wit was mouldy ere your grandsires had nails on | Bear the great sway of his affairs with reasons, their toes,-yoke you like draught oxen, and make Because your speech hath none, that tells him so? you plough up the wars. Tro. You are for dreams and slumbers, brother Achil. What, what? Ther. Yes, good sooth: To, Achilles! to, Ajax! to! Ther. 'Tis no matter; I shall speak as much as thou afterwards. Patr. No more words, Thersites; peace. Ther. I will hold my peace when Achilles' brach' bids me, shall I ? Achil. There's for you, Patroclus. Ther. I will see you hanged, 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. Patr. A good riddance. Achil. Marry, this, sir, is proclaimed through all That Hector, by the first hour of the sun, Ajax. O, meaning you :-I'll go learn more of it. [Exeunt. SCENE_II.-Troy. A room in Priam's palace. Enter Priam, Hector, Troilus, Paris, and Helenus. Pri. 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, travel, expense, priest, You fur your gloves with reason. Here are your reasons: You know, an enemy intends you harm; Should have hare hearts, would they but fat their With this cramm'd reason: reason and respect Hect. Brother, she is not worth what she doth cost Tro. Tro. I take to-day a wife, and my election Wounds, friends, and what else dear that is con-The wife I chose? there can be no evasion sum'd In hot digestion of this cormorant war, Shall be struck off:-Hector, what say you to't? As far as toucheth my particular, yet, There is no lady of more softer bowels, Tro. Fie, fie, my brother! Of common ounces? will you with counters sum reasons, You are so empty of them. (1) Bitch, hound. (3) Caution. Should not our father To blench from this, and to stand firm by honour: We do not throw in unrespective sieve," Because we now are full. It was thought meet, He brought a Grecian queen, whose youth and Wrinkles Apollo's, and makes pale the morning. If you'll avouch, 'twas wisdom Paris went (5) Basket. What noise? what shriek is this! (6) Priam's sister, Hesione. TROILUS AND CRESSIDA. Cry, Trojans, ery! practise your eyes with tears; Of divination in our sister work Some touches of remorse? or is your blood Why, brother Hector, Par. Else might the world convince3 of levity Paris, you speak Par. Sir, I propose not merely to myself What treason were it to the ransack'd queen, On terms of base compulsion? Can it be, (1) Corrupt, change to a worse state. Defence. (5) Commented. Well may we fight for her, whom, we know well, Hect. Paris, and Troilus, you have both said well: The reasons, you allege, do more conduce If Helen then be wife to Sparta's king,- Tro. Why, there you touch'd the life of our Were it not glory that we more affected I am yours, Ther. 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 railed at me: 'Sfoot, I' 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 thunderdarter of Olympus, forget that thou art Jove the king of gods; and, Mercury, lose all the serpen (7) Incline to, as a question of honour. tine craft of thy caduceus; if ye take not that little Ther. Here is such patchery, such juggling, and little less than little wit from them that they have! such knavery! all the argument is, a cuckold, and which short-armed ignorance itself knows is so a whore; A good quarrel, to draw emulous facabundant scarce, it will not in circumvention de- tions, and bleed to death upon. Now the dry serliver a fly from a spider, without drawing their pigo on the subject! and war, and lechery, conmassy irons, and cutting the web. After this, the found all! [Exit. Vengeance on the whole camp! or, rather, the boneache! for that, methinks, is the curse dependent on those that war for a placket. I have said my prayers; and devil, envy, say Amen.-What, ho! my lord Achilles! Enter Patroclus. Patr. Who's there? Thersites? Good Thersites, come in and rail. Ther. If I could have remembered a gilt counterfeit, thou wouldest not have slipped 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? Patr. What, art thou devout? wast thou in prayer? Ther. Ay; the heavens hear me ! Agam. Where is Achilles? Putr. Within his tent; but ill-dispos'd, my lord. 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. Nest. What moves Ajax thus to bay at him? Ulyss. He. Nest. Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost his argument. Ulyss. No, you see, he is his argument, that has his argument; Achilles. Nest. All the better; their fraction is more our wish, than their faction: But it was a strong composure, a fool could disunite. Ulyss. The amity, that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie. Here comes Patroclus. Re-enter Patroclus. Nest. No Achilles with him. Ulyss. The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy: his legs are legs for necessity, not for Ther. Thy knower, Patroclus; Then tell me, flexure. Patr. That mayest tell, that knowest. Ther. I'll decline the whole question. Agamem- Ther. Peace, fool; I have not done. Achil. He is a privileged man.-Proceed, Thersites. Patr. Achilles bids me say-he is much sorry, Ther. Agamemnon is a fool; Achilles is a fool; Thersites is a fool; and, as aforesaid, Patroclus is a fool. Achil. Derive this; come. Ther. 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 Patroclus is a fool positive. Patr. Why am I a fool ? Ther. Make that demand of the prover.-It ficeth me, thou art. Look you, who comes here? Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Nestor, Diomedes, and Ajax. Achil. Patroclus, I'll speak with Come in with me, Thersites. Here tend the savage strangeness" he puts on; Disguise the holy strength of their command, And underwrite12 in a deserving kind nobody-His humorous predominance; yea, watch [Exit. His rettish lunes, 13 his cbbs, his flows, as if Agam. In second voice we'll not be satisfied, We come to speak with him.-Ulysses, enter. [Exit Ulysses. O, no, you shall not go. Ajax. An he be proud with me, I'll pheeze his pride: Ajax. What is he more than another? Agam. No more than what he thinks he is. Ajax. Is he so much? Do you not think, he Let me go to him. thinks himself a better man than I am? Agam. No question. Ajax. Will you subscribe his thought, and sayhe is? Agam. 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. Agam. Your mind's 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 praiseth itself but in the deed, devours the deed in the praise. Ajax. I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendering of toads. Nest. And yet he loves himself: Is it not strange? [Aside. Re-enter Ulysses. Ulyss. Achilles will not to the field to-morrow. Agam. What's his excuse? Ulyss. 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. Agam. Why will he not, upon our fair request, Untent his person, and share the air with us? Ulyss. Things small as nothing, for request's sake only, He makes important: Possess'd he is with greatness; Let Ajax go to him. Agam. Ulyss. O Agamemnon, let it not be so! By going to Achilles : Ulyss. Not for the worth that hangs upon tour Nest. Himself! quarrel. Ajax. A paltry, insolent fellow, How he describes [Aside. Ajax. Can he not be sociable ?· The raven [Aside. Ulyss Chides blackness. Ajax. Ajax. An all men }, }, Were o'my mind,— [Aside. Wit would be out of fashion, [Aside. Ajax. He should not bear it so, He should eat swords first: Shall pride carry it? Ajax. I'll knead him, I will make him supple -Nest. He's not yet thorough warm: force him with praises: Pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry. [Aside. Ulyss. My lord, you feed too much on this dislike. [To Agamemnon. Nest. O noble general, do not do so. Dio. You must prepare to fight without Achilles, Ulyss. Why, 'tis this naming of him does him Bull-bearing Milo his addition' yield To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom, He must, he is, he cannot but be wise:- Shall I call you father? Nest. Ay, my good son. Be rul'd by him, lord Ajax. Ulyss. There is no tarrying here; the hart Achilles Keeps thicket. Please it our great general ACT III. SCENE I-Troy. A room in Priam's palace. Enter Pandarus and a Servant. Pan. Friend! you! pray you, a word: Do not you follow the young lord Paris? Serv. Ay, sir, when he goes before me. Pan. You do depend upon a noble gentleman; I must needs praise him. Serv. The lord be prais'd! Pan. You know me, do you not? Pan. Friend, know me better; I am the lord Pandarus. Serv. I hope, I shall know your honour better. Serv. You are in the state of grace. [Music within. Pan. Grace! not so, friend; honour and lordship are my titles:-What music is this? Serv. I do but partly know, sir; it is music in parts. Pan. Know you the musicians? Serv. Wholly, sir. Pan. Who play they to? Serv. To the hearers, sir. Pan. At whose pleasure, friend? Serv. At mine, sir, and theirs that love music. Serv. Who shall I command, sir? Pan. Friend, we understand not one another; I am too courtly, and thou art too cunning: At whose request do these men play? Serv. That's to't, indeed, sir: Marry, sir, at the request of Paris my lord, who is there in person; with him, the mortal Venus, the heart-blood of beauty, love's invisible soul, Pan. Who, my cousin, Cressida ? Serv. No, sir, Helen; Could you not find out that by her attributes? Pan. It should seem, fellow, that thou hast not seen the lady Cressida. I come to speak with (1) Titles. (2) Stream, rivulet. (3) Boils. Paris from the prince Troilus: I will make a complimental assault upon him, for my business seeths. Serv. Sodden business! there's a stewed phrase, indeed! Enter Paris and Helen, attended. Pan. Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair company! fair desires, in all fair measure, fairly guide them! especially to you, fair queen! fair thoughts be to your fair pillow! Helen. Dear lord, you are full of fair words. Pan. You speak your fair pleasure, sweet queen.Fair prince, here is good broken music. Par. You have broke it, cousin and, by my life, you shall make it whole again; you shall piece it out with a piece of your performance :-Nell, he is full of harmony. Pan. Truly, lady, no. Helen. O, sir, Pan. Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude. Par. Well said, my lord! well, you say so in fits.* Pan. I have business to my lord, dear queen :My lord, will you vouchsafe me a word? Helen. Nay, this shall not hedge us out: we'll hear you sing, certainly. Pan. Well, sweet queen, you are pleasant with me.-But (marry) thus, my lord,-my dear lord, and most esteemed friend, your brother Troilus Helen. My lord Pandarus; honey-sweet lord,himself most affectionately to you. Pan. Go to, sweet queen, go to;-commends Helen. You shall not bob us out of our melody; If you do, our melancholy upon your head! Pan. Sweet queen, sweet queen; that's a sweet queen, i'faith. Helen. And to make a sweet lady sad, is a sour offence. Pan. Nay, that shall not serve your turn; that shall it not, in truth, la. Nay, I care not for such words, no, no.-And, my lord, he desires you, that, if the king call for him at supper, you will make his excuse. Helen. My lord Pandarus, Pan. What says my sweet queen,-my very very sweet queen. Par. What exploit's in hand? where sups he to-night. Helen. Nay, but my lord, Pan. What says my sweet queen ?-My cousin will fall out with you. You must not know where he sups. Par. I'll lay my life, with my disposer Cressida. Pan. No, no, no such matter, you are wide; come, your disposer is sick. Par. Well, I'll make excuse. Pan. Ay, good my lord. Why should you sayCressida ? no, your poor disposer's sick. Par. I spy. Pan. You spy! what do you spy?—Come, give me an instrument.-Now, sweet queen. Helen. Why, this is kindly done. Pan. My neice is horribly in love with a thing you have, sweet queen. Helen. She shall have it, my lord, if it be not my lord Paris. Pan. He! no, she'l. none of him; they two are twain. Helen. Falling in, after falling out, may make them three. Pan. Come, come, I'll hear no more of this; I'll sing you a song now. (4) Parts of a song. (5) Wide of your mark. |