ACHILLES
Of this my privacy
I have strong reasons.
ULYSSES
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.
ACHILLES Ha? Known?
ULYSSES
Is that a wonder?
The providence that’s in a watchful state
Knows almost every grain of Pluto’s gold,
Finds bottom in th’uncomprehensive deeps,
Keeps place with aught, and almost like the gods
Do infant thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles.
There is a mystery, with whom relation
Durst never meddle, in the soul of state,
Which hath an operation more divine
Than breath or pen can give expressure to.
All the commerce that you have had with Troy
As perfectly is ours as yours, my lord;
And better would it fit Achilles much
To throw down Hector than Polyxena.
But it must grieve young Pyrrhus now at home,
When fame shall in his island sound her trump
And all the Greekish girls shall tripping sing,
’Great Hector’s sister did Achilles win,
But our great Ajax bravely beat down him’.
Farewell, my lord. I as your lover speak.
The fool slides o’er the ice that you should break. Exit
PATROCLUS
To this effect, Achilles, have I moved you.
A woman impudent and mannish grown
Is not more loathed than an effeminate man
In time of action. I stand condemned for this.
They think my little stomach to the war
And your great love to me restrains you thus.
Sweet, rouse yourself, and the weak wanton Cupid
Shall from your neck unloose his amorous fold
And like a dew-drop from the lion’s mane
Be shook to air.
ACHILLES Shall Ajax fight with Hector?
PATROCLUS
Ay, and perhaps receive much honour by him.
ACHILLES
I see my reputation is at stake.
My fame is shrewdly gored.
PATROCLUS
O then beware:
Those wounds heal ill that men do give themselves.
Omission to do what is necessary
Seals a commission to a blank of danger,
And danger like an ague subtly taints
Even then when we sit idly in the sun.
ACHILLES
Go call Thersites hither, sweet Patroclus.
I’ll send the fool to Ajax, and desire him
T’invite the Trojan lords after the combat
To see us here unarmed. I have a woman’s longing,
An appetite that I am sick withal,
To see great Hector in his weeds of peace,
To talk with him and to behold his visage
Even to my full of view.—A labour saved.
THERSITES A wonder!
ACHILLES What?
THERSITES Ajax goes up and down the field, as asking for himself.
ACHILLES How so?
THERSITES He must fight singly tomorrow with Hector, and is so prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling that he raves in saying nothing.
ACHILLES How can that be?
THERSITES Why, a 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’t would 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‘th’ combat he’ll break’t himself in vainglory. 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’s grown a very land-fish, languageless, a monster. A plague of opinion! A man may wear it on both sides like a leather jerkin.
ACHILLES Thou must be my ambassador to him, Thersites.
THERSITES Who, I? Why, he’ll answer nobody. He professes not answering. Speaking is for beggars. He wears his tongue in’s arms. I will put on his presence. Let Patroclus make demands to me. You shall see the pageant of Ajax.
ACHILLES 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-times-honoured captain-general of the Grecian army, Agamemnon; et cetera. Do this.
PATROCLUS
(to Thersites)
Jove bless great Ajax!
THERSITES H’m.
PATROCLUS I come from the worthy Achilles—
THERSITES Ha?
PATROCLUS Who most humbly desires you to invite Hector to his tent—
THERSITES H’m!
PATROCLUS And to procure safe-conduct from Agamemnon.
THERSITES Agamemnon?
PATROCLUS Ay, my lord.
THERSITES Ha!
PATROCLUS What say you to’t?
THERSITES God b’wi’ you, with all my heart.
PATROCLUS Your answer, sir?
THERSITES If tomorrow 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.
PATROCLUS Your answer, sir?
THERSITES Fare ye well, with all my heart.
ACHILLES Why, but he is not in this tune, is he?
THERSITES 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 feared none, unless the fiddler Apollo get his sinews to make catlings on.
ACHILLES
Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight.
THERSITES Let me carry another to his horse, for that’s the more capable creature.
ACHILLES
My mind is troubled like a fountain stirred,
And I myself see not the bottom of it.
THERSITES 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
4.1
Enter at one door Aeneas with a torch; at another Paris, Deiphobus, Antenor, and Diomedes the Grecian, with torch-bearers
PARIS See, hol Who is that there?
DEIPHOBUS It is the Lord Aeneas.
AENEAS 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.
DIOMEDES
That’s my mind too. Good morrow, Lord Aeneas.
PARIS
A valiant Greek, Aeneas, take his hand.
Witness the process of your speech, wherein
You told how Diomed e’en a whole week by days
Did haunt you in the field.
AENEAS (
to Diomedes
) Health to you, valiant sir,
During all question of the gentle truce.
But when I meet you armed, as black defiance
As heart can think or courage execute.
DIOMEDES
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.
AENEAS
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.
DIOMEDES
We sympathize. Jove, let Aeneas 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, tomorrow.
AENEAS We know each other well.
DIOMEDES
We do, and long to know each other worse.
PARIS
This is the most despitefull‘st gentle greeting,
The noblest hateful love, that e’er I heard of.
What business, lord, so early?
AENEAS
I was sent for to the King; but why, I know not.
PARIS
His purpose meets you: ’twas to bring this Greek
To Calchas’ house, and there to render him,
For the enfreed Antenor, the fair Cressid.
Let’s have your company, or if you please
Haste there before us.
⌈Aside⌉
I constantly do think—
Or rather, call my thought a certain knowledge—
My brother Troilus lodges there tonight.
Rouse him and give him note of our approach,
With the whole quality wherefore. I fear
We shall be much unwelcome.
AENEAS ⌈
aside
⌉ That I assure you.
Troilus had rather Troy were borne to Greece
Than Cressid borne from Troy.
PARIS ⌈
aside
⌉
There is no help.
The bitter disposition of the time
Will have it so.
⌈
Aloud
⌉ On, lord, we’ll follow you.
AENEAS Good morrow all.
Exit
PARIS
And tell me, noble Diomed—faith, tell me true,
Even in the soul of sound good-fellowship-
Who in your thoughts merits fair Helen most,
Myself or Menelaus?
DIOMEDES 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 pleased to breed out your inheritors.
Both merits poised, each weighs nor less nor more,
But he as he: which heavier for a whore?
PARIS
You are too bitter to your countrywoman.
DIOMEDES
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
As, for her, Greeks and Trojans suffered death.
PARIS
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 but commend what we intend to sell.—
Here lies our way. Exeunt
4.2
Enter Troilus and Cressida
TROILUS
Dear, trouble not yourself. The morn is cold.
CRESSIDA
Then, sweet my lord, I’ll call mine uncle down.
He shall unbolt the gates.
TROILUS
Trouble him not.
To bed, to bed! Sleep lull those pretty eyes
And give as soft attachment to thy senses
As to infants empty of all thought.
CRESSIDA Good morrow, then.
TROILUS I prithee now, to bed.
CRESSIDA Are you aweary of me?
TROILUS
O Cressida! But that the busy day,
Waked by the lark, hath roused the ribald crows,
And dreaming night will hide our joys no longer,
I would not from thee.
CRESSIDA Night hath been too brief.
TROILUS
Beshrew the witch! With venomous wights she stays
As hideously as hell, but flies the grasps of love
With wings more momentary-swift than thought.
You will catch cold and curse me.
CRESSIDA
Prithee, tarry. You men will never tarry.
O foolish Cressid! I might have still held off,
And then you would have tarried.—Hark, there’s one
up.
PANDARUS (within) What’s all the doors open here?
TROILUS It is your uncle.
CRESSIDA
A pestilence on him! Now will he be mocking.
I shall have such a life.
PANDARUS How now, how now, how go maidenheads? (To Cressida) Here, you, maid! Where’s my cousin Cressid?
CRESSIDA ⌈
unveiling
⌉
Go hang yourself. You naughty, mocking uncle!
You bring me to do—and then you flout me too.
PANDARUS To do what? To do what?—Let her say what.—What have I brought you to do?
CRESSIDA
Come, come, beshrew your heart. You’ll ne’er be
good,
Nor suffer others.
PINDARUS Ha ha! Alas, poor wretch. Ah, poor capocchia, hast not slept tonight? Would he not—a naughty man—let it sleep? A bugbear take him.