While some men leave to do! Achil. I do believe it: for they pass'd by me, As misers do by beggars: neither gave to me Good word, nor look: What, are my deeds forgot? Ulyss. Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great siz'd monster of ingratitudes: As fast as they are made, forgot as soon Or, like a gallant horse fallen in first rank, Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours: For time is like a fashionable host, That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand; seek Remuneration for the thing it was! For beauty, wit, High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, One touch of nature makes the whole world kin,— The present eye praises the present object: And drave great Mars to faction. Achil. Of this my privacy I have strong reasons. Ulyss. But 'gainst your privacy The reasons are more potent and heroical: 'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love With one of Priam's daughters. Achil. Ha! known? Ulyss. Is that a wonder? The providence that's in a watchful state, Does thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles. [exi [you Patr. To this effect, Achilles, have I mov'c Shall from your neck unloose his amorous fold, Achil. Shall Ajax fight with Hector? Patr. Ay; and, perhaps, receive much honour by him. Achil. I see, my reputation is at stake; My fame is shrewdly gor'd. Patr. O, then beware; These wounds heal ill, that men do give them selves: Omission to do what is necessary Achil. Go, call Thersites hither, sweet Patro clus: I'll send the fool to Ajax, and desire him To invite the Trojan lords after the combat, us here unarm'd: I have a woman's longing, To see An appetite that I am sick withal, Enter Thersites. Ther. A wonder! Achil. What? Ther. Ajax goes up and down the field, asking for himself. 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 a 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'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. Achil. Thou must be my ambassador to him, Thersites. 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 magnanimous, and most illustrious, six-or-seven-timeshonoured captain-general of the Grecian army, Agamemnon. Do this. Patr. Jove bless great Ajax. SCENE I. TROY. A STREET. Ther. Agamemnon? Patr. Ay, my lord. Patr. What say you to't? Ther. God be wi' you, with all my heart. Ther. If to-morrow be a fair day, by "eleven o'clock it will go one way or other; howsoever, he shall pay for me ere he has me Patr. Your answer, sir. Ther. Fare you well, with all my heart. Achil. Why, but he is not in this tune, is he? Ther. No, but he's out o'tune thus. What 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. Achil. Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight. Ther. Let me bear another to his horse; for that's the more capable creature. Achil. My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirr'd; and I myself see not the bottom of it. [exeunt Achilles and Patroclus. Ther. 'Would the fountain of your mind were clear again, that I might water an ass at it! I had rather be a tick in a sheep, than such a valiant ignorance. [exit. ACT IV. Enter, at one side, Eneas and Servant, with a Ene. Is the prince there in person ? Had I so good occasion to lie long, Welcome to Troy! now, by Auchises' life, As you, prince Paris, nothing but heavenly busi- With every joint a wound; and that to-morrow ness Should rob my bed-mate of my company. Dio. That's my mind too.-Good morrow, lord Æneas. Par. A valiant Greek, Æneas; take his hand : Witness the process of your speech, wherein You told-how Diomed, a whole week by days, Did haunt you in the field. 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. Ene. And thou shalt hunt a lion, that will fly With his face backward.—In humane gentleness, Par. His purpose meets you; 'twas to bring this Greek To Calchas' house; and there to render him, Dio. 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; Par. You are too bitter to your countrywoman. For every false drop in her bawdy veins A Trojan hath been slain: since she could speak, Par. 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. SCENE II. COURT BEFORE THE HOUSE OF PANDARUS. Enter Troilus and Cressida. Tro. Dear, trouble not yourself; the morn is cold. Cres. Then, sweet my lord, I'll call mine uncle down; He shall unbolt the gates. Tro. Trouble him not: To bed, to bed: sleep kill those pretty eyes, Cres. Good morrow, then. 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. Cres. 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. Cres. Pr'ythee, tarry ; You men will never tarry, O foolish Cressid!-I might have still held off, Who's that at the door? good uncle, go and sec.— Cres. Come, you are deceiv'd, I think of no [knocking, such thing.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? We must give up to Diomedes' hand Tro. Is it so concluded? ne. By Priam, and the general state of Troy: They are at hand, and ready to effect it. Tro. How my achievements mock me! I will go meet them: and, my lord Æneas, We met by chance; you did not find me here. Ene. Good, good, my lord; the secrets of nature Have not more gift in taciturnity. [exeunt Tro. & Ene. Pan. Is't possible? no sooner got, but lost? The devil take Antenor! The young prince will go mad. A plague upon Antenor! I would, they had broke's neck! Enter Cressida. SCENE IV. A ROOM IN PANDARUS' HOUSE. Cres. How now? What is the matter? Who My love admits no qualifying dross; was here? Pan. Ah, ah! Cres. Why sigh you so profoundly? Where's my lord gone? Tell me, sweet uncle, what's the matter? Pan. 'Would I were as deep under the earth as I am above! 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 thy father, and be gone from Troilus; 'twill be his death: 'twill be his bane; he cannot bear it. Cres. O you immortal gods!-I will not go. Pan. Thon must. Cres. 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, Drawing all things to it. I'll go in, and weep ;- Cres. 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. [ex eunt. Enter Paris, Troilus, Eneas, Deiphobus, Antenor, and Diomedes. SCENE III. BEFORE PANDA RUS' HOUSE. 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; No more my grief, in such a precious loss. Pan. Here, here, here he comes. -Ah, sweet ducks! Let Cres. O Troilus! Troilus! [embracing him. Pan. What a pair of spectacles is here! me embrace too: O heart,-as the gocdly saying is, O heart, O heavy heart, 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 Cold lips blow to their deities,-take thee from me. Cres. Have the gods envy? Pan. Ay, ay, ay, ay; 'tis too plain a case. Cres. What, and from Troilus too? Tro. And suddenly; where injury of chance Enc. [within.] My lord! is the lady ready? Genius so Crics, 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? While others fish with craft for great opinion, crowns, With truth and plainness I do wear mire bare. Cres. A woful Cressid 'mongst the merry Enter Eneas, Paris, Antenor, Deiphobus, and Greeks! When shall we see again? Tro. Hear me, my love :-Be thou but true of heart, 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; Cres. O, you shall be expos'd, my lord, to 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 you? 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: Diomedes. Welcome, sir Diomed! here is the lady, Dio. Fair lady Cressid, So please you, save the thanks this prince expects : Dio. O, be not mov'd, prince Troilus : They're loving, well compos'd, with gifts of I'll nothing do on charge: to her own worth nature flowing, And swelling o'er with arts and exercise; (Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin,) Cres. O heavens! you love me not. In this I do not call your faith in question, To which the Grecians are most prompt and pregnant: But I can tell, that in each grace of these Tro. No. But something may be done, that we will not: Ene. [within.] Nay, good, my lord!- And bring Æneas, and the Grecian, with you. Tro. Who, I? alas, it is my vice, my fault: She shall be priz'd; but that you say-be't so, Tro. Come, to the port - I'll tell thee, Diomed, [exeunt Troilus, Cressida, and Diomedes. Par. Hark! Hector's trumpet. [trumpet heard. Ene. How have we spent this morning! The prince must think me tardy and remiss, That swore to ride before him to the field. Par. 'Tis Troilus' fault: come, come, to field with him. Dei. Let us make ready straight. Ene. 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 chavilry. [exeunt. SCENE V. THE GRECIAN CAMP. LISTS SET OUT. Enter Ajax, armed; Agamemnon, Achilles, Patro. clus, Menelaus, Ulysses, Nestor, and others. Agam. Here art thou in appointment fresh and fair, Anticipating time with starting courage. Ajax. Thou, trumpet, there's my purse. |