ACT IV. SCENE 1.]
Achil. What?

TROILUS AND CRESSIDA.

[for himself. Ther. Ajax goes up and down the field, asking Achil. How so?

Ther. He must fight singly to-morrow with Hector; and is so prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling, that he raves in saying nothing. Achil. How can that be?

Ther. Why, he stalks up and down like a peacock, a stride, and a stand: ruminates like an hostess, that hath no 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 shew without knocking. The man's undone for ever; for if Hector break not his neck i'the combat, he'll break it himself in vain-glory. He knows not me: I said, Good-morrow, Ajax; and he replies, Thanks, Agamemnon. What think you of this man, that takes me for the general? He is grown a very land-fish, languageless, a monster. A plague of opinion! a man may wear it on both [Thersites. sides, like a leather jerkin. Achil. Thou must be my embassador to him, Ther. Who, I? why, he'll answer nobody; he professes not answering; speaking is for beggars; I will put on his he wears his tongue in his arms. presence; let Patroclus make demands to me, you shall see the pageant of Ajax.

Achil. To him, Patroclus: Tell him,-I humbly desire the valiant Ajax, to invite the most valorous Hector to come unarmed to my tent; and to procure safe conduct for his person, of the magnanimous, and most illustrious, six-or-seven-timeshonoured captain-general of the Grecian army, Agamemnon. Do this.

Patr. Jove bless great Ajax.
Ther. Humph!

Patr. I come from the worthy Achilles,-
Ther. Ha!

Patr. Who most humbly desires you to invite
Hector to his tent ;-

Ther. Humph!

[memnon.

Patr. And to procure safe conduct from Aga-
Ther. Agamemnon?

Patr. Ay, my lord.
Ther. Ha!

Patr. What say you to't?

Ther. God be wi'you, with all my heart.
Patr. Your answer, sir.

Ther. If to-morrow be a fair day, by eleven o'clock it will go one way or other; howsoever, he shall pay for me ere he has me.

Patr. Your answer, sir.

7ier. Fare you well, with all my heart. Achil. Why, but he is not in this tune, is he? Ther. No, but he's out o'tune thus. What music will be in him when Hector has knocked out his brains, I know not: but, I am sure, none, unless the fiddler Apollo get his sinews to make cat[straight. lings on. Achil. Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him Ther. Let me bear another to his horse; for that's the more capable creature.

A chil. My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirr'd; And I myself see not the bottom of it.

[Exeunt Achilles and Patroclus. Ther. 'Would the fountain of your mind were clear again, that I might water an ass at it! I had rather be a tick in a sheep, than such a valiant ig[Exit.

norance.

-ACT IV.

SCENE I.-Troy. A Street.

Enter at one side, ÆNEAS, and Servant with a torch;
at the other, PARIS, DEIPHOBUS, ANTENOR,
DIOMEDES, and others, with torches.
Par. See, ho! who's that there?
Dei.

Ene. 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. [Æneas.
Dio. That's my mind too.-Good morrow, lord
Par. A valiant Greek, Æneas; take his hand:
Witness the process of your speech, wherein
You told-how Diomed, a whole week by days,
Did haunt you in the field.
Ene.
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.

Dio. The one and other Diomed embraces.
Our bloods are now in calm; and, so long, health:
But when contention and occasion meet,
By Jove, I'll play the hunter for thy life,
With all my force, pursuit, and policy.

ne. 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.
Dio. We sympathize:-Jove, let Æneas live,
If to my sword his fate be not the glory,
A thousand complete courses of the sun!
But, in mine emulous honour, let him die,
With every joint a wound; and that to-morrow!
Ene. We know each other well.

Dio. We do: and long to know each other worse.
Par. This is the most despiteful gentle greeting,
The noblest hateful love, that e'er I heard of.-
[know not.
What business, lord, so early?
Ene. I was sent for to the king; but why, I
Par. 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 do think,
(Or, rather, call my thought a certain knowledge,)
My brother Troilus lodges there to-night;
Rouse him, and give him note of our approach,
With the whole quality wherefore: I fear,
We shall be much unwelcome.
That I assure you;
Ene.
Troilus had rather Troy were borne to Greece,
Than Cressid borne from Troy.
There is no help;

Par.

The bitter disposition of the time
Will have it so. On, lord; we'll follow you.
Ene. Good morrow, all.

[Exit.

Par. And tell me, noble Diomed; 'faith, tell me
true,

Even in the soul of sound good-fellowship,-
Who, in your thoughts, merits fair Helen best,
Myself, or Menelaus?
Both alike:

Dio.

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.

Par. You are too bitter to your countrywoman.
Dio. She's bitter to her country: Hear me, Paris,-
For every false drop in her bawdy veins
A Grecian's life hath sunk; for every scruple
Of her contaminated carrion weight,

A Trojan hath been slain: since she could speak, She hath not given so many good words breath, "Tis the lord Eneas. As for her Greeks and Trojans suffer'd death.

S 34

Cres. Tear my bright hair, and scratch my praised Crack my clear voice with sobs, and break (Knocking.) With sounding Troilus. I will not go from Troy. [Exeunt.

Enter TROILUS.

Pan. Here, here, here he comes.-Ah, sweet ducks!

(Embracing him.) Pan. What a pair of spectacles is here! Let me embrace too: O heart, as the goodly saying is,

Cres. O Troilus! Troilus!

-o heart, o heavy heart,

Why sigh'st thou without breaking? Where he answers again,

Because thou canst not ease thy smart,

By friendship, nor by speaking.
There never was a truer rhyme. Let us cast away
nothing, for we may live to have need of such a
verse; we see it, we see it.-How now, lambs?

Tro. Cressid, I love thee in so strain'd a purity,
That the blest gods-as angry with my fancy,
More bright in zeal than the devotion which [me.
Cold lips blow to their deities,-take thee from
Cres. Have the gods envy?

Pan. Ay, ay, ay, ay; 'tis too plain a case.
Cres. And is it true, that I must go from Troy?
Tro. A hateful truth.
Cres.

What, and from Troilus too?
Tro. From Troy and Troilus.
Cres.

Is it possible?

Tro. And suddenly; where injury of chance
Puts back leave-taking, justles roughly by
All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips
Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents

Our lock'd embrasures, strangles our dear vows
Even in the birth of our own labouring breath:
We two, that with so many thousand sighs
Did buy each 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.

Ene. (Within.) My lord! is the lady ready?
Tro. Hark! you are call'd: Some say, the Genius so
Cries, Come! to him that instantly must die.-
Bid them have patience; she shall come anon.
Pan. Where are my tears? rain, to lay this wind,
or my heart will be blown up by the root! [Exit.
Cres. I must then to the Greeks?
Tro.

No remedy.
Cres. A woeful Cressid 'mongst the merry
Greeks!-

When shall we see again?

[heart,

Tro. Hear me, my love: Be thou but true of
Cres. I true! how now? what wicked deem is this?
Tro. Nay, we must use expostulation kindly,
For it is parting from us :

I speak not, be thou true, as fearing thee;
For I will throw my glove to 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.

Cres. O, you shall be expos'd, my lord, to dangers
As infinite as imminent! but, I'll be true.

Tro. And I'll grow friend with danger. Wear

this sleeve.

[you?
Cres. And you this glove. When shall I see
Tro. I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels,
To give thee nightly visitation.
But yet, be true.
Cres.

O heavens!-be true, again?

Tro. Hear why I speak it, love;

The Grecian youths are full of quality; [flowing,
They're loving, well compos'd, with gifts of nature
And swelling o'er with arts and exercise;
How novelty may move, and parts with person,
Alas, a kind of godly jealousy

(Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin,)
Makes me afeard.

Cres.

O heavens! you love me not.

Tro. Die I a villain then!

In this I do not call your faith in question,
So mainly as my merit: I cannot sing,
Nor heel the high lavolt, nor sweeten talk,
Nor play at subtle games; fair virtues all, [nant:
To which the Grecians are most prompt and preg-
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.
Cres. Do you think, I will?

Tro. No.

But something may be done, that we will not:
And sometimes we are devils to ourselves,
When we will tempt the frailty of our powers,
Presuming on their changeful potency.
Ene. (Within.) Nay, good my lord.-

Tro.

Come, kiss; and let us part.
Par. (Within.) Brother Troilus!
Tro.

Good brother, come you hither;
And bring Eneas, and the Grecian, with you.
Cres. My lord, will you be true?

Tro. Who I? alas, it is my vice, my fault:
While others fish with craft for great opinion,
I with great truth catch mere simplicity;
Whilst some with cunning gild their copper crowns,
With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare.
Fear not my truth; the moral of my wit
Is-plain, and true, there's all the reach of it.
Enter ENEAS, PARIS, ANTENor, Deiphobus,
and DIOMEDes.

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.

Dio.

Fair lady Cressid,
So please you, save the thanks this prince expects:
The lustre in your eye, heaven in your cheek,
Pleads your fair usage; and to Diomed
You shall be mistress, and command him wholly.

Tro. Grecian, thou dost not use me courteously,
To shame the zeal of my petition to thee,
In praising her: I tell thee, lord of Greece,
She is us far high-soaring o'er thy praises,
As thou unworthy to be call'd her servant.

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,
Dio.
O, be not mov'd, prince Troilus:
I'll cut thy throat.
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'll speak it in my spirit and honour,-no

SCENE 5.]
Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me.
(Alarum. Hector and Ajax fight.)
Agam. They are in action.

Nest. Now, Ajax, hold thine own!

Tro.

Hector, thou sleep'st;

[Ajax!
Awake thee!
Agam. His blows are well dispos'd:-there,
(Trumpets cease.)
Dio. You must no more.
Ene.
Princes, enough, so please you.
Ajax. I am not warm yet, let us fight again.
Dio. As Hector pleases.
Hect.
Why then, will I no more :-
Thou art, great lord, my father's sister's son,
A cousin-german to great Priam's seed;
The obligation of our blood forbids

A emulation 'twixt us twain:
gory

Were thy commixtion Greek and Trojan so,
That thou could'st say-This hand is Grecian all,
And this is Trojan; the sinews of this leg
All Greek, and this all Troy; my mother's blood
Runs on the dexter cheek, and this sinister
Bounds-in my father's; by Jove multipotent,
Thou should'st not bear from me a Greekish member
Wherein my sword had not impressure made
Of our rank feud: But the just gods gainsay,
That any drop thou borrow'st from thy mother,
My sacred aunt, should by my mortal sword
Be drain'd! Let me embrace thee, Ajax :
By him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms;
Hector would have them fall upon him thus:
Cousin, all honour to thee!

I thank thee, Hector :
Ajax.
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.

Hect. Not Neoptolemus so mirable

(On whose bright crest Fame with her loud'st O yes
Cries, This is he,) could promise to himself
A thought of added honour torn from Hector.
Ene. There
expectance here from both the
sides,

What further you will do.

We'll answer it;
Hect.
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.

Dio. 'Tis Agamemnon's wish: and great Achilles
Doth long to see unarm'd the valiant Hector.

Hect. Eneas, call my brother Troilus to me :
And signify this loving interview

To the expecters of our Trojan part;
Desire them home.-Give me thy hand, my cousin;
I will go eat with thee, and see your knights.

Ajax. Great Agamemnon comes to meet us here.
Hect. The worthiest of them tell me name by

name;

But for Achilles, my own searching eyes
Shall find him by his large and portly size.

Agam. Worthy of arms! as welcome as to one
That would be rid of such an enemy;

But that's no welcome: Understand more clear, What's past, and what's to come, is strew'd with husks

And formless ruin of oblivion;

But in this extant moment, faith and troth,
Strain'd purely from all hollow bias-drawing,
Bids thee, with most divine integrity,
From heart of very heart, great Hector, welcome.
Hect. I thank thee, most imperious Agamemnon.
Agam. My well-fam'd lord of Troy, no less to you.
(To Troilus.)
Men. Let me confirm my princely brother's
greeting:-
Yon brace of warlike brothers, welcome hither.
Hect. Whom must we answer?
Men.

The noble Menelaus.
Hect. O you, my lord? by Mars his gauntlet,
thanks!

Mock not, that I affect the untreaded oath;
Your quondam wife swears still by Venus' glove:
She's well, but bade me not commend her to you.
Men. Name her not now, sir; she's a deadly
theme.

Hect. O, pardon; I offend.

Nest. I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft,
Labouring for destiny, make cruel way
Through ranks of Greekish youth and I have seen
thee,

:

As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed,
Despising many forfeits and subduements,
When thou hast hung thy advanced sword i'the air,
Not letting it decline on the declin'd;
That I have said to some my standers-by,
Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life!

And I have seen thee, pause, and take thy breath,
When that a ring of Greeks have hemm'd thee in,
Like an Olympian wrestling: This have I seen;
But this thy countenance, still lock'd in steel,
I knew thy grandsire,
I never saw till now.
And once fought with him: he was a soldier good;
But, by great Mars, the captain of us all,
Never like thee: Let an old man embrace thee;
And, worthy warrior, welcome to our tents.
Ene. 'Tis the old Nestor.

Hect. Let me embrace thee, good old chronicle,
Thou hast so long walk'd hand in hand with time:~
Most reverend Nestor, I am glad to clasp thee.

Nest. I would, my arms could match thee in
contention,

As they contend with thee in courtesy.
Hect. I would they could.

Nest. Ha!

By this white beard, I'd fight with thee to-morrow.
Well, welcome, welcome! I have seen the time-

Ulyss. I wonder now how yonder city stands,
When we have here her base and pillar by us.

Hect. I know your favour, lord Ulysses, well.
Ah, sir, there's many a Greek and Trojan dead,
Since first I saw yourself and Diomed
In Ilion, on your Greekish embassy.

[ensue :
Ulyss. Sir, I foretold you then what would
My prophecy is but half his journey yet;
For yonder walls, that pertly front your town,
Yon towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds,
Must kiss their own feet.

I must not believe you :
Hect.
There they stand yet; and modestly I think,
The fall of every Phrygian stone will cost
A drop of Grecian blood: The end crowns all;
And that old common arbitrator, time,
Will one day end it.

So to him we leave it.
Ulyss.
Most gentle, and most valiant Hector, welcome:
After the general, I beseech you next
To feast with me, and see me at my tent.

Achil. I shall forestall thee, lord Ulysses, thou!-
Now, Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee;
I have with exact view perus'd thee, Hector,
And quoted joint by joint.

Hect.

Is this Achilles?

Achil. I am Achilles.
Hect. Stand fair, I pray thee: let me look on thee.
Achil. Behold thy fill.

Hect.
Nay, I have done already.
Achil. Thou art too brief; I will the second time,
As I would buy thee, view thee limb by limb.

Hect. O, like a book of sport thou'lt read me o'er;
But there's more in me than thou understand'st.
Why dost thou so oppress me with thine eye?

his body

Achil. Tell me, you heavens, in which part of
Shall I destroy him? whether there, there, or there?
That I may give the local wound a name;
And make distinct the very breach, whereout
Hector's great spirit flew: Answer me, heavens!
Hect. It would discredit the bless'd gods, proud

man,