great Priamus.
I have a roisting challenge sent amongst
The dull and factious nobles of the Greeks
Will strike amazement to their drowsy spirits.
I was advertis'd their great general slept,
Whilst emulation in the army crept.
This, I presume, will wake him. Exeunt
ACT II. SCENE 3.
The Grecian camp. Before the tent of ACHILLES
Enter THERSITES, solus
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! If Troy be
not taken till these two undermine it, the walls will stand till
they fall of themselves. O thou great thunder-darter of Olympus,
forget that thou art Jove, the king of gods, and, Mercury, lose
all the serpentine craft of thy 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 without
drawing their massy irons and cutting the web. After this, the
vengeance on the whole camp! or, rather, the Neapolitan
bone-ache! for that, methinks, is the curse depending on those
that war for a placket. I have said my prayers; and devil Envy
say 'Amen.' What ho! my Lord Achilles!
Enter PATROCLUS
PATROCLUS. Who's there? Thersites! Good Thersites, come in and
rail.
THERSITES. If I could 'a rememb'red 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
shrouded any but lazars. Amen. Where's Achilles?
PATROCLUS. What, art thou devout? Wast thou in prayer?
THERSITES. Ay, the heavens hear me!
PATROCLUS. Amen.
Enter ACHILLES
ACHILLES. Who's there?
PATROCLUS. Thersites, my lord.
ACHILLES. Where, where? O, where? Art thou come? Why, my cheese, my
digestion, why hast thou not served thyself in to my table so
many meals? Come, what's Agamemnon?
THERSITES. Thy commander, Achilles. Then tell me, Patroclus, what's
Achilles?
PATROCLUS. Thy lord, Thersites. Then tell me, I pray thee, what's
Thersites?
THERSITES. Thy knower, Patroclus. Then tell me, Patroclus, what art
thou?
PATROCLUS. Thou must tell that knowest.
ACHILLES. O, tell, tell,
THERSITES. I'll decline the whole question. Agamemnon commands
Achilles; Achilles is my lord; I am Patroclus' knower; and
Patroclus is a fool.
PATROCLUS. You rascal!
THERSITES. Peace, fool! I have not done.
ACHILLES. He is a privileg'd man. Proceed, Thersites.
THERSITES. Agamemnon is a fool; Achilles is a fool; Thersites is a
fool; and, as aforesaid, Patroclus is a fool.
ACHILLES. Derive this; come.
THERSITES. 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 this Patroclus is a fool positive.
PATROCLUS. Why am I a fool?
THERSITES. Make that demand of the Creator. It suffices me thou
art. Look you, who comes here?
ACHILLES. Come, Patroclus, I'll speak with nobody. Come in with me,
Thersites. Exit
THERSITES. Here is such patchery, such juggling, and such knavery.
All the argument is a whore and a cuckold-a good quarrel to draw
emulous factions and bleed to death upon. Now the dry serpigo on
the subject, and war and lechery confound all! Exit
Enter AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, NESTOR, DIOMEDES,
AJAX, and CALCHAS
AGAMEMNON. Where is Achilles?
PATROCLUS. Within his tent; but ill-dispos'd, my lord.
AGAMEMNON. Let it be known to him that we are here.
He shent our messengers; and we lay by
Our appertainings, 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.
PATROCLUS. I shall say so to him. Exit
ULYSSES. We saw him at the opening of his tent.
He is not sick.
AJAX. Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart. You may call it
melancholy, if you will favour the man; but, by my head, 'tis
pride. But why, why? Let him show us a cause. A word, my lord.
[Takes AGAMEMNON aside]
NESTOR. What moves Ajax thus to bay at him?
ULYSSES. Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him.
NESTOR.Who, Thersites?
ULYSSES. He.
NESTOR. Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost his argument
ULYSSES. No; you see he is his argument that has his argument-
Achilles.
NESTOR. All the better; their fraction is more our wish than their
faction. But it was a strong composure a fool could disunite!
ULYSSES. The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie.
Re-enter PATROCLUS
Here comes Patroclus.
NESTOR. No Achilles with him.
ULYSSES. The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy; his legs
are legs for necessity, not for flexure.
PATROCLUS. Achilles bids me say he is much sorry
If any thing more than your sport and pleasure
Did move your greatness and this noble state
To call upon him; he hopes it is no other
But for your health and your digestion sake,
An after-dinner's breath.
AGAMEMNON. Hear you, Patroclus.
We are too well acquainted with these answers;
But his evasion, wing'd thus swift with scorn,
Cannot outfly our apprehensions.
Much attribute he hath, and much the reason
Why we ascribe it to him. Yet all his virtues,
Not virtuously on his own part beheld,
Do in our eyes begin to lose their gloss;
Yea, like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish,
Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell him
We come to speak with him; and you shall not sin
If you do say we think him over-proud
And under-honest, in self-assumption greater
Than in the note of judgment; and worthier than himself
Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on,
Disguise the holy strength of their command,
And underwrite in an observing kind
His humorous predominance; yea, watch
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 ad
That if he overhold his price so much
We'll none of him, but let him, like an engine
Not portable, lie under this report:
Bring action hither; this cannot go to war.
A stirring dwarf we do allowance give
Before a sleeping giant. Tell him so.
PATROCLUS. I shall, and bring his answer presently. Exit
AGAMEMNON. 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?
AGAMEMNON. No more than what he thinks he is.
AJAX. Is he so much? Do you not think he thinks himself a better
man than I am?
AGAMEMNON. No question.
AJAX. Will you subscribe his thought and say he is?
AGAMEMNON. No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as valiant, as wise,
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.
AGAMEMNON. Your mind is the clearer, Ajax, and your virtues the
fairer. He that is proud eats up himself. Pride is his own glass,
his own trumpet, his own chronicle; and whatever praises itself
but in the deed devours the deed in the praise.
Re-enter ULYSSES
AJAX. I do hate a proud man as I do hate the engend'ring of toads.
NESTOR. [Aside] And yet he loves himself: is't not strange?
ULYSSES. Achilles will not to the field to-morrow.
AGAMEMNON. What's his excuse?
ULYSSES. 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.
AGAMEMNON. Why will he not, upon our fair request,
Untent his person and share the air with us?
ULYSSES. Things small as nothing, for request's sake only,
He makes important; possess'd 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 swol'n 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?
He is so plaguy proud that the death tokens of it
Cry 'No recovery.'
AGAMEMNON. 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.
ULYSSES. O Agamemnon, let it not be so!
We'll consecrate the steps that Ajax makes
When they go from Achilles. Shall the proud lord
That bastes his arrogance with his own seam
And never suffers matter of the world
Enter his thoughts, save such as doth 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
Shall 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.'
NESTOR. [Aside] O, this is well! He rubs the vein of him.
DIOMEDES. [Aside] And how his silence drinks up this applause!
AJAX. If I go to him, with my armed fist I'll pash him o'er the
face.
AGAMEMNON. O, no, you shall not go.
AJAX. An 'a be proud with me I'll pheeze his pride.
Let me go to him.
ULYSSES. Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.
AJAX. A paltry, insolent fellow!
NESTOR. [Aside] How he describes himself!
AJAX. Can he not be sociable?
ULYSSES. [Aside] The raven chides blackness.
AJAX. I'll let his humours blood.
AGAMEMNON. [Aside] He will be the physician that should be the
patient.
AJAX. An all men were a my mind-
ULYSSES. [Aside] Wit would be out of fashion.
AJAX. 'A should not bear it so, 'a should eat's words first.
Shall pride carry it?
NESTOR. [Aside] An 'twould, you'd carry half.
ULYSSES. [Aside] 'A would have ten shares.
AJAX. I will knead him, I'll make him supple.
NESTOR. [Aside] He's not yet through warm. Force him with praises;
pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry.
ULYSSES. [To AGAMEMNON] My lord, you feed too much on this dislike.
NESTOR. Our noble general, do not do so.
DIOMEDES. You must prepare to fight without Achilles.
ULYSSES. Why 'tis this naming of him does him harm.
Here is a man-but 'tis before his face;
I will be silent.
NESTOR. Wherefore should you so?
He is not emulous, as Achilles is.
ULYSSES. Know the whole world, he is as valiant.
AJAX. A whoreson dog, that shall palter with us thus!
Would he were a Troyan!
NESTOR. What a vice were it in Ajax now-
ULYSSES. If he were proud.
DIOMEDES. Or covetous of praise.
ULYSSES. Ay, or surly borne.
DIOMEDES. Or strange, or self-affected.
ULYSSES. Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet composure
Praise him that gat 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 thine arms to fight-
Let Mars divide eternity in twain
And give him half; and, for thy vigour,
Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield
To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom,
Which, like a bourn, a pale, a shore, confines
Thy spacious and dilated parts. Here's Nestor,
Instructed by the antiquary times-
He must, he is, he cannot but be wise;
But pardon, father Nestor, were your days
As green as Ajax' and your brain so temper'd,
You should not have the eminence of him,
But be as Ajax.
AJAX. Shall I call you father?
NESTOR. Ay, my good son.
DIOMEDES. Be rul'd by him, Lord Ajax.
ULYSSES. 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.
AGAMEMNON. Go we to council. Let Achilles sleep.
Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw deep.
Exeunt
ACT III. SCENE 1.
Troy. PRIAM'S palace
Music sounds within. Enter PANDARUS and a SERVANT
PANDARUS. Friend, you-pray you, a word. Do you not follow the young
Lord Paris?
SERVANT. Ay, sir, when he goes before me.
PANDARUS. You depend upon him, I mean?
SERVANT. Sir, I do depend upon the lord.
PANDARUS. You depend upon a notable gentleman; I must needs praise
him.
SERVANT. The lord be praised!
PANDARUS. You know me, do you not?
SERVANT. Faith, sir, superficially.
PANDARUS. Friend, know me better: I am the Lord Pandarus.
SERVANT. I hope I shall know your honour better.
PANDARUS. I do desire it.
SERVANT. You are in the state of grace.
PANDARUS. Grace! Not so, friend; honour and lordship are my titles.
What music is this?
SERVANT. I do but partly know, sir; it is music in parts.
PANDARUS. Know you the musicians?
SERVANT. Wholly, sir.
PANDARUS. Who play they to?
SERVANT. To the hearers, sir.
PANDARUS. At whose pleasure, friend?
SERVANT. At mine, sir, and theirs that love music.
PANDARUS. Command, I mean, friend.
SERVANT. Who shall I command, sir?
PANDARUS. Friend, we understand not one another: I am to courtly,
and thou art too cunning. At whose request do these men play?
SERVANT. That's to't, indeed, sir. Marry, sir, at the request of
Paris my lord, who is there in person; with him the mortal Venus,
the heart-blood of beauty, love's invisible soul-
PANDARUS. Who, my cousin, Cressida?
SERVANT. No, sir, Helen. Could not you find out that by her
attributes?
PANDARUS. 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
seethes.
SERVANT. Sodden business! There's a stew'd phrase indeed!
Enter PARIS and HELEN, attended
PANDARUS. 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.
PANDARUS. You speak your fair pleasure, sweet queen. Fair prince,
here is good broken music.
PARIS. 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.
HELEN. He is full of harmony.
PANDARUS. Truly, lady, no.
HELEN. O, sir-
PANDARUS. Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude.
PARIS. Well said, my lord. Well, you say so in fits.
PANDARUS. 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-
PANDARUS. 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-
PANDARUS. 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!
PANDARUS. Sweet queen, sweet queen; that's a sweet queen, i' faith.
HELEN. And to make a sweet lady sad is a sour offence.
PANDARUS. Nay, that shall not serve your turn; that shall it not,
in truth, la. Nay, I care not for such words; no, no. -And, my
lord, he desires you that, if the King call for him at supper,
you will make his excuse.
HELEN. My Lord Pandarus!
PANDARUS. What says my sweet queen, my very very sweet queen?
PARIS. What exploit's in hand? Where sups he to-night?
HELEN. Nay, but, my lord-
PANDARUS. What says my sweet queen?-My cousin will fall out with
you.
HELEN. You must not know where he sups.
PARIS. I'll lay my life, with my disposer Cressida.
PANDARUS. No, no, no such matter; you are wide. Come, your disposer
is sick.
PARIS. Well, I'll make's excuse.
PANDARUS. Ay, good my lord. Why should you say Cressida?
No, your poor disposer's sick.
PARIS. I spy.
PANDARUS. You spy! What do you spy?-Come, give me an instrument.
Now, sweet queen.
HELEN. Why, this is kindly done.
PANDARUS. 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.
PANDARUS. He! No, she'll none of him; they two are twain.
HELEN. Falling in, after falling out, may make them three.
PANDARUS. Come, come. I'll hear no more of this; I'll sing you a
song now.
HELEN. Ay, ay, prithee now. By my troth, sweet lord, thou hast a
fine forehead.
PANDARUS. Ay, you may, you may.
HELEN. Let thy song be love. This love will undo us all. O Cupid,
Cupid, Cupid!
PANDARUS. Love! Ay, that it shall, i' faith.
PARIS. Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but love.
PANDARUS. In good troth, it begins so. [Sings]
Love, love, nothing but love, still love, still more!
For, oh, love's bow
Shoots buck and doe;
The shaft confounds
Not that it wounds,
But tickles still the sore.
These lovers cry, O ho, they die!
Yet that which seems the wound to kill
Doth turn O ho! to ha! ha! he!
So dying love lives still.
O ho! a while, but ha! ha! ha!
O ho! groans out for ha! ha! ha!-hey ho!
HELEN. In love, i' faith, to the very tip of the nose.
PARIS. 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.
PANDARUS. 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 today?
PARIS. 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.
PANDARUS. Not I, honey-sweet queen. I long to hear how they spend
to-day. You'll remember your brother's excuse?
PARIS. To a hair.
PANDARUS. Farewell, sweet queen.
HELEN. Commend me to your niece.
PANDARUS. I will, sweet queen. Exit. Sound a retreat
PARIS. They're come from the field. Let us to Priam's hall
To greet the warriors. Sweet Helen, I must woo you
To help unarm our Hector. His stubborn buckles,
With these your white enchanting fingers touch'd,
Shall more obey than to the edge of steel
Or force of Greekish sinews; you shall do more
Than all the island kings-disarm great Hector.
HELEN. 'Twill make us proud to be his servant, Paris;
Yea, what he shall receive of us in duty
Gives us more palm in beauty than we have,
Yea, overshines ourself.
PARIS. Sweet, above thought I love thee. Exeunt
ACT III. SCENE 2.
Troy. PANDARUS' orchard
Enter PANDARUS and TROILUS' BOY, meeting
PANDARUS. How now! Where's thy master? At my cousin Cressida's?
BOY. No, sir; he stays for you to conduct him thither.
Enter TROILUS
PANDARUS. O, here he comes. How now, how now!
TROILUS. Sirrah, walk off. Exit Boy
PANDARUS. Have you seen my cousin?
TROILUS. No, Pandarus. I stalk about her door
Like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks
Staying for waftage. O, be thou my Charon,
And give me swift transportance to these fields
Where I may wallow in the lily beds
Propos'd for the deserver! O gentle Pandar,
From Cupid's shoulder pluck his painted wings,
And fly with me to Cressid!
PANDARUS. Walk here i' th' orchard, I'll bring her straight.
Exit
TROILUS. I am giddy; expectation whirls me round.
Th' imaginary relish is so sweet
That it enchants my sense; what will it be
When that the wat'ry palate tastes indeed
Love's thrice-repured nectar? Death, I fear me;
Swooning destruction; or some joy too fine,
Too subtle-potent, 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
PANDARUS. 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
TROILUS. 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 majesty.
Re-enter PANDARUS With CRESSIDA
PANDARUS. 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
tame, must you? Come your ways, come your ways; an you draw
backward, we'll put you i' th' fills.-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 daylight! An 'twere
dark, you'd close sooner. So, so; rub on, and kiss the mistress
How now, a kiss in fee-farm! Build there, carpenter; the air is
sweet. Nay, you shall fight your hearts out ere I part you. The
falcon as the tercel, for all the ducks i' th' river. Go to, go
to.
TROILUS. You have bereft me of all words, lady.
PANDARUS. Words pay no debts, give her deeds; but she'll bereave
you o' th' 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
CRESSIDA. Will you walk in, my lord?
TROILUS. O Cressid, how often have I wish'd me thus!
CRESSIDA. Wish'd, my lord! The gods grant-O my lord!
TROILUS. What should they grant? What makes this pretty abruption?
What too curious dreg espies my sweet lady in the fountain of our
love?
CRESSIDA. More dregs than water, if my fears have eyes.
TROILUS. Fears make devils of cherubims; they never see truly.
CRESSIDA. Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds safer footing
than blind reason stumbling without fear. To fear the worst oft
cures the worse.
TROILUS. O, let my lady apprehend no fear! In all Cupid's pageant
there is presented no monster.
CRESSIDA. Nor nothing monstrous neither?
TROILUS. Nothing, but our undertakings when we vow to weep seas,
live in fire, cat rocks, tame tigers; 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.
CRESSIDA. 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?
TROILUS. Are there such? Such are not we. Praise us as we are
tasted, allow us as we prove; our head shall go bare till merit
crown it. No perfection in reversion shall have a praise in
present. We will not name desert before his birth; and, being
born, his addition shall be 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.
CRESSIDA. Will you walk in, my lord?
Re-enter PANDARUS
PANDARUS. What, blushing still? Have you not done talking yet?
CRESSIDA. Well, uncle, what folly I commit, I dedicate to you.
PANDARUS. 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.
TROILUS. You know now your hostages: your uncle's word and my firm
faith.
PANDARUS. Nay, I'll give my word for her too: our kindred, though
they be long ere they are wooed, they are constant being won;
they are burs, I can tell you; they'll stick where they are
thrown.
CRESSIDA. Boldness comes to me now and brings me heart.
Prince Troilus, I have lov'd you night and day
For many weary months.
TROILUS. Why was my Cressid then so hard to win?
CRESSIDA. 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 till now not so much
But I might master it. In faith, I lie;
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.
TROILUS. And shall, albeit sweet music issues thence.
PANDARUS. Pretty, i' faith.
CRESSIDA. 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.
TROILUS. Your leave, sweet Cressid!
PANDARUS. Leave! An you take leave till to-morrow morning-
CRESSIDA. Pray you, content you.
TROILUS. What offends you, lady?
CRESSIDA. Sir, mine own company.
TROILUS. You cannot shun yourself.
CRESSIDA. 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 know not what I speak.
TROILUS. Well know they what they speak that speak so wisely.
CRESSIDA. Perchance, my lord, I show more craft than love;
And fell so roundly to a large confession
To angle for your thoughts; but you are wise-
Or else you love not; for to be wise and love
Exceeds man's might; that dwells with gods above.
TROILUS. 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,
Outliving beauty's 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
Might be affronted with the match and weight
Of such a winnowed purity in love.
How were I then uplifted! but, alas,
I am as true as truth's simplicity,
And simpler than the infancy of truth.
CRESSIDA. In that I'll war with you.
TROILUS. O virtuous fight,
When right with right wars who shall be most right!
True swains in love shall in the world to come
Approve their truth by Troilus, when their rhymes,
Full of protest, of oath, and big compare,
Want similes, truth tir'd with iteration-
As true as steel, as plantage to the moon,
As sun to day, as turtle to her mate,
As iron to adamant, as earth to th' centre-
Yet, after all comparisons of truth,
As truth's authentic author to be cited,
'As true as Troilus' shall crown up the verse
And sanctify the numbers.
CRESSIDA. Prophet may you be!
If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth,
When time is old and hath forgot itself,
When waterdrops have worn the stones of Troy,
And blind oblivion swallow'd cities 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 th' have said 'As false
As air, as water, wind, or sandy earth,
As fox to lamb, or wolf to heifer's calf,
Pard to the hind, or stepdame to her son'-
Yea, let them say, to stick the heart of falsehood,
'As false as Cressid.'
PANDARUS. Go to, a bargain made; seal it, seal it; I'll be the
witness. Here I hold your hand; here my cousin's. If ever you
prove false one to another, since I have taken such pains to
bring you together, let all pitiful goers- between be call'd to
the world's end after my name-call them all Pandars; let all
constant men be Troiluses, all false women Cressids, and all
brokers between Pandars. Say 'Amen.'
TROILUS. Amen.
CRESSIDA. Amen.
PANDARUS. Amen. Whereupon I will show you a chamber
and a bed; which bed, because it shall not speak of your
pretty encounters, press it to death. Away!
And Cupid grant all tongue-tied maidens here,
Bed, chamber, pander, to provide this gear! Exeunt
ACT III. SCENE 3.
The Greek camp
Flourish. Enter AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, DIOMEDES,
NESTOR, AJAX, MENELAUS, and CALCHAS
CALCHAS. Now, Princes, for the service I have done,
Th' advantage of the time prompts me aloud
To call for recompense. Appear it to your mind
That, through the sight I bear in things to come,
I have abandon'd Troy, left my possession,
Incurr'd a traitor's name, expos'd myself
From certain and possess'd conveniences
To doubtful fortunes, sequest'ring 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 regist'red in promise,
Which you say live to come in my behalf.
AGAMEMNON. What wouldst thou of us, Troyan? Make demand.
CALCHAS. You have a Troyan 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 denied; but this Antenor,
I know, is such a wrest in their affairs
That their negotiations all must slack
Wanting his manage; and they will almost
Give us a prince of blood, a son of Priam,
In change of him. Let him be sent, great Princes,
And he shall buy my daughter; and her presence
Shall quite strike off all service I have done
In most accepted pain.
AGAMEMNON. Let Diomedes bear him,
And bring us Cressid hither. Calchas shall have
What he requests of us. Good Diomed,
Furnish you fairly for this interchange;
Withal, bring word if Hector will to-morrow
Be answer'd in his challenge. Ajax is ready.
DIOMEDES. This shall I undertake; and 'tis a burden
Which I am proud to bear.
Exeunt DIOMEDES and CALCHAS
ACHILLES and PATROCLUS stand in their tent
ULYSSES. Achilles stands i' th' entrance of his tent.
Please it our general 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 derision med'cinable
To use between your strangeness and his pride,
Which his own will shall have desire to drink.
It may do good. Pride hath no other glass
To show itself but pride; for supple knees
Feed arrogance and are the proud man's fees.
AGAMEMNON. 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.
ACHILLES. What comes the general to speak with me?
You know my mind. I'll fight no more 'gainst Troy.
AGAMEMNON. What says Achilles? Would he aught with us?
NESTOR. Would you, my lord, aught with the general?
ACHILLES. No.
NESTOR. Nothing, my lord.
AGAMEMNON. The better.
Exeunt AGAMEMNON and NESTOR
ACHILLES. Good day, good day.
MENELAUS. How do you? How do you? Exit
ACHILLES. What, does the cuckold scorn me?
AJAX. How now, Patroclus?
ACHILLES. Good morrow, Ajax.
AJAX. Ha?
ACHILLES. Good morrow.
AJAX. Ay, and good next day too. Exit
ACHILLES. What mean these fellows? Know they not Achilles?
PATROCLUS. 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.
ACHILLES. What, am I poor of late?
'Tis certain, greatness, once fall'n out with fortune,
Must fall out with men too. What the declin'd is,
He shall as soon read in the eyes of others
As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies,
Show not their mealy wings but to the summer;
And not a man for being simply man
Hath any honour, but honour for those honours
That are without him, as place, riches, and favour,
Prizes of accident, as oft as merit;
Which when they fall, as being slippery standers,
The love that lean'd on them as slippery too,
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 not worth in me such rich beholding
As they have often given. Here is Ulysses.
I'll interrupt his reading.
How now, Ulysses!
ULYSSES. Now, great Thetis' son!
ACHILLES. What are you reading?
ULYSSES. A strange fellow here
Writes me that man-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.
ACHILLES. This is not strange, Ulysses.
The beauty that is borne here in the face
The bearer knows not, but commends itself
To others' eyes; nor doth the eye itself-
That most pure spirit of sense-behold itself,
Not going from itself; but eye to eye opposed
Salutes each other with each other's form;
For speculation turns not to itself
Till it hath travell'd, and is mirror'd there
Where it may see itself. This is not strange at all.
ULYSSES. I do not strain at the position-
It is familiar-but at the author's drift;
Who, in his circumstance, expressly proves
That no man is the lord of anything,
Though in and of him there be much consisting,
Till he communicate his parts to others;
Nor doth he of himself know them for aught
Till he behold them formed in th' applause
Where th' are extended; who, like an arch, reverb'rate
The voice again; or, like a gate of steel
Fronting the sun, receives and renders back
His figure and his heat. I was much rapt in this;
And apprehended here immediately
Th' unknown Ajax. Heavens, what a man is there!
A very horse that has he knows not what!
Nature, what things there are
Most abject in regard and dear in use!
What things again most dear in the esteem
And poor in worth! Now shall we see to-morrow-
An act that very chance doth throw upon him-
Ajax renown'd. O heavens, what some men do,
While some men leave to do!
How some men creep in skittish Fortune's-hall,
Whiles others play the idiots in her eyes!
How one man eats into another's pride,
While pride is fasting 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.
ACHILLES. 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?
ULYSSES. Time 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 mock'ry. Take the instant way;
For honour travels in a strait so narrow -
Where one but goes abreast. Keep then the path,
For emulation hath a thousand sons
That one by one pursue; if you give way,
Or hedge aside from the direct forthright,
Like to an ent'red tide they all rush by
And leave you hindmost;
Or, like a gallant horse fall'n in first rank,
Lie there for pavement to the abject rear,
O'er-run and trampled on. Then what they do in present,
Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours;
For Time is like a fashionable host,
That slightly shakes his parting guest by th' hand;
And with his arms out-stretch'd, as he would fly,
Grasps in the corner. The welcome ever smiles,
And farewell goes out sighing. O, let not virtue seek
Remuneration for the thing it was;
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,
And give to dust that is a little gilt
More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.
The present eye praises the present object.
Then marvel not, thou great and complete man,
That all the Greeks begin to worship Ajax,
Since things in motion sooner catch the eye
Than what stirs not. The cry went once on thee,
And still it might, and yet it may again,
If thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive
And case thy reputation in thy tent,
Whose glorious deeds but in these fields of late
Made emulous missions 'mongst the gods themselves,
And drave great Mars to faction.
ACHILLES. Of this my privacy
I have strong reasons.
ULYSSES. But 'gainst your privacy
The reasons are more potent and heroical.
'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love
With one of Priam's daughters.
ACHILLES. Ha! known!
ULYSSES. Is that a wonder?
The providence that's in a watchful state
Knows almost every grain of Plutus' gold;
Finds bottom in th' uncomprehensive deeps;
Keeps place with thought, and almost, like the gods,
Do thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles.
There is a mystery-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 island 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
PATROCLUS. 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;
They think my little stomach to the war
And your great love to me restrains you thus.
Sweet, rouse yourself; and the weak wanton Cupid
Shall from your neck unloose his amorous fold,
And, like a dew-drop from the lion's mane,
Be shook to airy air.
ACHILLES. Shall Ajax fight with Hector?
PATROCLUS. Ay, and perhaps receive much honour by him.
ACHILLES. I see my reputation is at stake;
My fame is shrewdly gor'd.
PATROCLUS. O, then, beware:
Those wounds heal ill that men do give themselves;
Omission to do what is necessary
Seals a commission to a blank of danger;
And danger, like an ague, subtly taints
Even then when they sit idly in the sun.
ACHILLES. Go call Thersites hither, sweet Patroclus.
I'll send the fool to Ajax, and desire him
T' invite the Troyan 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.
Enter THERSITES
A labour sav'd!
THERSITES. A wonder!
ACHILLES. What?
THERSITES. Ajax goes up and down the field asking for himself.
ACHILLES. How so?
THERSITES. He must fight singly to-morrow with Hector, and is so
prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling that he raves in
saying nothing.
ACHILLES. How can that be?
THERSITES. Why, 'a stalks up and down like a peacock-a stride and a
stand; ruminaies like an hostess that hath no arithmetic but her
brain to set down her reckoning, bites his lip with 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 show without knocking. The man's
undone for ever; for if Hector break not his neck i' th' combat,
he'll break't himself in vainglory. 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 leather jerkin.
ACHILLES. Thou must be my ambassador to him, Thersites.
THERSITES. Who, I? Why, he'll answer nobody; he professes not
answering. Speaking is for beggars: he wears his tongue in's
arms. I will put on his presence. Let Patroclus make his demands
to me, you shall see the pageant of Ajax.
ACHILLES. 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, et cetera, Agamemnon. Do
this.
PATROCLUS. Jove bless great Ajax!
THERSITES. Hum!
PATROCLUS. I come from the worthy Achilles-
THERSITES. Ha!
PATROCLUS. Who most humbly desires you to invite Hector to his
tent-
THERSITES. Hum!
PATROCLUS. And to procure safe conduct from Agamemnon.
THERSITES. Agamemnon!
PATROCLUS. Ay, my lord.
THERSITES. Ha!
PATROCLUS. What you say to't?
THERSITES. God buy you, with all my heart.
PATROCLUS. Your answer, sir.
THERSITES. If to-morrow be a fair day, by eleven of the clock it
will go one way or other. Howsoever, he shall pay for me ere he
has me.
PATROCLUS. Your answer, sir.
THERSITES. Fare ye well, with all my heart.
ACHILLES. Why, but he is not in this tune, is he?
THERSITES. No, but he's out a tune thus. What music will be in him
when Hector has knock'd out his brains I know not; but, I am sure,
none; unless the fiddler Apollo get his sinews to make catlings
on.
ACHILLES. Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight.
THERSITES. Let me carry another to his horse; for that's the more
capable creature.
ACHILLES. My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirr'd;
And I myself see not the bottom of it.
Exeunt ACHILLES and PATROCLUS
THERSITES. Would the fountain of your mind were clear again, that I
might water an ass at it. I had rather be a tick in a sheep than
such a valiant ignorance. Exit
ACT IV. SCENE 1.
Troy. A street
Enter, at one side, AENEAS, and servant with a
torch; at another, PARIS, DEIPHOBUS, ANTENOR,
DIOMEDES the Grecian, and others, with torches
PARIS. See, ho! Who is that there?
DEIPHOBUS. It is the Lord Aeneas.
AENEAS. Is the Prince there in person?
Had I so good occasion to lie long
As you, Prince Paris, nothing but heavenly business
Should rob my bed-mate of my company.
DIOMEDES. That's my mind too. Good morrow, Lord Aeneas.
PARIS. A valiant Greek, Aeneas -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.
AENEAS. Health to you, valiant sir,
During all question of the gentle truce;
But when I meet you arm'd, as black defiance
As heart can think or courage execute.
DIOMEDES. 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.
AENEAS. And thou shalt hunt a lion, that will fly
With his face backward. In humane gentleness,
Welcome to Troy! now, by Anchises' life,
Welcome indeed! By Venus' hand I swear
No man alive can love in such a sort
The thing he means to kill, more excellently.
DIOMEDES. We sympathise. Jove let Aeneas 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!
AENEAS. We know each other well.
DIOMEDES.We do; and long to know each other worse.
PARIS. This is the most despiteful'st gentle greeting
The noblest hateful love, that e'er I heard of.
What business, lord, so early?
AENEAS. I was sent for to the King; but why, I know not.
PARIS. His purpose meets you: 'twas to bring this Greek
To Calchas' house, and there to render him,
For the enfreed Antenor, the fair Cressid.
Let's have your company; or, if you please,
Haste there before us. I constantly believe-
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.
AENEAS. That I assure you:
Troilus had rather Troy were borne to Greece
Than Cressid borne from Troy.
PARIS. There is no help;
The bitter disposition of the time
Will have it so. On, lord; we'll follow you.
AENEAS. Good morrow, all. Exit with servant
PARIS. And tell me, noble Diomed-faith, tell me true,
Even in the soul of sound good-fellowship-
Who in your thoughts deserves fair Helen best,
Myself or Menelaus?
DIOMEDES. Both alike:
He merits well to have her that doth seek her,
Not making any scruple of her soilure,
With such a hell of pain and world of charge;
And you as well to keep her that defend her,
Not palating the taste of her dishonour,
With such a costly loss of wealth and friends.
He like a puling cuckold would drink up
The lees and dregs of a flat tamed piece;
You, like a lecher, out of whorish loins
Are pleas'd to breed out your inheritors.
Both merits pois'd, each weighs nor less nor more;
But he as he, the heavier for a whore.
PARIS. You are too bitter to your country-woman.
DIOMEDES. 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 Troyan hath been slain; since she could speak,
She hath not given so many good words breath
As for her Greeks and Troyans suff'red death.
PARIS. Fair Diomed, you do as chapmen do,
Dispraise the thing that you desire to buy;
But we in silence hold this virtue well:
We'll not commend what we intend to sell.
Here lies our way. Exeunt
ACT IV. SCENE 2.
Troy. The court of PANDARUS' house
Enter TROILUS and CRESSIDA
TROILUS. Dear, trouble not yourself; the morn is cold.
CRESSIDA. Then, sweet my lord, I'll call mine uncle down;
He shall unbolt the gates.
TROILUS. Trouble him not;
To bed, to bed! Sleep kill those pretty eyes,
And give as soft attachment to thy senses
As infants' empty of all thought!
CRESSIDA. Good morrow, then.
TROILUS. I prithee now, to bed.
CRESSIDA. Are you aweary of me?
TROILUS. O Cressida! but that the busy day,
Wak'd by the lark, hath rous'd the ribald crows,
And dreaming night will hide our joys no longer,
I would not from thee.
CRESSIDA. Night hath been too brief.
TROILUS. Beshrew the witch! with venomous wights she stays
As tediously as hell, but flies the grasps of love
With wings more momentary-swift than thought.
You will catch cold, and curse me.
CRESSIDA. Prithee tarry.
You men will never tarry.
O foolish Cressid! I might have still held off,
And then you would have tarried. Hark! there's one up.
PANDARUS. [Within] What's all the doors open here?
TROILUS. It is your uncle.
Enter PANDARUS
CRESSIDA. A pestilence on him! Now will he be mocking.
I shall have such a life!
PANDARUS. How now, how now! How go maidenheads?
Here, you maid! Where's my cousin Cressid?
CRESSIDA. Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle.
You bring me to do, and then you flout me too.
PANDARUS. To do what? to do what? Let her say what.
What have I brought you to do?
CRESSIDA. Come, come, beshrew your heart! You'll ne'er be good,
Nor suffer others.
PANDARUS. Ha, ha! Alas, poor wretch! a poor capocchia! hast not
slept to-night? Would he not, a naughty man, let it sleep? A
bugbear take him!
CRESSIDA. Did not I tell you? Would he were knock'd i' th' head!
[One knocks]
Who's that at door? Good uncle, go and see.
My lord, come you again into my chamber.
You smile and mock me, as if I meant naughtily.
TROILUS. Ha! ha!
CRESSIDA. Come, you are deceiv'd, I think of no such thing.
[Knock]
How earnestly they knock! Pray you come in:
I would not for half Troy have you seen here.
Exeunt TROILUS and CRESSIDA
PANDARUS. Who's there? What's the matter? Will you beat down the
door? How now? What's the matter?
Enter AENEAS
AENEAS. Good morrow, lord, good morrow.
PANDARUS. Who's there? My lord Aeneas? By my troth,
I knew you not. What news with you so early?
AENEAS. Is not Prince Troilus here?
PANDARUS. Here! What should he do here?
AENEAS. Come, he is here, my lord; do not deny him.
It doth import him much to speak with me.
PANDARUS. Is he here, say you? It's more than I know, I'll be
sworn. For my own part, I came in late. What should he do here?
AENEAS. Who!-nay, then. Come, come, you'll do him wrong ere you are
ware; you'll be so true to him to be false to him. Do not you
know of him, but yet go fetch him hither; go.
Re-enter TROILUS
TROILUS. How now! What's the matter?
AENEAS. My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you,
My matter is so rash. There is at hand
Paris your brother, and Deiphobus,
The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor
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.
TROILUS. Is it so concluded?
AENEAS. By Priam, and the general state of Troy.
They are at hand and ready to effect it.
TROILUS. How my achievements mock me!
I will go meet them; and, my lord Aeneas,
We met by chance; you did not find me here.
AENEAS. Good, good, my lord, the secrets of neighbour Pandar
Have not more gift in taciturnity.
Exeunt TROILUS and AENEAS
PANDARUS. 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.
Re-enter CRESSIDA
CRESSIDA. How now! What's the matter? Who was here?
PANDARUS. Ah, ah!
CRESSIDA. Why sigh you so profoundly? Where's my lord? Gone? Tell
me, sweet uncle, what's the matter?
PANDARUS. Would I were as deep under the earth as I am above!
CRESSIDA. O the gods! What's the matter?
PANDARUS. Pray thee, get thee in. Would thou hadst ne'er been born!
I knew thou wouldst be his death! O, poor gentleman! A plague
upon Antenor!
CRESSIDA. Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees I beseech you,
what's the matter?
PANDARUS. 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.
CRESSIDA. O you immortal gods! I will not go.
PANDARUS. Thou must.
CRESSIDA. 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 falsehood,
If ever she leave Troilus! Time, force, and death,
Do to this body what extremes you can,
But the strong base and building of my love
Is as the very centre of the earth,
Drawing all things to it. I'll go in and weep-
PANDARUS. Do, do.
CRESSIDA. 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
ACT IV.SCENE 3.
Troy. A street before PANDARUS' house
Enter PARIS, TROILUS, AENEAS, DEIPHOBUS, ANTENOR,
and DIOMEDES
PARIS. It is great morning; and the hour prefix'd
For 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.
TROILUS. Walk into 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 off'ring to it his own heart. Exit
PARIS. I know what 'tis to love,
And would, as I shall pity, I could help!
Please you walk in, my lords. Exeunt
ACT IV. SCENE 4.
Troy. PANDARUS' house
Enter PANDARUS and CRESSIDA
PANDARUS. Be moderate, be moderate.
CRESSIDA. Why tell you me of moderation?
The grief is fine, full, perfect, that I taste,
And violenteth in a sense as strong
As that which causeth it. How can I moderate it?
If I could temporize with my affections
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
PANDARUS. Here, here, here he comes. Ah, sweet ducks!
CRESSIDA. O Troilus! Troilus! [Embracing him]
PANDARUS. What a pair of spectacles is here! Let me embrace too. 'O
heart,' as the goodly saying is,
O heart, 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 was never 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!
TROILUS. Cressid, I love thee in so strain'd a purity
That the bless'd gods, as angry with my fancy,
More bright in zeal than the devotion which
Cold lips blow to their deities, take thee from me.
CRESSIDA. Have the gods envy?
PANDARUS. Ay, ay, ay; 'tis too plain a case.
CRESSIDA. And is it true that I must go from Troy?
TROILUS. A hateful truth.
CRESSIDA. What, and from Troilus too?
TROILUS. From Troy and Troilus.
CRESSIDA. Is't possible?
TROILUS. 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 farewells 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.
AENEAS. [Within] My lord, is the lady ready?
TROILUS. 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.
PANDARUS. Where are my tears? Rain, to lay this wind, or my heart
will be blown up by th' root? Exit
CRESSIDA. I must then to the Grecians?
TROILUS. No remedy.
CRESSIDA. A woeful Cressid 'mongst the merry Greeks!
When shall we see again?
TROILUS. Hear me, my love. Be thou but true of heart-
CRESSIDA. I true! how now! What wicked deem is this?
TROILUS. Nay, we must use expostulation kindly,
For it is parting from us.
I speak not 'Be thou true' as fearing thee,
For I will throw my glove to 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.
CRESSIDA. O, you shall be expos'd, my lord, to dangers
As infinite as imminent! But I'll be true.
TROILUS. And I'll grow friend with danger. Wear this sleeve.
CRESSIDA. And you this glove. When shall I see you?
TROILUS. I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels
To give thee nightly visitation.
But yet be true.
CRESSIDA. O heavens! 'Be true' again!
TROILUS. Hear why I speak it, love.
The Grecian youths are full of quality;
They're loving, well compos'd with gifts of nature,
And flowing o'er with arts and exercise.
How novelties may move, and parts with person,
Alas, a kind of godly jealousy,
Which I beseech you call a virtuous sin,
Makes me afeard.
CRESSIDA. O heavens! you love me not.
TROILUS. Die I a villain, then!
In this I do not call your faith in question
So mainly as my merit. I cannot sing,
Nor heel the high lavolt, 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.
CRESSIDA. Do you think I will?
TROILUS. 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.
AENEAS. [Within] Nay, good my lord!
TROILUS. Come, kiss; and let us part.
PARIS. [Within] Brother Troilus!
TROILUS. Good brother, come you hither;
And bring Aeneas and the Grecian with you.
CRESSIDA. My lord, will you be true?
TROILUS. Who, I? Alas, it is my vice, my fault!
Whiles others fish with craft for great opinion,
I with great truth catch mere simplicity;
Whilst some with cunning gild their copper crowns,
With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare.
Enter AENEAS, PARIS, ANTENOR, DEIPHOBUS, and DIOMEDES
Fear not my truth: the moral of my wit
Is 'plain and true'; there's all the reach of it.
Welcome, Sir Diomed! Here is the lady
Which for Antenor we deliver you;
At the port, lord, I'll give her to thy hand,
And by the way possess 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.
DIOMEDES. 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.
TROILUS. Grecian, thou dost not use me courteously
To shame the zeal of my petition to the
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.
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.
DIOMEDES. O, be not mov'd, Prince Troilus.
Let me be privileg'd by my place and message
To be a speaker free: when I am hence
I'll answer to my 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.'
TROILUS. 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, CRESSIDA, and DIOMEDES
[Sound trumpet]
PARIS. Hark! Hector's trumpet.
AENEAS. 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.
DEIPHOBUS. Let us make ready straight.
AENEAS. 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
ACT IV. SCENE 5.
The Grecian camp. Lists set out
Enter AJAX, armed; AGAMEMNON, ACHILLES, PATROCLUS,
MENELAUS, ULYSSES, NESTOR, and others
AGAMEMNON. 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 bias cheek
Out-swell the colic of puff Aquilon'd.
Come, stretch thy chest, and let thy eyes spout blood:
Thou blowest for Hector. [Trumpet sounds]
ULYSSES. No trumpet answers.
ACHILLES. 'Tis but early days.
Enter DIOMEDES, with CRESSIDA
AGAMEMNON. Is not yond Diomed, with Calchas' daughter?
ULYSSES. 'Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait:
He rises on the toe. That spirit of his
In aspiration lifts him from the earth.
AGAMEMNON. Is this the lady Cressid?
DIOMEDES. Even she.
AGAMEMNON. Most dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet lady.
NESTOR. Our general doth salute you with a kiss.
ULYSSES. Yet is the kindness but particular;
'Twere better she were kiss'd in general.
NESTOR. And very courtly counsel: I'll begin.
So much for Nestor.
ACHILLES. I'll take that winter from your lips, fair lady.
Achilles bids you welcome.
MENELAUS. I had good argument for kissing once.
PATROCLUS. But that's no argument for kissing now;
For thus popp'd Paris in his hardiment,
And parted thus you and your argument.
ULYSSES. O deadly gall, and theme of all our scorns!
For which we lose our heads to gild his horns.
PATROCLUS. The first was Menelaus' kiss; this, mine-
[Kisses her again]
Patroclus kisses you.
MENELAUS. O, this is trim!
PATROCLUS. Paris and I kiss evermore for him.
MENELAUS. I'll have my kiss, sir. Lady, by your leave.
CRESSIDA. In kissing, do you render or receive?
PATROCLUS. Both take and give.
CRESSIDA. I'll make my match to live,
The kiss you take is better than you give;
Therefore no kiss.
MENELAUS. I'll give you boot; I'll give you three for one.
CRESSIDA. You are an odd man; give even or give none.
MENELAUS. An odd man, lady? Every man is odd.
CRESSIDA. No, Paris is not; for you know 'tis true
That you are odd, and he is even with you.
MENELAUS. You fillip me o' th' head.
CRESSIDA. No, I'll be sworn.
ULYSSES. It were no match, your nail against his horn.
May I, sweet lady, beg a kiss of you?
CRESSIDA. You may.
ULYSSES. I do desire it.
CRESSIDA. Why, beg then.
ULYSSES. Why then, for Venus' sake give me a kiss
When Helen is a maid again, and his.
CRESSIDA. I am your debtor; claim it when 'tis due.
ULYSSES. Never's my day, and then a kiss of you.
DIOMEDES. Lady, a word. I'll bring you to your father.
Exit with CRESSIDA
NESTOR. A woman of quick sense.
ULYSSES. 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 motive of her body.
O these encounters so glib of tongue
That give a coasting welcome ere it comes,
And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts
To every ticklish reader! Set them down
For sluttish spoils of opportunity,
And daughters of the game. [Trumpet within]
ALL. The Troyans' trumpet.
Enter HECTOR, armed; AENEAS, TROILUS, PARIS, HELENUS,
and other Trojans, with attendants
AGAMEMNON. Yonder comes the troop.
AENEAS. 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.
AGAMEMNON. Which way would Hector have it?
AENEAS. He cares not; he'll obey conditions.
ACHILLES. 'Tis done like Hector; but securely done,
A little proudly, and great deal misprizing
The knight oppos'd.
AENEAS. If not Achilles, sir,
What is your name?
ACHILLES. If not Achilles, nothing.
AENEAS. Therefore Achilles. But whate'er, know this:
In the extremity of great and little
Valour 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 Troyan and half Greek.
ACHILLES. A maiden battle then? O, I perceive you!
Re-enter DIOMEDES
AGAMEMNON. Here is Sir Diomed. Go, gentle knight,
Stand by our Ajax. As you and Lord ]Eneas
Consent upon the order of their fight,
So be it; either to the uttermost,
Or else a breath. The combatants being kin
Half stints their strife before their strokes begin.
[AJAX and HECTOR enter the lists]
ULYSSES. They are oppos'd already.
AGAMEMNON. What Troyan is that same that looks so heavy?
ULYSSES. 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 shows,
Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty,
Nor dignifies an impair thought with breath;
Manly as Hector, but more dangerous;
For Hector in his blaze of wrath 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 Aeneas, one that knows the youth
Even to his inches, and, with private soul,
Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me.
[Alarum. HECTOR and AJAX fight]
AGAMEMNON. They are in action.
NESTOR. Now, Ajax, hold thine own!
TROILUS. Hector, thou sleep'st;
Awake thee.
AGAMEMNON. His blows are well dispos'd. There, Ajax!
[Trumpets cease]
DIOMEDES. You must no more.
AENEAS. Princes, enough, so please you.
AJAX. I am not warm yet; let us fight again.
DIOMEDES. As Hector pleases.
HECTOR. 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 Troyan so
That thou could'st say 'This hand is Grecian all,
And this is Troyan; 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'dst from thy mother,
My sacred aunt, should by my mortal sword
Be drained! 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.
HECTOR. Not Neoptolemus so mirable,
On whose bright crest Fame with her loud'st Oyes
Cries 'This is he' could promise to himself
A thought of added honour torn from Hector.
AENEAS. There is expectance here from both the sides
What further you will do.
HECTOR. We'll answer it:
The issue is embracement. Ajax, farewell.
AJAX. If I might in entreaties find success,
As seld I have the chance, I would desire
My famous cousin to our Grecian tents.
DIOMEDES. 'Tis Agamemnon's wish; and great Achilles
Doth long to see unarm'd the valiant Hector.
HECTOR. Aeneas, call my brother Troilus to me,
And signify this loving interview
To the expecters of our Troyan part;
Desire them home. Give me thy hand, my cousin;
I will go eat with thee, and see your knights.
AGAMEMNON and the rest of the Greeks come forward
AJAX. Great Agamemnon comes to meet us here.
HECTOR. 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.
AGAMEMNON.Worthy all 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 fo