The History of Troilus and Cressida

  AGAMEMNON. What would you fore our tent?  AENEAS. Is this great Agamemnon's tent, I pray you?  AGAMEMNON. Even this.  AENEAS. May one that is a herald and a prince    Do a fair message to his kingly eyes?  AGAMEMNON. With surety stronger than Achilles' an    Fore all the Greekish heads, which with one voice    Call Agamemnon head and general.  AENEAS. Fair leave and large security. How may    A stranger to those most imperial looks    Know them from eyes of other mortals?  AGAMEMNON. How?  AENEAS. Ay;    I ask, that I might waken reverence,    And bid the cheek be ready with a blush    Modest as Morning when she coldly eyes    The youthful Phoebus.    Which is that god in office, guiding men?    Which is the high and mighty Agamemnon?  AGAMEMNON. This Troyan scorns us, or the men of Troy    Are ceremonious courtiers.  AENEAS. Courtiers as free, as debonair, unarm'd,    As bending angels; that's their fame in peace.    But when they would seem soldiers, they have galls,    Good arms, strong joints, true swords; and, Jove's accord,    Nothing so full of heart. But peace, Aeneas,    Peace, Troyan; lay thy finger on thy lips.    The worthiness of praise distains his worth,    If that the prais'd himself bring the praise forth;    But what the repining enemy commends,    That breath fame blows; that praise, sole pure, transcends.  AGAMEMNON. Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself Aeneas?  AENEAS. Ay, Greek, that is my name.  AGAMEMNON. What's your affair, I pray you?  AENEAS. Sir, pardon; 'tis for Agamemnon's ears.  AGAMEMNON. He hears nought privately that comes from Troy.  AENEAS. Nor I from Troy come not to whisper with him;    I bring a trumpet to awake his ear,    To set his sense on the attentive bent,    And then to speak.  AGAMEMNON. Speak frankly as the wind;    It is not Agamemnon's sleeping hour.    That thou shalt know, Troyan, he is awake,    He tells thee so himself.  AENEAS. Trumpet, blow loud,    Send thy brass voice through all these lazy tents;    And every Greek of mettle, let him know    What Troy means fairly shall be spoke aloud.                                                      [Soundtrumpet]    We have, great Agamemnon, here in Troy    A prince called Hector-Priam is his father-    Who in this dull and long-continued truce    Is resty grown; he bade me take a trumpet    And to this purpose speak: Kings, princes, lords!    If there be one among the fair'st of Greece    That holds his honour higher than his ease,    That seeks his praise more than he fears his peril,    That knows his valour and knows not his fear,    That loves his mistress more than in confession    With truant vows to her own lips he loves,    And dare avow her beauty and her worth    In other arms than hers-to him this challenge.    Hector, in view of Troyans and of Greeks,    Shall make it good or do his best to do it:    He hath a lady wiser, fairer, truer,    Than ever Greek did couple in his arms;    And will to-morrow with his trumpet call    Mid-way between your tents and walls of Troy    To rouse a Grecian that is true in love.    If any come, Hector shall honour him;    If none, he'll say in Troy, when he retires,    The Grecian dames are sunburnt and not worth    The splinter of a lance. Even so much.  AGAMEMNON. This shall be told our lovers, Lord Aeneas.    If none of them have soul in such a kind,    We left them all at home. But we are soldiers;    And may that soldier a mere recreant prove    That means not, hath not, or is not in love.    If then one is, or hath, or means to be,    That one meets Hector; if none else, I am he.  NESTOR. Tell him of Nestor, one that was a man    When Hector's grandsire suck'd. He is old now;    But if there be not in our Grecian mould    One noble man that hath one spark of fire    To answer for his love, tell him from me    I'll hide my silver beard in a gold beaver,    And in my vantbrace put this wither'd brawn,    And, meeting him, will tell him that my lady    Was fairer than his grandame, and as chaste    As may be in the world. His youth in flood,    I'll prove this truth with my three drops of blood.  AENEAS. Now heavens forfend such scarcity of youth!  ULYSSES. Amen.  AGAMEMNON. Fair Lord Aeneas, let me touch your hand;    To our pavilion shall I lead you, first.    Achilles shall have word of this intent;    So shall each lord of Greece, from tent to tent.    Yourself shall feast with us before you go,    And find the welcome of a noble foe.Exeunt all but ULYSSES and NESTOR  ULYSSES. Nestor!  NESTOR. What says Ulysses?  ULYSSES. I have a young conception in my brain;    Be you my time to bring it to some shape.  NESTOR. What is't?  ULYSSES. This 'tis:    Blunt wedges rive hard knots. The seeded pride    That hath to this maturity blown up    In rank Achilles must or now be cropp'd    Or, shedding, breed a nursery of like evil    To overbulk us all.  NESTOR. Well, and how?  ULYSSES. This challenge that the gallant Hector sends,    However it is spread in general name,    Relates in purpose only to Achilles.  NESTOR. True. The purpose is perspicuous even as substance    Whose grossness little characters sum up;    And, in the publication, make no strain    But that Achilles, were his brain as barren    As banks of Libya-though, Apollo knows,    'Tis dry enough-will with great speed of judgment,    Ay, with celerity, find Hector's purpose    Pointing on him.  ULYSSES. And wake him to the answer, think you?  NESTOR. Why, 'tis most meet. Who may you else oppose    That can from Hector bring those honours off,    If not Achilles? Though 't be a sportful combat,    Yet in this trial much opinion dwells;    For here the Troyans taste our dear'st repute    With their fin'st palate; and trust to me, Ulysses,    Our imputation shall be oddly pois'd    In this vile action; for the success,    Although particular, shall give a scantling    Of good or bad unto the general;    And in such indexes, although small pricks    To their subsequent volumes, there is seen    The baby figure of the giant mas    Of things to come at large. It is suppos'd    He that meets Hector issues from our choice;    And choice, being mutual act of all our souls,    Makes merit her election, and doth boil,    As 'twere from forth us all, a man distill'd    Out of our virtues; who miscarrying,    What heart receives from hence a conquering part,    To steel a strong opinion to themselves?    Which entertain'd, limbs are his instruments,    In no less working than are swords and bows    Directive by the limbs.  ULYSSES. Give pardon to my speech.    Therefore 'tis meet Achilles meet not Hector.    Let us, like merchants, show our foulest wares    And think perchance they'll sell; if not, the lustre    Of the better yet to show shall show the better,    By showing the worst first. Do not consent    That ever Hector and Achilles meet;    For both our honour and our shame in this    Are dogg'd with two strange followers.  NESTOR. I see them not with my old eyes. What are they?  ULYSSES. What glory our Achilles shares from Hector,    Were he not proud, we all should wear with him;    But he already is too insolent;    And it were better parch in Afric sun    Than in the pride and salt scorn of his eyes,    Should he scape Hector fair. If he were foil'd,    Why, then we do our main opinion crush    In taint of our best man. No, make a lott'ry;    And, by device, let blockish Ajax draw    The sort to fight with Hector. Among ourselves    Give him allowance for the better man;    For that will physic the great Myrmidon,    Who broils in loud applause, and make him fall    His crest, that prouder than blue Iris bends.    If the dull brainless Ajax come safe off,    We'll dress him up in voices; if he fail,    Yet go we under our opinion still    That we have better men. But, hit or miss,    Our project's life this shape of sense assumes-    Ajax employ'd plucks down Achilles' plumes.  NESTOR. Now, Ulysses, I begin to relish thy advice;    And I will give a taste thereof forthwith    To Agamemnon. Go we to him straight.    Two curs shall tame each other: pride alone    Must tarre the mastiffs on, as 'twere their bone.

Exeunt

ACT II. SCENE 1. The Grecian camp

Enter Ajax and THERSITES

  AJAX. Thersites!  THERSITES. Agamemnon-how if he had boils full, an over,generally?  AJAX. Thersites!  THERSITES. And those boils did run-say so. Did not the generalrun    then? Were not that a botchy core?  AJAX. Dog!  THERSITES. Then there would come some matter from him;    I see none now.  AJAX. Thou bitch-wolf's son, canst thou not hear? Feel, then.                                                        [Strikeshim]  THERSITES. The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrelbeef-witted    lord!  AJAX. Speak, then, thou whinid'st leaven, speak. I will beatthee    into handsomeness.  THERSITES. I shall sooner rail thee into wit and holiness; butI    think thy horse will sooner con an oration than thou learn a    prayer without book. Thou canst strike, canst thou? A redmurrain    o' thy jade's tricks!  AJAX. Toadstool, learn me the proclamation.  THERSITES. Dost thou think I have no sense, thou strikest methus?  AJAX. The proclamation!  THERSITES. Thou art proclaim'd, a fool, I think.  AJAX. Do not, porpentine, do not; my fingers itch.  THERSITES. I would thou didst itch from head to foot and I hadthe    scratching of thee; I would make thee the loathsomest scab in    Greece. When thou art forth in the incursions, thou strikestas    slow as another.  AJAX. I say, the proclamation.  THERSITES. Thou grumblest and railest every hour on Achilles;and    thou art as full of envy at his greatness as Cerberus is at    Proserpina's beauty-ay, that thou bark'st at him.  AJAX. Mistress Thersites!  THERSITES. Thou shouldst strike him.  AJAX. Cobloaf!  THERSITES. He would pun thee into shivers with his fist, as a    sailor breaks a biscuit.  AJAX. You whoreson cur! [Strikeshim]  THERSITES. Do, do.  AJAX. Thou stool for a witch!  THERSITES. Ay, do, do; thou sodden-witted lord! Thou hast nomore    brain than I have in mine elbows; an assinico may tutor thee.You    scurvy valiant ass! Thou art here but to thrash Troyans, andthou    art bought and sold among those of any wit like a barbarian    slave. If thou use to beat me, I will begin at thy heel andtell    what thou art by inches, thou thing of no bowels, thou!  AJAX. You dog!  THERSITES. You scurvy lord!  AJAX. You cur! [Strikeshim]  THERSITES. Mars his idiot! Do, rudeness; do, camel; do, do.

Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS

  ACHILLES. Why, how now, Ajax! Wherefore do you thus?    How now, Thersites! What's the matter, man?  THERSITES. You see him there, do you?  ACHILLES. Ay; what's the matter?  THERSITES. Nay, look upon him.  ACHILLES. So I do. What's the matter?  THERSITES. Nay, but regard him well.  ACHILLES. Well! why, so I do.  THERSITES. But yet you look not well upon him; for who someever    you take him to be, he is Ajax.  ACHILLES. I know that, fool.  THERSITES. Ay, but that fool knows not himself.  AJAX. Therefore I beat thee.  THERSITES. Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters! His    evasions have ears thus long. I have bobb'd his brain morethan    he has beat my bones. I will buy nine sparrows for a penny,and    his pia mater is not worth the ninth part of a sparrow. This    lord, Achilles, Ajax-who wears his wit in his belly and hisguts    in his head-I'll tell you what I say of him.  ACHILLES. What?  THERSITES. I say this Ajax- [AJAX offers to strikehim]  ACHILLES. Nay, good Ajax.  THERSITES. Has not so much wit-  ACHILLES. Nay, I must hold you.  THERSITES. As will stop the eye of Helen's needle, for whom he    comes to fight.  ACHILLES. Peace, fool.  THERSITES. I would have peace and quietness, but the fool willnot-    he there; that he; look you there.  AJAX. O thou damned cur! I shall-  ACHILLES. Will you set your wit to a fool's?  THERSITES. No, I warrant you, the fool's will shame it.  PATROCLUS. Good words, Thersites.  ACHILLES. What's the quarrel?  AJAX. I bade the vile owl go learn me the tenour of the    proclamation, and he rails upon me.  THERSITES. I serve thee not.  AJAX. Well, go to, go to.  THERSITES. I serve here voluntary.  ACHILLES. Your last service was suff'rance; 'twas notvoluntary. No    man is beaten voluntary. Ajax was here the voluntary, and youas    under an impress.  THERSITES. E'en so; a great deal of your wit too lies in your    sinews, or else there be liars. Hector shall have a greatcatch    an he knock out either of your brains: 'a were as good cracka    fusty nut with no kernel.  ACHILLES. What, with me too, Thersites?  THERSITES. There's Ulysses and old Nestor-whose wit was mouldyere    your grandsires had nails on their toes-yoke you like draught    oxen, and make you plough up the wars.  ACHILLES. What, what?  THERSITES. Yes, good sooth. To Achilles, to Ajax, to-  AJAX. I shall cut out your tongue.  THERSITES. 'Tis no matter; I shall speak as much as thou    afterwards.  PATROCLUS. No more words, Thersites; peace!  THERSITES. I will hold my peace when Achilles' brach bids me,shall    I?  ACHILLES. There's for you, Patroclus.  THERSITES. I will see you hang'd like clotpoles ere I come anymore    to your tents. I will keep where there is wit stirring, andleave    the faction of fools.Exit  PATROCLUS. A good riddance.  ACHILLES. Marry, this, sir, is proclaim'd through all our host,    That Hector, by the fifth hour of the sun,    Will with a trumpet 'twixt our tents and Troy,    To-morrow morning, call some knight to arms    That hath a stomach; and such a one that dare    Maintain I know not what; 'tis trash. Farewell.  AJAX. Farewell. Who shall answer him?  ACHILLES. I know not; 'tis put to lott'ry. Otherwise. He knewhis    man.  AJAX. O, meaning you! I will go learn more of it.

Exeunt

ACT II. SCENE 2. Troy. PRIAM'S palace

Enter PRIAM, HECTOR, TROILUS, PARIS, and HELENUS

  PRIAM. 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, travail, expense,    Wounds, friends, and what else dear that is consum'd    In hot digestion of this cormorant war-    Shall be struck off.' Hector, what say you to't?  HECTOR. Though no man lesser fears the Greeks than I,    As far as toucheth my particular,    Yet, dread Priam,    There is no lady of more softer bowels,    More spongy to suck in the sense of fear,    More ready to cry out 'Who knows what follows?'    Than Hector is. The wound of peace is surety,    Surety secure; but modest doubt is call'd    The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches    To th' bottom of the worst. Let Helen go.    Since the first sword was drawn about this question,    Every tithe soul 'mongst many thousand dismes    Hath been as dear as Helen-I mean, of ours.    If we have lost so many tenths of ours    To guard a thing not ours, nor worth to us,    Had it our name, the value of one ten,    What merit's in that reason which denies    The yielding of her up?  TROILUS. Fie, fie, my brother!    Weigh you the worth and honour of a king,    So great as our dread father's, in a scale    Of common ounces? Will you with counters sum    The past-proportion of his infinite,    And buckle in a waist most fathomless    With spans and inches so diminutive    As fears and reasons? Fie, for godly shame!  HELENUS. No marvel though you bite so sharp at reasons,    You are so empty of them. Should not our father    Bear the great sway of his affairs with reasons,    Because your speech hath none that tells him so?  TROILUS. You are for dreams and slumbers, brother priest;    You fur your gloves with reason. Here are your reasons:    You know an enemy intends you harm;    You know a sword employ'd is perilous,    And reason flies the object of all harm.    Who marvels, then, when Helenus beholds    A Grecian and his sword, if he do set    The very wings of reason to his heels    And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove,    Or like a star disorb'd? Nay, if we talk of reason,    Let's shut our gates and sleep. Manhood and honour    Should have hare hearts, would they but fat their thoughts    With this cramm'd reason. Reason and respect    Make livers pale and lustihood deject.  HECTOR. Brother, she is not worth what she doth, cost    The keeping.  TROILUS. What's aught but as 'tis valued?  HECTOR. But value dwells not in particular will:    It holds his estimate and dignity    As well wherein 'tis precious of itself    As in the prizer. 'Tis mad idolatry    To make the service greater than the god-I    And the will dotes that is attributive    To what infectiously itself affects,    Without some image of th' affected merit.  TROILUS. I take to-day a wife, and my election    Is led on in the conduct of my will;    My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears,    Two traded pilots 'twixt the dangerous shores    Of will and judgment: how may I avoid,    Although my will distaste what it elected,    The wife I chose? There can be no evasion    To blench from this and to stand firm by honour.    We turn not back the silks upon the merchant    When we have soil'd them; nor the remainder viands    We do not throw in unrespective sieve,    Because we now are full. It was thought meet    Paris should do some vengeance on the Greeks;    Your breath with full consent benied his sails;    The seas and winds, old wranglers, took a truce,    And did him service. He touch'd the ports desir'd;    And for an old aunt whom the Greeks held captive    He brought a Grecian queen, whose youth and freshness    Wrinkles Apollo's, and makes stale the morning.    Why keep we her? The Grecians keep our aunt.    Is she worth keeping? Why, she is a pearl    Whose price hath launch'd above a thousand ships,    And turn'd crown'd kings to merchants.    If you'll avouch 'twas wisdom Paris went-    As you must needs, for you all cried 'Go, go'-    If you'll confess he brought home worthy prize-    As you must needs, for you all clapp'd your hands,    And cried 'Inestimable!' – why do you now    The issue of your proper wisdoms rate,    And do a deed that never fortune did-    Beggar the estimation which you priz'd    Richer than sea and land? O theft most base,    That we have stol'n what we do fear to keep!    But thieves unworthy of a thing so stol'n    That in their country did them that disgrace    We fear to warrant in our native place!  CASSANDRA. [Within] Cry, Troyans, cry.  PRIAM. What noise, what shriek is this?  TROILUS. 'Tis our mad sister; I do know her voice.  CASSANDRA. [Within] Cry, Troyans.  HECTOR. It is Cassandra.

Enter CASSANDRA, raving

  CASSANDRA. Cry, Troyans, cry. Lend me ten thousand eyes,    And I will fill them with prophetic tears.  HECTOR. Peace, sister, peace.  CASSANDRA. Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled eld,    Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry,    Add to my clamours. Let us pay betimes    A moiety of that mass of moan to come.    Cry, Troyans, cry. Practise your eyes with tears.    Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand;    Our firebrand brother, Paris, burns us all.    Cry, Troyans, cry, A Helen and a woe!    Cry, cry. Troy burns, or else let Helen go.

Exit

  HECTOR. Now, youthful Troilus, do not these high strains    Of divination in our sister work    Some touches of remorse, or is your blood    So madly hot that no discourse of reason,    Nor fear of bad success in a bad cause,    Can qualify the same?  TROILUS. Why, brother Hector,    We may not think the justness of each act    Such and no other than event doth form it;    Nor once deject the courage of our minds    Because Cassandra's mad. Her brain-sick raptures    Cannot distaste the goodness of a quarrel    Which hath our several honours all engag'd    To make it gracious. For my private part,    I am no more touch'd than all Priam's sons;    And Jove forbid there should be done amongst us    Such things as might offend the weakest spleen    To fight for and maintain.  PARIS. Else might the world convince of levity    As well my undertakings as your counsels;    But I attest the gods, your full consent    Gave wings to my propension, and cut of    All fears attending on so dire a project.    For what, alas, can these my single arms?    What propugnation is in one man's valour    To stand the push and enmity of those    This quarrel would excite? Yet, I protest,    Were I alone to pass the difficulties,    And had as ample power as I have will,    Paris should ne'er retract what he hath done    Nor faint in the pursuit.  PRIAM. Paris, you speak    Like one besotted on your sweet delights.    You have the honey still, but these the gall;    So to be valiant is no praise at all.  PARIS. Sir, I propose not merely to myself    The pleasures such a beauty brings with it;    But I would have the soil of her fair rape    Wip'd off in honourable keeping her.    What treason were it to the ransack'd queen,    Disgrace to your great worths, and shame to me,    Now to deliver her possession up    On terms of base compulsion! Can it be    That so degenerate a strain as this    Should once set footing in your generous bosoms?    There's not the meanest spirit on our party    Without a heart to dare or sword to draw    When Helen is defended; nor none so noble    Whose life were ill bestow'd or death unfam'd    Where Helen is the subject. Then, I say,    Well may we fight for her whom we know well    The world's large spaces cannot parallel.  HECTOR. Paris and Troilus, you have both said well;    And on the cause and question now in hand    Have gloz'd, but superficially; not much    Unlike young men, whom Aristode thought    Unfit to hear moral philosophy.    The reasons you allege do more conduce    To the hot passion of distemp'red blood    Than to make up a free determination    'Twixt right and wrong; for pleasure and revenge    Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice    Of any true decision. Nature craves    All dues be rend'red to their owners. Now,    What nearer debt in all humanity    Than wife is to the husband? If this law    Of nature be corrupted through affection;    And that great minds, of partial indulgence    To their benumbed wills, resist the same;    There is a law in each well-order'd nation    To curb those raging appetites that are    Most disobedient and refractory.    If Helen, then, be wife to Sparta's king-    As it is known she is-these moral laws    Of nature and of nations speak aloud    To have her back return'd. Thus to persist    In doing wrong extenuates not wrong,    But makes it much more heavy. Hector's opinion    Is this, in way of truth. Yet, ne'er the less,    My spritely brethren, I propend to you    In resolution to keep Helen still;    For 'tis a cause that hath no mean dependence    Upon our joint and several dignities.  TROILUS. Why, there you touch'd the life of our design.    Were it not glory that we more affected    Than the performance of our heaving spleens,    I would not wish a drop of Troyan blood    Spent more in her defence. But, worthy Hector,    She is a theme of honour and renown,    A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds,    Whose present courage may beat down our foes,    And fame in time to come canonize us;    For I presume brave Hector would not lose    So rich advantage of a promis'd glory    As smiles upon the forehead of this action    For the wide world's revenue.  HECTOR. I am yours,    You valiant offspring of great Priamus.    I have a roisting challenge sent amongst    The dull and factious nobles of the Greeks    Will strike amazement to their drowsy spirits.    I was advertis'd their great general slept,    Whilst emulation in the army crept.    This, I presume, will wake him.

Exeunt

ACT II. SCENE 3. The Grecian camp. Before the tent of ACHILLES

Enter THERSITES, solus

  THERSITES. How now, Thersites! What, lost in the labyrinth ofthy    fury? Shall the elephant Ajax carry it thus? He beats me, andI    rail at him. O worthy satisfaction! Would it were otherwise:that    I could beat him, whilst he rail'd at me! 'Sfoot, I'll learnto    conjure and raise devils, but I'll see some issue of myspiteful    execrations. Then there's Achilles, a rare engineer! If Troybe    not taken till these two undermine it, the walls will standtill    they fall of themselves. O thou great thunder-darter ofOlympus,    forget that thou art Jove, the king of gods, and, Mercury,lose    all the serpentine craft of thy caduceus, if ye take not that    little little less-than-little wit from them that they have!    which short-arm'd ignorance itself knows is so abundantscarce,    it will not in circumvention deliver a fly from a spiderwithout    drawing their massy irons and cutting the web. After this,the    vengeance on the whole camp! or, rather, the Neapolitan    bone-ache! for that, methinks, is the curse depending onthose    that war for a placket. I have said my prayers; and devilEnvy    say 'Amen.' What ho! my Lord Achilles!

Enter PATROCLUS