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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 sides, like a leather jerkin. [Thersites.
Achil. Thou must be my embassador to him, Ther. Who, I? why, he'll answer nobody; he professes not answering; speaking is for beggars; he wears his tongue in his arms. I will put on his presence; let Patroclus make demands to me, you shall see the pageant of Ajax.
Achil. To him, Patroclus: Tell him,-I humbly desire the valiant Ajax, to invite the most valorous Hector to come unarmed to my tent; and to procure safe conduct for his person, of the maguanimous, and most illustrious, six-or-seven-timeshonoured captain-general of the Grecian army, Agamemnon. Do this.
Patr. Jove bless great Ajax.
Patr. I come from the worthy Achilles,Ther. Ha!
7 her. 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 catlings on. [straight. 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.
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. [Eneas. 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 gent 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.
Ene. 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.What business, lord, so early? [know not. 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,
Ene. That I assure you; Troilus had rather Troy were borne to Greece, Than Cressid borne from Troy.
There is no help;
The bitter disposition of the time
Par. And tell me, noble Diomed; 'faith, tell me
Even in the soul of sound good-fellowship,Who, in your thoughts, merits fair Helen best, Myself, or Menelaus?
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.
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 Æneas. As for her Greeks and Trojans suffer'd death,
Tro. Pr'ythee now, to bed.
Tro. 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.
Night hath been too brief. Tro. 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.
You men will never tarry.-
Pan. (Within.) What, are all the doors open here?
Cres. A pestilence on him! now will he be mocking: I shall have such a life,-.
Pan. How now, how now? how go maidenheads? -Here, you maid! where's my cousin Cressid? Cres. Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking
You bring me to do, and then you flout me too. Pan. To do what? to do what?-let her say what: what have I brought you to do?
Cres. Come, come; beshrew your heart! you'll ne'er be good, Nor suffer others.
Pan. 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! (Knocking.)
Cres. Did I not tell you?-'would he were knock'd o'the head!Who's that at door? good uncle, go and see.My lord, come you again into chamber: You smile, and mock me, as if I meant naughtily. Tro. Ha! ha!
Cres. Come, you are deceiv'd, I think of no such thing.(Knocking.) How earnestly they knock!-pray you, come in; I would not for half Troy have you seen here. [Exeunt Troilus and Cressida. Pan. (Going to the door.) Who's there? what's the matter? will you beat down the door? How now? what's the matter?
I'll be sworn:-For my own part, I came in late: What should be do here?
Ene. Who!-nay, then :
Come, come, you'll do him wrong ere you are 'ware:
Ene. Good morrow, lord, good morrow. Pan. Who's there? my lord Eneas? By my troth, I knew you not: what news with you so early? Ene. Is not prince Troilus here? Pan. Here! what should he do here? Ene. Come, he is here, my lord, do not deny It doth import him much, to speak with me. Pan. Is he here, say you? 'tis more than I know,
Cres. How now? What is the matter? Who was here? Pan. Ah, ah!
[lord gone? Cres. Why sigh you so profoundly? where's my Tell me, sweet uncle, what's the matter?
Pan. 'Would I were as deep under the earth as I am above!
Cres. O the gods!-what's the matter?
Pan. Pr'ythee, get thee in; 'Would thou had'st ne'er been born! I knew, thou would'st be his death: O poor gentleman!—A plague upon Antenor! Cres. Good uncle, I beseech you on my knees, I beseech you, what's the matter?
Pan. Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone; thou art changed for Antenor: thou must to death; 'twill be his bane; he cannot bear it. thy father, and be gone from Troilus; 'twill be his
Cres. O you immortal gods!-I will not go.
Cres. I will not, uncle: I have forgot my father;
Drawing all things to it.-I'll go in, and weep ;-
Par. It is great morning; and the hour prefix'd Of her delivery to this valiant Greek Comes fast upon :-Good my brother Troilus, Tell you the lady what she is to do, And haste her to the purpose.
Tro. Walk in to her house; I'll bring her to the Grecian presently: And to his hand when I deliver her, Think it an altar; and thy brother Troilus A priest, there offering to it his own heart. [Exil.
Par. I know what 'tis to love;
SCENE IV. The same. A Room in Pandarus' House.
Enter PANDARUS and CRESSIDA.
If I could temporize with my affection,
Pan. Here, here, here he comes.-Ah, sweet ducks!
Cres. O Troilus! Troilus! (Embracing him.) Pan. What a pair of spectacles is here! Let me embrace too: O heart, as the goodly saying is,
-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.
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? 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;
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.
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.
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 pregBut 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?
But something may be done, that we will not:
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;
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. I charge thee, use her well, even for my charge; For, by the dreadful Pluto, if thou dost not, Though the great bulk Achilles be thy guard, I'll cut thy throat.
Dio. O, be not mov'd, prince Troilus : Let me be privileg'd by my place, and message, To be a speaker free; when I am hence, I'll answer to 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
Enter DIOMED with CRESSIDA. Agam. Is this the lady Cressid? Dio. Even she. [lady. Agam. Most dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet Nest. Our general doth salute you with a kiss. Ulyss. Yet is the kindness but particular; "Twere better, she were kiss'd in general.
Nest. And very courtly counsel: I'll begin. So much for Nestor,
Achil. I'll take that winter from your lips fair lady: Achilles bids you welcome.
Men. I had good argument for kissing once.
Ulyss. O deadly gall, and theme of all our scorns!
Men, O, this is trim ! Patr. Paris, and I, kiss evermore for him, Men, I'll have my kiss, sir:-Lady, by your leave. Cres. In kissing, do you render or receive? Patr. Both take and give, Cres, I'll make my match to live, The kiss you take is better than you give; Therefore no kiss.
Why, beg then. Ulyss. Why then, for Venus' sake, give me a kiss, When Helen is a inaid again, and his.
Cres. I am your debtor, claim it when 'tis due. Ulyss. Never's my day, and then a kiss of you. Dio. Lady, a word;-I'll bring you to your father. [Diomed leads out Cressida. Nest. A woman of quick sense. Ulyss Fy, fy 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 encounterers, 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 Trojan's trumpet. Agam.
Men. I'll give you boot, I'll give you three for one. Cres. You're an odd man; give even, or give none. Men. An odd man, lady? every man is odd. Cres. No, Paris is not; for, you know, 'tis true, That you are odd, and he is even with you. Men. You fillip me o' the head. Cres. No, I'll be sworn. [horn. Ulyss, It were no match, your nail against his May I, sweet lady, beg a kiss of you?
Cres. You may. Ulyss
I do desire it.
Yonder comes the troop. Enter HECTOR, armed; ENEAS, TROILUS, and other Trojans, with Attendants.
Ene. Hail, all the state of Greece! what shall be done
To him that victory commands? Or do you purpose
Agam. Which way would Hector have it? Ene. He cares not, he'll obey conditions. Achil. "Tis done like Hector; but securely done, A little proudly, and great deal misprizing The knight oppos'd. Ene.
If not Achilles, sir,
What is your name?
In the extremity of great and little,
Agam. Here is sir Diomed:-Go, gentle knight, Stand by our Ajax: as you and lord Æneas Consent upon the order of their fight, So be it; either to the uttermost, Or else a breath: the combatants being kin, Half stints their strife before their strokes begin. (Ajax and Hector, enter the lists.) Ulyss. They are oppos'd already. [heavy? Agam. What Trojan is that same, that looks so Ulyss. The youngest son of Priam, a true knight; Not yet mature, yet matchless; firm of word; Speaking in deeds, and deedless in his tongue; Not soon provok'd, nor, being provok'd, soon calm'd:
His heart and hand both open, and both free;
Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me.
[Ajax! Agam. His blows are well dispos'd:-there, Dio. You must no more. (Trumpets cease.) 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 gory emulation 'twixt us twain: Were thy commixtion Greek and Trojan so, That thou could'st say-This hand is Grecian all, And this is Trojan; the sinews of this leg All Greek, and this all Troy; my mother's blood Runs on the dexter cheek, and this sinister Bounds-in my father's; by Jove multipotent, Thou 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!
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.
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 is expectance here from both the sides,
What further you will do.
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
But for Achilles, my own searching eyes
Agam. Worthy of arms! as welcome as to one
And formless ruin of oblivion;
But in this extant moment, faith and troth,
Mock not, that I affect the untreaded oath;
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,
And I have seen thee, pause, and take thy breath,
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.
By this white beard, I'd fight with thee to-morrow. Well, welcome, welcome! I have seen the time
Ulyss. I wonder now how yonder city stands, When we have here her base and pillar by us.
Hect. I know your favour, lord Ulysses, well. Ah, sir, there's many a Greek and Trojan dead, Since first I saw yourself and Diomed In Ilion, on your Greekish embassy.
Ulyss. Sir, I foretold you then what would My prophecy is but half his journey yet; For yonder walls, that pertly front your town, Yon towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds, Must kiss their own feet.
Hect. I must not believe you : There they stand yet; and modestly I think, The fall of every Phrygian stone will cost A drop of Grecian blood: The end crowns all; And that old common arbitrator, time, Will one day end it.
Ulyss. So to him we leave it. Most gentle, and most valiant Hector, welcome: After the general, I beseech you next To feast with me, and see me at my tent.
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.
Is this Achilles?
Achil. I am Achilles.
Hect. Stand fair, I pray thee: let me look on thee. Achil. Behold thy fill.
Hect. Nay, I have done already. Achil. Thou art too brief; I will the second time, As I would buy thee, view thee limb by limb. Hect. O, like a book of sport thou'lt read me o'er; But there's more in me than thou understand'st. Why dost thou so oppress me with thine eye? Achil. Tell me, you heavens, in which part of his body Shall I destroy him? whether there, there, or there? That I may give the local wound a name; And make distinct the very breach, whereout Hector's great spirit flew Answer me, beavens ! Hect. It would discredit the bless'd gods, proud