The History of Troilus and Cressida

William Shakespeare

The History of Troilus and Cressida

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 coolingtoo,    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 sawher    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 talkyesterday, 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 hasthe    mends in her own hands.  TROILUS. Good Pandarus! How now, Pandarus!  PANDARUS. I have had my labour for my travail, ill thought onof    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 fairas    Helen. An she were not kin to me, she would be as fair aFriday    as Helen is on Sunday. But what care I? I care not an shewere 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 tostay    behind her father. Let her to the Greeks; and so I'll tellher    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. Soundalarum  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 haveno    legs.  ALEXANDER. This man, lady, hath robb'd many beasts of their    particular additions: he is as valiant as a lion, churlish asthe    bear, slow as the elephant-a man into whom nature hath socrowded    humours that his valour is crush'd into folly, his follysauced    with discretion. There is no man hath a virtue that he hathnot a    glimpse of, nor any man an attaint but he carries some stainof    it; he is melancholy without cause and merry against thehair; he    hath the joints of every thing; but everything so out ofjoint    that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no use, orpurblind    Argus, all eyes and no sight.  CRESSIDA. But how should this man, that makes me smile, makeHector      angry?  ALEXANDER. They say he yesterday cop'd Hector in the battle and    struck him down, the disdain and shame whereof hath eversince    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 atIlium?  CRESSIDA. This morning, uncle.  PANDARUS. What were you talking of when I came? Was Hectorarm'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 layabout    him today, I can tell them that. And there's Troilus will not    come far behind him; let them take heed of Troilus, I cantell    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 aman    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 notHector.  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 anothertale    when th' other's come to't. Hector shall not have his witthis    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, Imust    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 agood    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 thanParis.  CRESSIDA. Then she's a merry Greek indeed.  PANDARUS. Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him th' otherday    into the compass'd window-and you know he has not past threeor    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 threepound    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 cameand    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 smilingbecomes    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 Helenloves    Troilus-  CRESSIDA. Troilus will stand to the proof, if you'll prove itso.  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 tickledhis    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 hischin.  CRESSIDA. Alas, poor chin! Many a wart is richer.  PANDARUS. But there was such laughing! Queen Hecuba laugh'dthat    her eyes ran o'er.  CRESSIDA. With millstones.  PANDARUS. And Cassandra laugh'd.  CRESSIDA. But there was a more temperate fire under the pot ofher    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 yourchin,    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 myfather,    and all the rest are his sons.' 'Jupiter!' quoth she 'whichof    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 goingby.  PANDARUS. Well, cousin, I told you a thing yesterday; thinkon't.  CRESSIDA. So I do.  PANDARUS. I'll be sworn 'tis true; he will weep you, and 'twerea    man born in April.  CRESSIDA. And I'll spring up in his tears, an 'twere a nettle    against May. [Sound aretreat]  PANDARUS. Hark! they are coming from the field. Shall we standup    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 maysee    most bravely. I'll tell you them all by their names as theypass    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 ofthe    flowers of Troy, I can tell you. But mark Troilus; you shallsee    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 comesTroilus?    I'll show you Troilus anon. If he see me, you shall see himnod    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. Obrave    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? Lookyou    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 tohim,    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'snot    hurt. Why, this will do Helen's heart good now, ha! Would Icould    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. Imarvel    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 uponhim,    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 adaughter a    goddess, he should take his choice. O admirable man! Paris?Paris    is dirt to him; and, I warrant, Helen, to change, would givean    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 ofTroilus.    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 manthan    Troilus.  PANDARUS. Achilles? A drayman, a porter, a very camel!  CRESSIDA. Well, well.  PANDARUS. Well, well! Why, have you any discretion? Have youany    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 aman?  CRESSIDA. Ay, a minc'd man; and then to be bak'd with no datein    the pie, for then the man's date is out.  PANDARUS. You are such a woman! A man knows not at what wardyou    lie.  CRESSIDA. Upon my back, to defend my belly; upon my wit, todefend    my wiles; upon my secrecy, to defend mine honesty; my mask,to    defend my beauty; and you, to defend all these; and at allthese    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 havehit,    I can watch you for telling how I took the blow; unless itswell    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. ExitBoy    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.ExitPANDARUS    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 andsway,    [To NESTOR] And, thou most reverend, for thy stretch'd-outlife,    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