« PreviousContinue »
To answer such a question: Stand again:
I tell thee, yea.
But I'll endeavour deeds to match these words,
have stomach; the general state, I fear, Can scarce entreat you to be odd with him. Hect. I pray you, let us see you in the field; We have had pelting wars, since you refus'd The Grecians' cause.
Achil. Dost thou entreat me, Hector? To-morrow, do I meet thee, fell as death; To-night, all friends. Hect.
Thy hand upon that match. Agam. First, all you peers of Greece, go to my tent;
There in the full convive we: afterwards,
[Exeunt all but Troilus and Ulysses.
[much, Tro. Shall I, sweet lord, be bound to you so After we part from Agamemnon's tent, To bring me thither? Ulyss.
You shall command me, sir. As gentle tell me, of what honour was This Cressida in Troy? Had she no lover there, That wails her absence?
Tro. O, sir, to such as boasting shew their scars, A mock is due. Will you walk on, my lord? She was belov'd, she lov'd; she is, and doth: But, still, sweet love is food for fortune's tooth.
thy talk: thou art thought to be Achilles' male varlet.
Patr. Male varlet, you rogue! What's that? Ther. Why, his masculine whore. Now the rotten diseases of the south, the guts-griping, ruptures, catarrhs, loads o'gravel i'the back, lethargies, cold palsies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten livers, wheezing lungs, bladders full of imposthume, sciaticas, limekilns i'the palm, incurable bone-ach, and the rivelled fee-simple of the tetter, take and take again such preposterous discoveries!
Patr. Why, thou damnable box of envy, thou, what meanest thou to curse thus?
Ther. Do I curse thee?
Patr. Why, no, you ruinons butt; you whoreson indistinguishable cur, no.
Ther. No? why art thou then exasperate, thou idle immaterial skein of sleive silk, thou green sarcenet flap for a sore eye, thou tassel of a prodigal's purse, thou? Ah, how the poor world is pestered with such water-flies; diminutives of
Patr. Out, gall!
Ther. Finch egg!
Achil. My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite From my great purpose in to-morrow's battle." Here is a letter from queen Hecuba; A token from her daughter, my fair love; Both taxing me, and gaging me to keep An oath that I have sworn. I will not break it: Fall, Greeks; fail, fame; honour, or go, or stay; My major vow lies here, this I'll obey.Come, come, Thersites, help to trim my tent; This night in banqueting must all be spent.Away, Patroclus.
[Exeunt Achilles and Patroclus. Ther. With too much blood, and too little brain, these two aay run mad; but if with too much brain, and too little blood, they do, I'll be a curer of madmen. Here's Agamemnon, an honest fellow enough, and one that loves quails; but he has not so much brain as ear-wax: And the goodly transformation of Jupiter there, his brother, the bull, the primitive statue, and oblique memorial of cuckolds; a thrifty shoeing-horn in a chain, hanging at his brother's leg, to what form, but that he is, should wit larded with malice, and malice forced with wit, turn him to? To an ass, were nothing; he is both ass and ox: to an ox, were nothing; he is both ox and ass. To be a dog, a mule, a cat, a fitchew, a toad, a lizard, an owl, a puttock, or a herring without a roe, I would not care; but to be Menelaus,-I would conspire against destiny. Ask me not what I would be, if I were not Thersites; for I care not to be the louse of a lazar, so I were not Menelaus. Hey-day!
SCENE I.-The Grecian Camp. Before Achilles' spirits and fires!
Achil. How now, thou core of envy? Thou crusty batch of nature, what's the news? Ther. Why, thou picture of what thou seemest, and idol of idiot-worshippers, here's a letter for thee. Achil. From whence, fragment?
Ther. Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy. Patr. Who keeps the tent now?
Ther. The surgeon's box, or the patient's wound. Patr. Well said, Adversity! and what need these tricks?
Ther. Pr'ythee be silent, boy; I profit not by
Ther. Sweet draught: Sweet, quoth 'a! sweet
sink, sweet sewer.
Achil. Good night,
And welcome, both to those that go, or tarry.
[Exeunt Agamemnon and Menelaus. Achil. Old Nestor tarries; and you too, Diomed, Keep Hector company an hour or two. Dio. I cannot, lord; I have important business, The tide whereof is now.-Good night, great Hect. Give me your hand. [Hector. Ulyss. Follow his torch, he goes To Calchas' tent; I'll keep you company. (Aside to Troilus.)
Tro. Sweet sir, you honour me.
And so good night. [Exit Diomed; Ulyss, and Tro. following. Achil. Come, come, enter my tent.
[Exeunt Achil. Hector, Ajax, and Nest. Ther. That same Diomed's a false-hearted rogue, a most unjust knave; I will no more trust him when he leers, than I will a serpent when he hisses: he will spend his mouth, and promise, like Brabler the hound; but when he performs, astronomers foretel it; it is prodigious, there will come some change; the sun borrows of the moon, when Diomed keeps his word. I will rather leave to see Hector, than not to dog him they say, he keeps a Trojan drab, and uses the traitor Calchas' tent: I'll after.-Nothing but lechery! all incontinent varlets! [Exit.
SCENE II. The same. Before Calchas' Tent.
Dio. What, are you up here, ho? speak.
Dio. Diomed.-Calchas, I think.-Where's your daughter?
Cal. [Within.] She comes to you.
Enter TROILUS and ULYSSES, at a distance; after them THERSITES.
Ulyss. Stand where the torch may not discover us. Enter CRESSIDA.
Tro. Cressid, come forth to him!
How now, my charge?
Cres. Now, my sweet guardian!-Hark! a word
with you. (Whispers.)
Tro. Yea, so familiar!
Ulyss. She will sing any man at first sight.
Ther. And any man may sing her, if he can take her cliff; she's noted.
Dio. Will you remember?
Nay, but do then;
And let your mind be coupled with your words. Tro. What should she remember?
Cres. Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly.
Dio. Nay, then,—
I'll tell you what :
Dio. Pho! pho! come, tell a pin: You are for
I will be patient.
She strokes his cheek!
Cres. In faith, I do not; come hither once again. Ulyss. You shake, my lord, at something; will You will break out. [you go? Tro. Ulyss. Come, come. Tro. Nay, stay; by Jove, I will not speak a word: There is between my will and all offences A guard of patience;-stay a little while.
Ther. How the devil luxury, with his fat rump, and potatoe finger, tickles these together! Fry, lechery, fry!
Dio. I had your heart before, this follows it.
Cres. You shall not have it, Diomed: 'faith, you shall not;
I'll give you something else.
Dio. I will have this; Whose was it?
'Tis no matter.
Dio. Come, tell me whose it was.
Dio. To-morrow will I wear it on my helm; And grieve his spirit, that dares not challenge it. Tro. Wert thou the devil, and wor'st it on thy It should be challeng'd. [horn, Cress. Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis past ;-And yet it is not;
I will not keep my word.
Dio. Why then, farewell;
Cres. You shall not go:-one cannot speak a But it straight starts you. [word, Dio. I do not like this fooling. Ther. Nor I, by Pluto: but that, that likes not you, pleases me best.
Dio. What, shall I come? the hour?
Ay, come :-O Jove!
Do come:-I shall be plagu'd.
Unless she said, My mind is now turn'd whore.
That doth invert the attest of eyes and ears;
Was Cressid here?
Tro. Let it not be believ'd for womanhood! Think, we had mothers; do not give advantage To stubborn critics-apt, without a theme, For depravation,-to square the general sex By Cressid's rule: rather think this not Cressid. Ulyss. What hath she done, prince, that can soil our mothers?
Tro. Nothing at all, unless that this were she.
If beauty have a soul, this is not she;
This was not she. O madness of discourse,
And with another knot, five-finger tied,
The fractions of her faith, orts of her love,
Ther. He'll tickle it for his concupy.
Tro. O Cressid! O false Cressid! false, false, false!
Let all untruths stand by thy stained name,
Ene. I have been seeking you this hour, my lord:
Farewell, revolted fair!-and, Diomed,
Tro. Accept distracted thanks.
[Exeunt Troilus, Æneas, and Ulysses. Ther. 'Would, I could meet that rogue Diomed! I would croak like a raven; I would bode, I would bode. Patroclus will give me any thing for the intelligence of this whore: the parrot will not do more for an almond, than he for a commodious drab. Lechery, lechery; still wars and lechery; nothing else holds fashion: A burning devil take them. [Exit.
SCENE III.-Troy. Before Priam's Palace. Enter HECTOR and ANDROMACHE. And. When was my lord so much ungently temTo stop his ears against admonishment? [per'd, Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to-day. Hect. You train me to offend you; get you in; By all the everlasting gods, I'll go. And. My dreams will, sure, prove ominous to the day.
Hect. No more, I say.
TROILUS AND CRESSIDA.
Cas. It is the purpose, that makes strong the | Hark, how Troy roars! how Hecuba cries out!
Bat vows, to every purpose, must not hold : Unarm, sweet Hector.
Hold you still, I say;
How now, young man? mean'st thou to fight to-day?
I am to-day i'the vein of chivalry:
Let grow thy sinews till their knots be strong,
Tro. Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you,
Hect. What vice is that, good Troilus? chide
Tro. When many times the captive Grecians fall,
Fool's play, by heaven, Hector.
Hector, then 'tis wars.
Hect. Troilus, I would not have you fight to-day.
Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars
Their eyes o'ergalled with recourse of tears;
Re-enter CASSANDRA, with PRIAM.
Cas. Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him fast; He is thy crutch; now if thou lose thy stay, Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee, Fall all together.
Come, Hector, come, go back:
Eneas is a-field;
This morning to them.
But thou shalt not go.
How poor Andromache shrills her dolors forth!
And all cry-Hector! Hector's dead! O, Hector!
Cas. Farewell.-Yet, soft: Hector, I take my
Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive. [Exit.
[Exeunt severally Priam and Hector.
Tro. They are at it; hark! Proud Diomed, believe,
I come to lose my arm, or win my sleeve.
As Troilus is going out, enter, from the other side,
Pan. Do you hear, my lord? do
Pan. Here's a letter from yon' poor girl.
Pan. A whoreson ptisick, a whoreson rascally
SCENE IV.- Between Troy and the Grecian Camp.
Thou dost miscall retire:
Ther. Hold thy whore, Grecian!-now for thy whore, Trojan!-now the sleeve, now the sleeve!" [Exeunt Troilus and Diomedes, fighting. Enter HECTOR.
Hect. What art thou, Greek, art thou for Hector's match?
Art thou of blood, and honour?
Ther. No, no: I am a rascal; a scurvy railing knave; a very filthy rogue.
Nes. Go, bear Patroclus' body to Achilles; And bid the snail-pac'd Ajax arm for slame.There is a thousand Hectors in the field: Now here he fights on Galathe his horse, And there lacks work; anon, he's there afoot, And there they fly, or die, like scaled sculls Before the belching whale; then is he yonder, And there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge, Fall down before him, like the mower's swath: Here, there, and every where, he leaves, and
Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance:
Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend,
With such a careless force, and forceless care,
Dio. Troilus, I say! where's Troilus?
Dio. I would correct him.
Ere that correction:-Troilus, I say! what,Troilus! Enter TROILUS.
Tro. O traitor Diomed!-turn thy false face, thou traitor,
And pay thy life thou ow'st me for my horse!
Ajax. I'll fight with him alone: stand, Diomed.
I would have been much more a fresher man, Had I expected thee.-How now, my brother?
Tro. Ajax hath ta'en Æneas; Shall it be? No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven, He shall not carry him; I'll be taken too, Or bring him off:-Fate, hear me what I say! I reck not though I end my life to-day.
Enter one in sumptuous armour.
Hect. Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou art a goodly mark:
No? wilt thou not?-I like thy armour well;
Why then, fly on, I'll hunt thee for thy hide.
SCENE VII.-The same.
Enter ACHILLES, with Myrmidons. Achil. Come here about me, you my Myrmidons : Mark what I say.-Attend me where I wheel : Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath; And when I have the bloody Hector found, Empale him with your weapons round about; In fellest manner execute your arms. Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye :It is decreed-Hector the great must die.
SCENE VIII.-The same.
Ther. The cuckold, and the cuckold-maker are at it: Now, bull! now, dog! 'Loo, Paris, 'loo! now my double-henned sparrow! 'loo, Paris, 'loo! The bull has the game:-'ware horns, ho! [Exeunt Paris and Menelaus. Enter MARGARELON.
Mar. Turn, slave, and fight.
Ther. What art thou?
Mar. A bastard son of Priam's.
Ther. I am a bastard too; I love bastards: I am a bastard begot, bastard instructed, bastard in