« PreviousContinue »
Patr. Well said, Adversity! and what need these tricks?
Ther. Pr'ythee be silent, boy; I profit not by 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, sciatica, 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 ?
A token from her daughter, my fair love;
[Exeunt ACHIJ LES and PATROCLUS. Ther. With too much blood and too little brain, these two may 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 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! spirits and fires!
Ajar. No, not a whit. Ulyss.
I trouble you.
Here comes himself to guide you.
Tro. Sweet sir, you honour me.
[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 foretell 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.
Before Calchas' Tent. Enter DIOMEDES.
SCENE II. The same.
Enter TROILUS and ULYSSES, at a distance; after them THERSites.
Ulyss. Stand where the torch may not discover us.
Tro. Cressid come forth to him! Dio. How now, my charge? Cres. Now my sweet guardian! - Hark! 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? Cres. Remember? yes. Dio. Nay, but do then; And let your mind be coupled with words. Tro. What should she remember? Ulyss. List!
Tro. Thy better must.
Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself
Tro. I pr'ythee, stay.
O wither'd truth!
I will be patient.
torments, I will not speak a word. Dio. And so, good night. Cres. Nay, but you part in anger. Tro.
You have not patience; come. stay; by hell, and all hell's
Doth that grieve thee?
Why, how now, lord?
Guardian! - why, Greek! Dio. Pho, pho! adieu; you palter. Cres. In faith, I do not; come hither once again. Ulyss. You shake, my lord, at something; will you go? You will break out.
She strokes his cheek!
Come, come. Tro. Nay, stay; by Jove, I will not speak a word:
There is between my will and all offences
Ther. How the devil luxury, with his fat rump, and potatoe finger, tickles these together! Fry, lechery, fry!
Dio. But will you then?
Cres. In faith, I will, la: never trust me else.
Ulyss. You have sworn patience. Tro. Fear me not, my lord; I will not be myself, nor have cognition Of what I feel; I am all patience.
Ther. Now the pledge; now, now, now!
I'll give you something else.
Dio. I will have this; Whose was it? Cres. 'Tis no matter Dio. Come, tell me whose it was. Cres. 'Twas one's that loved me better than you will.
But, now you have it, take it.
Whose was it? Cres. By all Diana's waiting-women, yonder, And by herself, I will not tell you whose.
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 horn, It should be challeng'd. Cres.
Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis past;it is not; I will not keep my word. Dio. Why then, farewell; Thou never shalt mock Diomed again. Cres. You shall not go : One cannot speak a word,
But it straight starts you.
Dio. What, shall I come? the hour?
I do not like this fooling. but that that likes not
O Jove! Dio. Farewell till then. Cres. Good night. I pr'ythee, come. — [Exit DIOMEDES. Troilus, farewell! one eye yet looks on thee; But with my heart the other eye doth see. Ah! poor our sex! this fault in us I find, The error of our eye directs our mind : What error leads, must err; O then conclude, Minds, sway'd by eyes, are full of turpitude. [Erit CRESSIDA. Ther. A proof of strength she could not publish
Unless she said, My mind is now turn'd whore.
Why stay we then? Tro. To make a recordation to my soul Of every syllable that here was spoke. But, if I tell how these two did co-act, Shall I not lie in publishing a truth? Sith yet there is a credence in my heart, An esperance so obstinately strong, That doth invert the attest of eyes and ears; As if those organs had deceptious functions, Created only to calumniate.
Was Cressid here?
I cannot conjure, Trojan. Tro. She was not, sure. Ulyss. Most sure she was. Tro. Why, my negation hath no taste of madness. Ulyss. Nor mine, my lord: Cressid was here but
Tro. Let it not be believ'd for womanhood! Think, we had mothers; do not give advantage To stubborn criticks-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. Ther. Will he swagger himself out on's own eyes?
Tro. This she? no, this is Diomed's Cressida : If beauty have a soul, this is not she; If souls guide vows, if vows be sanctimony, If sanctimony be the gods' delight,
If there be rule in unity itself,
This was not she. O madness of discourse,
And with another knot, five-finger-tied,
The fractions of her faith, orts of her love,
Ulyss. May worthy Troilus be half attach'd
Tro. Ay, Greek; and that shall be divulged well
Tro. O Cressid! O false Cressid! false, flse, false,
Let all untruths stand by thy stained name,
Ene. I have been seeking you this hour, my lord:
Hector, by this, is arming him in Troy;
In characters as red as Mars his heart
Ther. He'll tickle it for his concupy.
[Exeunt TROILUS, ENEAS, 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 [Exit.
SCENE III. Troy. Before Priam's Palace. Enter HECTOR and ANDROMACHE.
And. When was my lord so much ungently temper'd,
To stop his ears against admonishment?
Hect. You train me to offend you; get you in:
Where is my brother Hector?
Cas. O, it is true.
Hect. Begone, I say: the gods have heard me
Come, Hector, come, go back : Thy wife hath dream'd; thy mother hath had visions;
Cassandra doth foresee; and I myself
Am like a prophet suddenly enrapt,
Eneas is a-field; And I do stand engag'd to many Greeks, Even in the faith of valour, to appear This morning to them.
Cas. O Priam, yield not to him.
[Exit ANDROMACHE. Tro. This foolish, dreaming superstitious girl Makes all these bodements.
Look, how thy wounds do bleed at many vents!
Hector, I take my
[Exeunt severally PRIAM and HECTOR. Tro. They are at it; hark! Proud Diomed, believe,
I come to lose my arm, or win my sleeve.
O farewell, dear Hector. Look, how thou diest! look, how thy eye turns pale!
AS TROILUS is going out, enter, from the other side, PANDARUS.
Pan. Do you hear, my lord? do you hear?
Pan. Here's a letter from yon' poor girl.
Pan. A whoreson ptisick, a whoreson rascally ptisick so troubles me, and the foolish fortune of this girl; and what one thing, what another, that I shall leave you one o'these days: And I have a rheum in mine eyes too; and such an ache in my bones, that, unless a man were cursed, I cannot tell what to think on't. What says she there? Tro. Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart; [Tearing the letter. The effect doth operate another way. Go, wind, to wind, there turn and change together.
My love with words and errors still she feeds; But edifies another with her deeds.
·Between Troy and the Grecian Camp.
Alarums: Excursions. Enter THERSITES.
Ther. Now they are clapper-clawing one another; I'll go look on. That dissembling abominable varlet, Diomed, has got that same scurvy doting foolish young knave's sleeve of Troy there in his helm: I would fain see them meet; that that same young Trojan ass, that loves the whore there, might send that Greekish whoremasterly villain, with the sleeve, back to the dissembling luxurious drab, on a sleeveless errand. O' the other side, The policy of those crafty swearing rascals, that stale old mouse-eaten dry cheese, Nestor; and that same dog-fox, Ulysses,
is not proved worth a blackberry: - They set me up, in policy, that mongrel cur, Ajax, against that dog of as bad a kind, Achilles: and now is the cur Ajax prouder than the cur Achilles, and will not arm to-day; whereupon the Grecians begin to proclaim barbarism, and policy grows into an ill opinion, Soft! here come sleeve, and t'other.
Enter DIOMEDES, TROILUS following.
Tro. Fly not; for, shouldst thou take the rive Styx, I would swim after.
Art thou of blood, and honour?
Ther. No, no: - I am a rascal; a scurvy railing <nave; a very filthy rogue.
Hect. I do believe thee;- live.
Ther. God-a-mercy, that thou wilt believe me; But a plague break thy neck, for frighting me! What's become of the wenching rogues? I think, they have swallowed one another: I would laugh at that miracle. Yet, in a sort, lechery eats itself. I'll seek them. [Exit.
Nest. Go, bear Patroclus' body to Achilles And bid the snail-pac'd Ajax arm for shame. 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 takes; Dexterity so obeying appetite, That what he will, he does; and does so much, That proof is call'd impossibility.
That noseless, handless, hack'd and chipp'd, come
Ulyss. O courage, courage, princes! great Achilles
Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance; Patroclus' wounds have rous'd his drowsy blood, Together with his mangled Myrmidons.
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,