Troilus and Cressida

1In Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of Greece

2The princes orgulous, their high blood chafed,

3Have to the port of Athens sent their ships,

4Fraught with the ministers and instruments

5Of cruel war: sixty and nine, that wore

6Their crownets regal, from the Athenian bay

7Put forth toward Phrygia; and their vow is made

8To ransack Troy, within whose strong immures

9The ravish'd Helen, Menelaus' queen,

10With wanton Paris sleeps; and that's the quarrel.

11To Tenedos they come;

12And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge

13Their warlike fraughtage: now on Dardan plains

14The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch

15Their brave pavilions: Priam's six-gated city,

16Dardan, and Tymbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien,

17And Antenorides, with massy staples

18And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts,

19Sperr up the sons of Troy.

20Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits,

21On one and other side, Trojan and Greek,

22Sets all on hazard: and hither am I come

23A prologue arm'd, but not in confidence

24Of author's pen or actor's voice, but suited

25In like conditions as our argument,

26To tell you, fair beholders, that our play

27Leaps o'er the vaunt and firstlings of those broils,

28Beginning in the middle, starting thence away

29To what may be digested in a play.

30Like or find fault; do as your pleasures are:

31Now good or bad, 'tis but the chance of war.

1Call here my varlet; I'll unarm again:

2Why should I war without the walls of Troy,

3That find such cruel battle here within?

4Each Trojan that is master of his heart,

5Let him to field; Troilus, alas! hath none.

6Will this gear ne'er be mended?

7The Greeks are strong and skilful to their strength,

8Fierce to their skill and to their fierceness valiant;

9But I am weaker than a woman's tear,

10Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance,

11Less valiant than the virgin in the night

12And skilless as unpractised infancy.

13Well, I have told you enough of this: for my part,

14I'll not meddle nor make no further. He that will

15have a cake out of the wheat must needs tarry the grinding.

16Have I not tarried?

17Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry

18the bolting.

19Have I not tarried?

20Ay, the bolting, but you must tarry the leavening.

21Still have I tarried.

22Ay, to the leavening; but here's yet in the word

23'hereafter' the kneading, the making of the cake, the

24heating of the oven and the baking; nay, you must

25stay the cooling too, or you may chance to burn your lips.

26Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be,

27Doth lesser blench at sufferance than I do.

28At Priam's royal table do I sit;

29And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts,--

30So, traitor! 'When she comes!' When is she thence?

31Well, she looked yesternight fairer than ever I saw

32her look, or any woman else.

33I was about to tell thee:--when my heart,

34As wedged with a sigh, would rive in twain,

35Lest Hector or my father should perceive me,

36I have, as when the sun doth light a storm,

37Buried this sigh in wrinkle of a smile:

38But sorrow, that is couch'd in seeming gladness,

39Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness.

40An her hair were not somewhat darker than Helen's--

41well, go to--there were no more comparison between

42the women: but, for my part, she is my kinswoman; I

43would not, as they term it, praise her: but I would

44somebody had heard her talk yesterday, as I did. I

45will not dispraise your sister Cassandra's wit, but--

46O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus,--

47When I do tell thee, there my hopes lie drown'd,

48Reply not in how many fathoms deep

49They lie indrench'd. I tell thee I am mad

50In Cressid's love: thou answer'st 'she is fair;'

51Pour'st in the open ulcer of my heart

52Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice,

53Handlest in thy discourse, O, that her hand,

54In whose comparison all whites are ink,

55Writing their own reproach, to whose soft seizure

56The cygnet's down is harsh and spirit of sense

57Hard as the palm of ploughman: this thou tell'st me,

58As true thou tell'st me, when I say I love her;

59But, saying thus, instead of oil and balm,

60Thou lay'st in every gash that love hath given me

61The knife that made it.

62I speak no more than truth.

63Thou dost not speak so much.

64Faith, I'll not meddle in't. Let her be as she is:

65if she be fair, 'tis the better for her; an she be

66not, she has the mends in her own hands.

67Good Pandarus, how now, Pandarus!

68I have had my labour for my travail; ill-thought on of

69her and ill-thought on of you; gone between and

70between, but small thanks for my labour.

71What, art thou angry, Pandarus? what, with me?

72Because she's kin to me, therefore she's not so fair

73as Helen: an she were not kin to me, she would be as

74fair on Friday as Helen is on Sunday. But what care

75I? I care not an she were a black-a-moor; 'tis all one to me.

76Say I she is not fair?

77I do not care whether you do or no. She's a fool to

78stay behind her father; let her to the Greeks; and so

79I'll tell her the next time I see her: for my part,

80I'll meddle nor make no more i' the matter.

81Pandarus,--

82Not I.

83Sweet Pandarus,--

84Pray you, speak no more to me: I will leave all as I

85found it, and there an end.

86Peace, you ungracious clamours! peace, rude sounds!

87Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair,

88When with your blood you daily paint her thus.

89I cannot fight upon this argument;

90It is too starved a subject for my sword.

91But Pandarus,--O gods, how do you plague me!

92I cannot come to Cressid but by Pandar;

93And he's as tetchy to be woo'd to woo.

94As she is stubborn-chaste against all suit.

95Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne's love,

96What Cressid is, what Pandar, and what we?

97Her bed is India; there she lies, a pearl:

98Between our Ilium and where she resides,

99Let it be call'd the wild and wandering flood,

100Ourself the merchant, and this sailing Pandar

101Our doubtful hope, our convoy and our bark.

102How now, Prince Troilus! wherefore not afield?

103Because not there: this woman's answer sorts,

104For womanish it is to be from thence.

105What news, AEneas, from the field to-day?

106That Paris is returned home and hurt.

107By whom, AEneas?

108Troilus, by Menelaus.

109Let Paris bleed; 'tis but a scar to scorn;

110Paris is gored with Menelaus' horn.

111Hark, what good sport is out of town to-day!

112Better at home, if 'would I might' were 'may.'

113But to the sport abroad: are you bound thither?

114In all swift haste.

115Come, go we then together.

1Who were those went by?

2Queen Hecuba and Helen.

3And whither go they?

4Up to the eastern tower,

5Whose height commands as subject all the vale,

6To see the battle. Hector, whose patience

7Is, as a virtue, fix'd, to-day was moved:

8He chid Andromache and struck his armourer,

9And, like as there were husbandry in war,

10Before the sun rose he was harness'd light,

11And to the field goes he; where every flower

12Did, as a prophet, weep what it foresaw

13In Hector's wrath.

14What was his cause of anger?

15The noise goes, this: there is among the Greeks

16A lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Hector;

17They call him Ajax.

18Good; and what of him?

19They say he is a very man per se,

20And stands alone.

21So do all men, unless they are drunk, sick, or have no legs.

22This man, lady, hath robbed many beasts of their

23particular additions; he is as valiant as the lion,

24churlish as the bear, slow as the elephant: a man

25into whom nature hath so crowded humours that his

26valour is crushed into folly, his folly sauced with

27discretion: there is no man hath a virtue that he

28hath not a glimpse of, nor any man an attaint but he

29carries some stain of it: he is melancholy without

30cause, and merry against the hair: he hath the

31joints of every thing, but everything so out of joint

32that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no use,

33or purblind Argus, all eyes and no sight.

34But how should this man, that makes

35me smile, make Hector angry?

36They say he yesterday coped Hector in the battle and

37struck him down, the disdain and shame whereof hath

38ever since kept Hector fasting and waking.

39Who comes here?

40Madam, your uncle Pandarus.

41Hector's a gallant man.

42As may be in the world, lady.

43What's that? what's that?

44Good morrow, uncle Pandarus.

45Good morrow, cousin Cressid: what do you talk of?

46Good morrow, Alexander. How do you, cousin? When

47were you at Ilium?

48This morning, uncle.

49What were you talking of when I came? Was Hector

50armed and gone ere ye came to Ilium? Helen was not

51up, was she?

52Hector was gone, but Helen was not up.

53Even so: Hector was stirring early.

54That were we talking of, and of his anger.

55Was he angry?

56So he says here.

57True, he was so: I know the cause too: he'll lay

58about him to-day, I can tell them that: and there's

59Troilus will not come far behind him: let them take

60heed of Troilus, I can tell them that too.

61What, is he angry too?

62Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better man of the two.

63O Jupiter! there's no comparison.

64What, not between Troilus and Hector? Do you know a

65man if you see him?

66Ay, if I ever saw him before and knew him.

67Well, I say Troilus is Troilus.

68Then you say as I say; for, I am sure, he is not Hector.

69No, nor Hector is not Troilus in some degrees.

70'Tis just to each of them; he is himself.

71Himself! Alas, poor Troilus! I would he were.

72So he is.

73Condition, I had gone barefoot to India.

74He is not Hector.

75Himself! no, he's not himself: would a' were

76himself! Well, the gods are above; time must friend

77or end: well, Troilus, well: I would my heart were

78in her body. No, Hector is not a better man than Troilus.

79Excuse me.

80He is elder.

81Pardon me, pardon me.

82Th' other's not come to't; you shall tell me another

83tale, when th' other's come to't. Hector shall not

84have his wit this year.

85He shall not need it, if he have his own.

86Nor his qualities.

87No matter.

88Nor his beauty.

89'Twould not become him; his own's better.

90You have no judgment, niece: Helen

91herself swore th' other day, that Troilus, for

92a brown favour--for so 'tis, I must confess,--

93not brown neither,--

94No, but brown.

95'Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown.

96To say the truth, true and not true.

97She praised his complexion above Paris.

98Why, Paris hath colour enough.

99So he has.

100Then Troilus should have too much: if she praised

101him above, his complexion is higher than his; he

102having colour enough, and the other higher, is too

103flaming a praise for a good complexion. I had as

104lief Helen's golden tongue had commended Troilus for

105a copper nose.

106I swear to you. I think Helen loves him better than Paris.

107Then she's a merry Greek indeed.

108Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him th' other

109day into the compassed window,--and, you know, he

110has not past three or four hairs on his chin,--

111Indeed, a tapster's arithmetic may soon bring his

112particulars therein to a total.

113Why, he is very young: and yet will he, within

114three pound, lift as much as his brother Hector.

115Is he so young a man and so old a lifter?

116But to prove to you that Helen loves him: she came

117and puts me her white hand to his cloven chin--

118Juno have mercy! how came it cloven?

119Why, you know 'tis dimpled: I think his smiling

120becomes him better than any man in all Phrygia.

121O, he smiles valiantly.

122Does he not?

123O yes, an 'twere a cloud in autumn.

124Why, go to, then: but to prove to you that Helen

125loves Troilus,--

126Troilus will stand to the proof, if you'll

127prove it so.

128Troilus! why, he esteems her no more than I esteem

129an addle egg.

130If you love an addle egg as well as you love an idle

131head, you would eat chickens i' the shell.

132I cannot choose but laugh, to think how she tickled

133his chin: indeed, she has a marvellous white hand, I

134must needs confess,--

135Without the rack.

136And she takes upon her to spy a white hair on his chin.

137Alas, poor chin! many a wart is richer.

138But there was such laughing! Queen Hecuba laughed

139that her eyes ran o'er.

140With mill-stones.

141And Cassandra laughed.

142But there was more temperate fire under the pot of

143her eyes: did her eyes run o'er too?

144And Hector laughed.

145At what was all this laughing?

146Marry, at the white hair that Helen spied on Troilus' chin.

147An't had been a green hair, I should have laughed

148too.

149They laughed not so much at the hair as at his pretty answer.

150What was his answer?

151Quoth she, 'Here's but two and fifty hairs on your

152chin, and one of them is white.

153This is her question.

154That's true; make no question of that. 'Two and

155fifty hairs' quoth he, 'and one white: that white

156hair is my father, and all the rest are his sons.'

157'Jupiter!' quoth she, 'which of these hairs is Paris,

158my husband? 'The forked one,' quoth he, 'pluck't

159out, and give it him.' But there was such laughing!

160and Helen so blushed, an Paris so chafed, and all the

161rest so laughed, that it passed.

162So let it now; for it has been while going by.

163Well, cousin. I told you a thing yesterday; think on't.

164So I do.

165I'll be sworn 'tis true; he will weep you, an 'twere

166a man born in April.

167And I'll spring up in his tears, an 'twere a nettle

168against May.

169Hark! they are coming from the field: shall we

170stand up here, and see them as they pass toward

171Ilium? good niece, do, sweet niece Cressida.

172At your pleasure.

173Here, here, here's an excellent place; here we may

174see most bravely: I'll tell you them all by their

175names as they pass by; but mark Troilus above the rest.

176Speak not so loud.

177That's AEneas: is not that a brave man? he's one of

178the flowers of Troy, I can tell you: but mark

179Troilus; you shall see anon.

180Who's that?

181That's Antenor: he has a shrewd wit, I can tell you;

182and he's a man good enough, he's one o' the soundest

183judgments in whosoever, and a proper man of person.

184When comes Troilus? I'll show you Troilus anon: if

185he see me, you shall see him nod at me.

186Will he give you the nod?

187You shall see.

188If he do, the rich shall have more.

189That's Hector, that, that, look you, that; there's a

190fellow! Go thy way, Hector! There's a brave man,

191niece. O brave Hector! Look how he looks! there's

192a countenance! is't not a brave man?

193O, a brave man!

194Is a' not? it does a man's heart good. Look you

195what hacks are on his helmet! look you yonder, do

196you see? look you there: there's no jesting;

197there's laying on, take't off who will, as they say:

198there be hacks!

199Be those with swords?

200Swords! any thing, he cares not; an the devil come

201to him, it's all one: by God's lid, it does one's

202heart good. Yonder comes Paris, yonder comes Paris.

203Look ye yonder, niece; is't not a gallant man too,

204is't not? Why, this is brave now. Who said he came

205hurt home to-day? he's not hurt: why, this will do

206Helen's heart good now, ha! Would I could see

207Troilus now! You shall see Troilus anon.

208Who's that?

209That's Helenus. I marvel where Troilus is. That's

210Helenus. I think he went not forth to-day. That's Helenus.

211Can Helenus fight, uncle?

212Helenus? no. Yes, he'll fight indifferent well. I

213marvel where Troilus is. Hark! do you not hear the

214people cry 'Troilus'? Helenus is a priest.

215What sneaking fellow comes yonder?

216Where? yonder? that's Deiphobus. 'Tis Troilus!

217there's a man, niece! Hem! Brave Troilus! the

218prince of chivalry!

219Peace, for shame, peace!

220Mark him; note him. O brave Troilus! Look well upon

221him, niece: look you how his sword is bloodied, and

222his helm more hacked than Hector's, and how he looks,

223and how he goes! O admirable youth! he ne'er saw

224three and twenty. Go thy way, Troilus, go thy way!

225Had I a sister were a grace, or a daughter a goddess,

226he should take his choice. O admirable man! Paris?

227Paris is dirt to him; and, I warrant, Helen, to

228change, would give an eye to boot.

229Here come more.

230Asses, fools, dolts! chaff and bran, chaff and bran!

231porridge after meat! I could live and die i' the

232eyes of Troilus. Ne'er look, ne'er look: the eagles

233are gone: crows and daws, crows and daws! I had

234rather be such a man as Troilus than Agamemnon and

235all Greece.

236There is among the Greeks Achilles, a better man than Troilus.

237Achilles! a drayman, a porter, a very camel.

238Well, well.

239'Well, well!' why, have you any discretion? have

240you any eyes? Do you know what a man is? Is not

241birth, beauty, good shape, discourse, manhood,

242learning, gentleness, virtue, youth, liberality,

243and such like, the spice and salt that season a man?

244Ay, a minced man: and then to be baked with no date

245in the pie, for then the man's date's out.

246You are such a woman! one knows not at what ward you

247lie.

248Upon my back, to defend my belly; upon my wit, to

249defend my wiles; upon my secrecy, to defend mine

250honesty; my mask, to defend my beauty; and you, to

251defend all these: and at all these wards I lie, at a

252thousand watches.

253Say one of your watches.

254Nay, I'll watch you for that; and that's one of the

255chiefest of them too: if I cannot ward what I would

256not have hit, I can watch you for telling how I took

257the blow; unless it swell past hiding, and then it's

258past watching.

259You are such another!

260Sir, my lord would instantly speak with you.

261Where?

262At your own house; there he unarms him.

263Good boy, tell him I come.

264I doubt he be hurt. Fare ye well, good niece.

265Adieu, uncle.

266I'll be with you, niece, by and by.

267To bring, uncle?

268Ay, a token from Troilus.

269By the same token, you are a bawd.

270Words, vows, gifts, tears, and love's full sacrifice,

271He offers in another's enterprise;

272But more in Troilus thousand fold I see

273Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be;

274Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing:

275Things won are done; joy's soul lies in the doing.

276That she beloved knows nought that knows not this:

277Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is:

278That she was never yet that ever knew

279Love got so sweet as when desire did sue.

280Therefore this maxim out of love I teach:

281Achievement is command; ungain'd, beseech:

282Then though my heart's content firm love doth bear,

283Nothing of that shall from mine eyes appear.

1Princes,

2What grief hath set the jaundice on your cheeks?

3The ample proposition that hope makes

4In all designs begun on earth below

5Fails in the promised largeness: cheques and disasters

6Grow in the veins of actions highest rear'd,

7As knots, by the conflux of meeting sap,

8Infect the sound pine and divert his grain

9Tortive and errant from his course of growth.

10Nor, princes, is it matter new to us

11That we come short of our suppose so far

12That after seven years' siege yet Troy walls stand;

13Sith every action that hath gone before,

14Whereof we have record, trial did draw

15Bias and thwart, not answering the aim,

16And that unbodied figure of the thought

17That gave't surmised shape. Why then, you princes,

18Do you with cheeks abash'd behold our works,

19And call them shames? which are indeed nought else

20But the protractive trials of great Jove

21To find persistive constancy in men:

22The fineness of which metal is not found

23In fortune's love; for then the bold and coward,

24The wise and fool, the artist and unread,

25The hard and soft seem all affined and kin:

26But, in the wind and tempest of her frown,

27Distinction, with a broad and powerful fan,

28Puffing at all, winnows the light away;

29And what hath mass or matter, by itself

30Lies rich in virtue and unmingled.

31With due observance of thy godlike seat,

32Great Agamemnon, Nestor shall apply

33Thy latest words. In the reproof of chance

34Lies the true proof of men: the sea being smooth,

35How many shallow bauble boats dare sail

36Upon her patient breast, making their way

37With those of nobler bulk!

38But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage

39The gentle Thetis, and anon behold

40The strong-ribb'd bark through liquid mountains cut,

41Bounding between the two moist elements,

42Like Perseus' horse: where's then the saucy boat

43Whose weak untimber'd sides but even now

44Co-rivall'd greatness? Either to harbour fled,

45Or made a toast for Neptune. Even so

46Doth valour's show and valour's worth divide

47In storms of fortune; for in her ray and brightness

48The herd hath more annoyance by the breeze

49Than by the tiger; but when the splitting wind

50Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks,

51And flies fled under shade, why, then the thing of courage

52As roused with rage with rage doth sympathize,

53And with an accent tuned in selfsame key

54Retorts to chiding fortune.

55Agamemnon,

56Thou great commander, nerve and bone of Greece,

57Heart of our numbers, soul and only spirit.

58In whom the tempers and the minds of all

59Should be shut up, hear what Ulysses speaks.

60Besides the applause and approbation To which,

61most mighty for thy place and sway,

62And thou most reverend for thy stretch'd-out life

63I give to both your speeches, which were such

64As Agamemnon and the hand of Greece

65Should hold up high in brass, and such again

66As venerable Nestor, hatch'd in silver,

67Should with a bond of air, strong as the axle-tree

68On which heaven rides, knit all the Greekish ears

69To his experienced tongue, yet let it please both,

70Thou great, and wise, to hear Ulysses speak.

71Speak, prince of Ithaca; and be't of less expect

72That matter needless, of importless burden,

73Divide thy lips, than we are confident,

74When rank Thersites opes his mastic jaws,

75We shall hear music, wit and oracle.

76Troy, yet upon his basis, had been down,

77And the great Hector's sword had lack'd a master,

78But for these instances.

79The specialty of rule hath been neglected:

80And, look, how many Grecian tents do stand

81Hollow upon this plain, so many hollow factions.

82When that the general is not like the hive

83To whom the foragers shall all repair,

84What honey is expected? Degree being vizarded,

85The unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask.

86The heavens themselves, the planets and this centre

87Observe degree, priority and place,

88Insisture, course, proportion, season, form,

89Office and custom, in all line of order;

90And therefore is the glorious planet Sol

91In noble eminence enthroned and sphered

92Amidst the other; whose medicinable eye

93Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil,

94And posts, like the commandment of a king,

95Sans cheque to good and bad: but when the planets

96In evil mixture to disorder wander,

97What plagues and what portents! what mutiny!

98What raging of the sea! shaking of earth!

99Commotion in the winds! frights, changes, horrors,

100Divert and crack, rend and deracinate

101The unity and married calm of states

102Quite from their fixure! O, when degree is shaked,

103Which is the ladder to all high designs,

104Then enterprise is sick! How could communities,

105Degrees in schools and brotherhoods in cities,

106Peaceful commerce from dividable shores,

107The primogenitive and due of birth,

108Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels,

109But by degree, stand in authentic place?

110Take but degree away, untune that string,

111And, hark, what discord follows! each thing meets

112In mere oppugnancy: the bounded waters

113Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores

114And make a sop of all this solid globe:

115Strength should be lord of imbecility,

116And the rude son should strike his father dead:

117Force should be right; or rather, right and wrong,

118Between whose endless jar justice resides,

119Should lose their names, and so should justice too.

120Then every thing includes itself in power,

121Power into will, will into appetite;

122And appetite, an universal wolf,

123So doubly seconded with will and power,

124Must make perforce an universal prey,

125And last eat up himself. Great Agamemnon,

126This chaos, when degree is suffocate,

127Follows the choking.

128And this neglection of degree it is

129That by a pace goes backward, with a purpose

130It hath to climb. The general's disdain'd

131By him one step below, he by the next,

132That next by him beneath; so every step,

133Exampled by the first pace that is sick

134Of his superior, grows to an envious fever

135Of pale and bloodless emulation:

136And 'tis this fever that keeps Troy on foot,

137Not her own sinews. To end a tale of length,

138Troy in our weakness stands, not in her strength.

139Most wisely hath Ulysses here discover'd

140The fever whereof all our power is sick.

141The nature of the sickness found, Ulysses,

142What is the remedy?

143The great Achilles, whom opinion crowns

144The sinew and the forehand of our host,

145Having his ear full of his airy fame,

146Grows dainty of his worth, and in his tent

147Lies mocking our designs: with him Patroclus

148Upon a lazy bed the livelong day

149Breaks scurril jests;

150And with ridiculous and awkward action,

151Which, slanderer, he imitation calls,

152He pageants us. Sometime, great Agamemnon,

153Thy topless deputation he puts on,

154And, like a strutting player, whose conceit

155Lies in his hamstring, and doth think it rich

156To hear the wooden dialogue and sound

157'Twixt his stretch'd footing and the scaffoldage,--

158Such to-be-pitied and o'er-wrested seeming

159He acts thy greatness in: and when he speaks,

160'Tis like a chime a-mending; with terms unsquared,

161Which, from the tongue of roaring Typhon dropp'd

162Would seem hyperboles. At this fusty stuff

163The large Achilles, on his press'd bed lolling,

164From his deep chest laughs out a loud applause;

165Cries 'Excellent! 'tis Agamemnon just.

166Now play me Nestor; hem, and stroke thy beard,

167As he being drest to some oration.'

168That's done, as near as the extremest ends

169Of parallels, as like as Vulcan and his wife:

170Yet god Achilles still cries 'Excellent!

171'Tis Nestor right. Now play him me, Patroclus,

172Arming to answer in a night alarm.'

173And then, forsooth, the faint defects of age

174Must be the scene of mirth; to cough and spit,

175And, with a palsy-fumbling on his gorget,

176Shake in and out the rivet: and at this sport

177Sir Valour dies; cries 'O, enough, Patroclus;

178Or give me ribs of steel! I shall split all

179In pleasure of my spleen.' And in this fashion,

180All our abilities, gifts, natures, shapes,

181Severals and generals of grace exact,

182Achievements, plots, orders, preventions,

183Excitements to the field, or speech for truce,

184Success or loss, what is or is not, serves

185As stuff for these two to make paradoxes.

186And in the imitation of these twain--

187Who, as Ulysses says, opinion crowns

188With an imperial voice--many are infect.

189Ajax is grown self-will'd, and bears his head

190In such a rein, in full as proud a place

191As broad Achilles; keeps his tent like him;

192Makes factious feasts; rails on our state of war,

193Bold as an oracle, and sets Thersites,

194A slave whose gall coins slanders like a mint,

195To match us in comparisons with dirt,

196To weaken and discredit our exposure,

197How rank soever rounded in with danger.

198They tax our policy, and call it cowardice,

199Count wisdom as no member of the war,

200Forestall prescience, and esteem no act

201But that of hand: the still and mental parts,

202That do contrive how many hands shall strike,

203When fitness calls them on, and know by measure

204Of their observant toil the enemies' weight,--

205Why, this hath not a finger's dignity:

206They call this bed-work, mappery, closet-war;

207So that the ram that batters down the wall,

208For the great swing and rudeness of his poise,

209They place before his hand that made the engine,

210Or those that with the fineness of their souls

211By reason guide his execution.

212Let this be granted, and Achilles' horse

213Makes many Thetis' sons.

214What trumpet? look, Menelaus.

215From Troy.

216What would you 'fore our tent?

217Is this great Agamemnon's tent, I pray you?

218Even this.

219May one, that is a herald and a prince,

220Do a fair message to his kingly ears?

221With surety stronger than Achilles' arm

222'Fore all the Greekish heads, which with one voice

223Call Agamemnon head and general.

224Fair leave and large security. How may

225A stranger to those most imperial looks

226Know them from eyes of other mortals?

227How!

228Ay;

229I ask, that I might waken reverence,

230And bid the cheek be ready with a blush

231Modest as morning when she coldly eyes

232The youthful Phoebus:

233Which is that god in office, guiding men?

234Which is the high and mighty Agamemnon?

235This Trojan scorns us; or the men of Troy

236Are ceremonious courtiers.

237Courtiers as free, as debonair, unarm'd,

238As bending angels; that's their fame in peace:

239But when they would seem soldiers, they have galls,

240Good arms, strong joints, true swords; and,

241Jove's accord,

242Nothing so full of heart. But peace, AEneas,

243Peace, Trojan; lay thy finger on thy lips!

244The worthiness of praise distains his worth,

245If that the praised himself bring the praise forth:

246But what the repining enemy commends,

247That breath fame blows; that praise, sole sure,

248transcends.

249Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself AEneas?

250Ay, Greek, that is my name.

251What's your affair I pray you?

252Sir, pardon; 'tis for Agamemnon's ears.

253He hears naught privately that comes from Troy.

254Nor I from Troy come not to whisper him:

255I bring a trumpet to awake his ear,

256To set his sense on the attentive bent,

257And then to speak.

258Speak frankly as the wind;

259It is not Agamemnon's sleeping hour:

260That thou shalt know. Trojan, he is awake,

261He tells thee so himself.

262Trumpet, blow loud,

263Send thy brass voice through all these lazy tents;

264And every Greek of mettle, let him know,

265What Troy means fairly shall be spoke aloud.

266We have, great Agamemnon, here in Troy

267A prince call'd Hector,--Priam is his father,--

268Who in this dull and long-continued truce

269Is rusty grown: he bade me take a trumpet,

270And to this purpose speak. Kings, princes, lords!

271If there be one among the fair'st of Greece

272That holds his honour higher than his ease,

273That seeks his praise more than he fears his peril,

274That knows his valour, and knows not his fear,

275That loves his mistress more than in confession,

276With truant vows to her own lips he loves,

277And dare avow her beauty and her worth

278In other arms than hers,--to him this challenge.

279Hector, in view of Trojans and of Greeks,

280Shall make it good, or do his best to do it,

281He hath a lady, wiser, fairer, truer,

282Than ever Greek did compass in his arms,

283And will to-morrow with his trumpet call

284Midway between your tents and walls of Troy,

285To rouse a Grecian that is true in love:

286If any come, Hector shall honour him;

287If none, he'll say in Troy when he retires,

288The Grecian dames are sunburnt and not worth

289The splinter of a lance. Even so much.

290This shall be told our lovers, Lord AEneas;

291If none of them have soul in such a kind,

292We left them all at home: but we are soldiers;

293And may that soldier a mere recreant prove,

294That means not, hath not, or is not in love!

295If then one is, or hath, or means to be,

296That one meets Hector; if none else, I am he.

297Tell him of Nestor, one that was a man

298When Hector's grandsire suck'd: he is old now;

299But if there be not in our Grecian host

300One noble man that hath one spark of fire,

301To answer for his love, tell him from me

302I'll hide my silver beard in a gold beaver

303And in my vantbrace put this wither'd brawn,

304And meeting him will tell him that my lady

305Was fairer than his grandam and as chaste

306As may be in the world: his youth in flood,

307I'll prove this truth with my three drops of blood.

308Now heavens forbid such scarcity of youth!

309Amen.

310Fair Lord AEneas, let me touch your hand;

311To our pavilion shall I lead you, sir.

312Achilles shall have word of this intent;

313So shall each lord of Greece, from tent to tent:

314Yourself shall feast with us before you go

315And find the welcome of a noble foe.

316Nestor!

317What says Ulysses?

318I have a young conception in my brain;

319Be you my time to bring it to some shape.

320What is't?

321This 'tis:

322Blunt wedges rive hard knots: the seeded pride

323That hath to this maturity blown up

324In rank Achilles must or now be cropp'd,

325Or, shedding, breed a nursery of like evil,

326To overbulk us all.

327Well, and how?

328This challenge that the gallant Hector sends,

329However it is spread in general name,

330Relates in purpose only to Achilles.

331The purpose is perspicuous even as substance,

332Whose grossness little characters sum up:

333And, in the publication, make no strain,

334But that Achilles, were his brain as barren

335As banks of Libya,--though, Apollo knows,

336'Tis dry enough,--will, with great speed of judgment,

337Ay, with celerity, find Hector's purpose

338Pointing on him.

339And wake him to the answer, think you?

340Yes, 'tis most meet: whom may you else oppose,

341That can from Hector bring his honour off,

342If not Achilles? Though't be a sportful combat,

343Yet in the trial much opinion dwells;

344For here the Trojans taste our dear'st repute

345With their finest palate: and trust to me, Ulysses,

346Our imputation shall be oddly poised

347In this wild action; for the success,

348Although particular, shall give a scantling

349Of good or bad unto the general;

350And in such indexes, although small pricks

351To their subsequent volumes, there is seen

352The baby figure of the giant mass

353Of things to come at large. It is supposed

354He that meets Hector issues from our choice

355And choice, being mutual act of all our souls,

356Makes merit her election, and doth boil,

357As 'twere from us all, a man distill'd

358Out of our virtues; who miscarrying,

359What heart receives from hence the conquering part,

360To steel a strong opinion to themselves?

361Which entertain'd, limbs are his instruments,

362In no less working than are swords and bows

363Directive by the limbs.

364Give pardon to my speech:

365Therefore 'tis meet Achilles meet not Hector.

366Let us, like merchants, show our foulest wares,

367And think, perchance, they'll sell; if not,

368The lustre of the better yet to show,

369Shall show the better. Do not consent

370That ever Hector and Achilles meet;

371For both our honour and our shame in this

372Are dogg'd with two strange followers.

373I see them not with my old eyes: what are they?

374What glory our Achilles shares from Hector,

375Were he not proud, we all should share with him:

376But he already is too insolent;

377A nd we were better parch in Afric sun

378Than in the pride and salt scorn of his eyes,

379Should he 'scape Hector fair: if he were foil'd,

380Why then, we did our main opinion crush

381In taint of our best man. No, make a lottery;

382And, by device, let blockish Ajax draw

383The sort to fight with Hector: among ourselves

384Give him allowance for the better man;

385For that will physic the great Myrmidon

386Who broils in loud applause, and make him fall

387His crest that prouder than blue Iris bends.

388If the dull brainless Ajax come safe off,

389We'll dress him up in voices: if he fail,

390Yet go we under our opinion still

391That we have better men. But, hit or miss,

392Our project's life this shape of sense assumes:

393Ajax employ'd plucks down Achilles' plumes.

394Ulysses,

395Now I begin to relish thy advice;

396And I will give a taste of it forthwith

397To Agamemnon: go we to him straight.

398Two curs shall tame each other: pride alone

399Must tarre the mastiffs on, as 'twere their bone.

1Thersites!

2Agamemnon, how if he had boils? full, all over,

3generally?

4Thersites!

5And those boils did run? say so: did not the

6general run then? were not that a botchy core?

7Dog!

8Then would come some matter from him; I see none now.

9Thou bitch-wolf's son, canst thou not hear?

10Feel, then.

11The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel

12beef-witted lord!

13Speak then, thou vinewedst leaven, speak: I will

14beat thee into handsomeness.

15I shall sooner rail thee into wit and holiness: but,

16I think, thy horse will sooner con an oration than

17thou learn a prayer without book. Thou canst strike,

18canst thou? a red murrain o' thy jade's tricks!

19Toadstool, learn me the proclamation.

20Dost thou think I have no sense, thou strikest me thus?

21The proclamation!

22Thou art proclaimed a fool, I think.

23Do not, porpentine, do not: my fingers itch.

24I would thou didst itch from head to foot and I had

25the scratching of thee; I would make thee the

26loathsomest scab in Greece. When thou art forth in

27the incursions, thou strikest as slow as another.

28I say, the proclamation!

29Thou grumblest and railest every hour on Achilles,

30and thou art as full of envy at his greatness as

31Cerberus is at Proserpine's beauty, ay, that thou

32barkest at him.

33Mistress Thersites!

34Thou shouldest strike him.

35Cobloaf!

36He would pun thee into shivers with his fist, as a

37sailor breaks a biscuit.

38[Beating him] You whoreson cur!

39Do, do.

40Thou stool for a witch!

41Ay, do, do; thou sodden-witted lord! thou hast no

42more brain than I have in mine elbows; an assinego

43may tutor thee: thou scurvy-valiant ass! thou art

44here but to thrash Trojans; and thou art bought and

45sold among those of any wit, like a barbarian slave.

46If thou use to beat me, I will begin at thy heel, and

47tell what thou art by inches, thou thing of no

48bowels, thou!

49You dog!

50You scurvy lord!

51[Beating him] You cur!

52Mars his idiot! do, rudeness; do, camel; do, do.

53Why, how now, Ajax! wherefore do you thus? How now,

54Thersites! what's the matter, man?

55You see him there, do you?

56Ay; what's the matter?

57Nay, look upon him.

58So I do: what's the matter?

59Nay, but regard him well.

60'Well!' why, I do so.

61But yet you look not well upon him; for whosoever you

62take him to be, he is Ajax.

63I know that, fool.

64Ay, but that fool knows not himself.

65Therefore I beat thee.

66Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters! his

67evasions have ears thus long. I have bobbed his

68brain more than he has beat my bones: I will buy

69nine sparrows for a penny, and his pia mater is not

70worth the nineth part of a sparrow. This lord,

71Achilles, Ajax, who wears his wit in his belly and

72his guts in his head, I'll tell you what I say of

73him.

74What?

75I say, this Ajax--

76Nay, good Ajax.

77Has not so much wit--

78Nay, I must hold you.

79As will stop the eye of Helen's needle, for whom he

80comes to fight.

81Peace, fool!

82I would have peace and quietness, but the fool will

83not: he there: that he: look you there.

84O thou damned cur! I shall--

85Will you set your wit to a fool's?

86No, I warrant you; for a fools will shame it.

87Good words, Thersites.

88What's the quarrel?

89I bade the vile owl go learn me the tenor of the

90proclamation, and he rails upon me.

91I serve thee not.

92Well, go to, go to.

93I serve here voluntarily.

94Your last service was sufferance, 'twas not

95voluntary: no man is beaten voluntary: Ajax was

96here the voluntary, and you as under an impress.

97E'en so; a great deal of your wit, too, lies in your

98sinews, or else there be liars. Hector have a great

99catch, if he knock out either of your brains: a'

100were as good crack a fusty nut with no kernel.

101What, with me too, Thersites?

102There's Ulysses and old Nestor, whose wit was mouldy

103ere your grandsires had nails on their toes, yoke you

104like draught-oxen and make you plough up the wars.

105What, what?

106Yes, good sooth: to, Achilles! to, Ajax! to!

107I shall cut out your tongue.

108'Tis no matter! I shall speak as much as thou

109afterwards.

110No more words, Thersites; peace!

111I will hold my peace when Achilles' brach bids me, shall I?

112There's for you, Patroclus.

113I will see you hanged, like clotpoles, ere I come

114any more to your tents: I will keep where there is

115wit stirring and leave the faction of fools.

116A good riddance.

117Marry, this, sir, is proclaim'd through all our host:

118That Hector, by the fifth hour of the sun,

119Will with a trumpet 'twixt our tents and Troy

120To-morrow morning call some knight to arms

121That hath a stomach; and such a one that dare

122Maintain--I know not what: 'tis trash. Farewell.

123Farewell. Who shall answer him?

124I know not: 'tis put to lottery; otherwise

125He knew his man.

126O, meaning you. I will go learn more of it.

1After so many hours, lives, speeches spent,

2Thus once again says Nestor from the Greeks:

3'Deliver Helen, and all damage else--

4As honour, loss of time, travail, expense,

5Wounds, friends, and what else dear that is consumed

6In hot digestion of this cormorant war--

7Shall be struck off.' Hector, what say you to't?

8Though no man lesser fears the Greeks than I

9As far as toucheth my particular,

10Yet, dread Priam,

11There is no lady of more softer bowels,

12More spongy to suck in the sense of fear,

13More ready to cry out 'Who knows what follows?'

14Than Hector is: the wound of peace is surety,

15Surety secure; but modest doubt is call'd

16The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches

17To the bottom of the worst. Let Helen go:

18Since the first sword was drawn about this question,

19Every tithe soul, 'mongst many thousand dismes,

20Hath been as dear as Helen; I mean, of ours:

21If we have lost so many tenths of ours,

22To guard a thing not ours nor worth to us,

23Had it our name, the value of one ten,

24What merit's in that reason which denies

25The yielding of her up?

26Fie, fie, my brother!

27Weigh you the worth and honour of a king

28So great as our dread father in a scale

29Of common ounces? will you with counters sum

30The past proportion of his infinite?

31And buckle in a waist most fathomless

32With spans and inches so diminutive

33As fears and reasons? fie, for godly shame!

34No marvel, though you bite so sharp at reasons,

35You are so empty of them. Should not our father

36Bear the great sway of his affairs with reasons,

37Because your speech hath none that tells him so?

38You are for dreams and slumbers, brother priest;

39You fur your gloves with reason. Here are

40your reasons:

41You know an enemy intends you harm;

42You know a sword employ'd is perilous,

43And reason flies the object of all harm:

44Who marvels then, when Helenus beholds

45A Grecian and his sword, if he do set

46The very wings of reason to his heels

47And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove,

48Or like a star disorb'd? Nay, if we talk of reason,

49Let's shut our gates and sleep: manhood and honour

50Should have hare-hearts, would they but fat

51their thoughts

52With this cramm'd reason: reason and respect

53Make livers pale and lustihood deject.

54Brother, she is not worth what she doth cost

55The holding.

56What is aught, but as 'tis valued?

57But value dwells not in particular will;

58It holds his estimate and dignity

59As well wherein 'tis precious of itself

60As in the prizer: 'tis mad idolatry

61To make the service greater than the god

62And the will dotes that is attributive

63To what infectiously itself affects,

64Without some image of the affected merit.

65I take to-day a wife, and my election

66Is led on in the conduct of my will;

67My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears,

68Two traded pilots 'twixt the dangerous shores

69Of will and judgment: how may I avoid,

70Although my will distaste what it elected,

71The wife I chose? there can be no evasion

72To blench from this and to stand firm by honour:

73We turn not back the silks upon the merchant,

74When we have soil'd them, nor the remainder viands

75We do not throw in unrespective sieve,

76Because we now are full. It was thought meet

77Paris should do some vengeance on the Greeks:

78Your breath of full consent bellied his sails;

79The seas and winds, old wranglers, took a truce

80And did him service: he touch'd the ports desired,

81And for an old aunt whom the Greeks held captive,

82He brought a Grecian queen, whose youth and freshness

83Wrinkles Apollo's, and makes stale the morning.

84Why keep we her? the Grecians keep our aunt:

85Is she worth keeping? why, she is a pearl,

86Whose price hath launch'd above a thousand ships,

87And turn'd crown'd kings to merchants.

88If you'll avouch 'twas wisdom Paris went--

89As you must needs, for you all cried 'Go, go,'--

90If you'll confess he brought home noble prize--

91As you must needs, for you all clapp'd your hands

92And cried 'Inestimable!'--why do you now

93The issue of your proper wisdoms rate,

94And do a deed that fortune never did,

95Beggar the estimation which you prized

96Richer than sea and land? O, theft most base,

97That we have stol'n what we do fear to keep!

98But, thieves, unworthy of a thing so stol'n,

99That in their country did them that disgrace,

100We fear to warrant in our native place!

101[Within] Cry, Trojans, cry!

102What noise? what shriek is this?

103'Tis our mad sister, I do know her voice.

104[Within] Cry, Trojans!

105It is Cassandra.

106Cry, Trojans, cry! lend me ten thousand eyes,

107And I will fill them with prophetic tears.

108Peace, sister, peace!

109Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled eld,

110Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry,

111Add to my clamours! let us pay betimes

112A moiety of that mass of moan to come.

113Cry, Trojans, cry! practise your eyes with tears!

114Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand;

115Our firebrand brother, Paris, burns us all.

116Cry, Trojans, cry! a Helen and a woe:

117Cry, cry! Troy burns, or else let Helen go.

118Now, youthful Troilus, do not these high strains

119Of divination in our sister work

120Some touches of remorse? or is your blood

121So madly hot that no discourse of reason,

122Nor fear of bad success in a bad cause,

123Can qualify the same?

124Why, brother Hector,

125We may not think the justness of each act

126Such and no other than event doth form it,

127Nor once deject the courage of our minds,

128Because Cassandra's mad: her brain-sick raptures

129Cannot distaste the goodness of a quarrel

130Which hath our several honours all engaged

131To make it gracious. For my private part,

132I am no more touch'd than all Priam's sons:

133And Jove forbid there should be done amongst us

134Such things as might offend the weakest spleen

135To fight for and maintain!

136Else might the world convince of levity

137As well my undertakings as your counsels:

138But I attest the gods, your full consent

139Gave wings to my propension and cut off

140All fears attending on so dire a project.

141For what, alas, can these my single arms?

142What Propugnation is in one man's valour,

143To stand the push and enmity of those

144This quarrel would excite? Yet, I protest,

145Were I alone to pass the difficulties

146And had as ample power as I have will,

147Paris should ne'er retract what he hath done,

148Nor faint in the pursuit.

149Paris, you speak

150Like one besotted on your sweet delights:

151You have the honey still, but these the gall;

152So to be valiant is no praise at all.

153Sir, I propose not merely to myself

154The pleasures such a beauty brings with it;

155But I would have the soil of her fair rape

156Wiped off, in honourable keeping her.

157What treason were it to the ransack'd queen,

158Disgrace to your great worths and shame to me,

159Now to deliver her possession up

160On terms of base compulsion! Can it be

161That so degenerate a strain as this

162Should once set footing in your generous bosoms?

163There's not the meanest spirit on our party

164Without a heart to dare or sword to draw

165When Helen is defended, nor none so noble

166Whose life were ill bestow'd or death unfamed

167Where Helen is the subject; then, I say,

168Well may we fight for her whom, we know well,

169The world's large spaces cannot parallel.

170Paris and Troilus, you have both said well,

171And on the cause and question now in hand

172Have glozed, but superficially: not much

173Unlike young men, whom Aristotle thought

174Unfit to hear moral philosophy:

175The reasons you allege do more conduce

176To the hot passion of distemper'd blood

177Than to make up a free determination

178'Twixt right and wrong, for pleasure and revenge

179Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice

180Of any true decision. Nature craves

181All dues be render'd to their owners: now,

182What nearer debt in all humanity

183Than wife is to the husband? If this law

184Of nature be corrupted through affection,

185And that great minds, of partial indulgence

186To their benumbed wills, resist the same,

187There is a law in each well-order'd nation

188To curb those raging appetites that are

189Most disobedient and refractory.

190If Helen then be wife to Sparta's king,

191As it is known she is, these moral laws

192Of nature and of nations speak aloud

193To have her back return'd: thus to persist

194In doing wrong extenuates not wrong,

195But makes it much more heavy. Hector's opinion

196Is this in way of truth; yet ne'ertheless,

197My spritely brethren, I propend to you

198In resolution to keep Helen still,

199For 'tis a cause that hath no mean dependance

200Upon our joint and several dignities.

201Why, there you touch'd the life of our design:

202Were it not glory that we more affected

203Than the performance of our heaving spleens,

204I would not wish a drop of Trojan blood

205Spent more in her defence. But, worthy Hector,

206She is a theme of honour and renown,

207A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds,

208Whose present courage may beat down our foes,

209And fame in time to come canonize us;

210For, I presume, brave Hector would not lose

211So rich advantage of a promised glory

212As smiles upon the forehead of this action

213For the wide world's revenue.

214I am yours,

215You valiant offspring of great Priamus.

216I have a roisting challenge sent amongst

217The dun and factious nobles of the Greeks

218Will strike amazement to their drowsy spirits:

219I was advertised their great general slept,

220Whilst emulation in the army crept:

221This, I presume, will wake him.

1How now, Thersites! what lost in the labyrinth of

2thy fury! Shall the elephant Ajax carry it thus? He

3beats me, and I rail at him: O, worthy satisfaction!

4would it were otherwise; that I could beat him,

5whilst he railed at me. 'Sfoot, I'll learn to

6conjure and raise devils, but I'll see some issue of

7my spiteful execrations. Then there's Achilles, a

8rare enginer! If Troy be not taken till these two

9undermine it, the walls will stand till they fall of

10themselves. O thou great thunder-darter of Olympus,

11forget that thou art Jove, the king of gods and,

12Mercury, lose all the serpentine craft of thy

13caduceus, if ye take not that little, little less

14than little wit from them that they have! which

15short-armed ignorance itself knows is so abundant

16scarce, it will not in circumvention deliver a fly

17from a spider, without drawing their massy irons and

18cutting the web. After this, the vengeance on the

19whole camp! or rather, the bone-ache! for that,

20methinks, is the curse dependent on those that war

21for a placket. I have said my prayers and devil Envy

22say Amen. What ho! my Lord Achilles!

23Who's there? Thersites! Good Thersites, come in and rail.

24If I could have remembered a gilt counterfeit, thou

25wouldst not have slipped out of my contemplation: but

26it is no matter; thyself upon thyself! The common

27curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in

28great revenue! heaven bless thee from a tutor, and

29discipline come not near thee! Let thy blood be thy

30direction till thy death! then if she that lays thee

31out says thou art a fair corse, I'll be sworn and

32sworn upon't she never shrouded any but lazars.

33Amen. Where's Achilles?

34What, art thou devout? wast thou in prayer?

35Ay: the heavens hear me!

36Who's there?

37Thersites, my lord.

38Where, where? Art thou come? why, my cheese, my

39digestion, why hast thou not served thyself in to

40my table so many meals? Come, what's Agamemnon?

41Thy commander, Achilles. Then tell me, Patroclus,

42what's Achilles?

43Thy lord, Thersites: then tell me, I pray thee,

44what's thyself?

45Thy knower, Patroclus: then tell me, Patroclus,

46what art thou?

47Thou mayst tell that knowest.

48O, tell, tell.

49I'll decline the whole question. Agamemnon commands

50Achilles; Achilles is my lord; I am Patroclus'

51knower, and Patroclus is a fool.

52You rascal!

53Peace, fool! I have not done.

54He is a privileged man. Proceed, Thersites.

55Agamemnon is a fool; Achilles is a fool; Thersites

56is a fool, and, as aforesaid, Patroclus is a fool.

57Derive this; come.

58Agamemnon is a fool to offer to command Achilles;

59Achilles is a fool to be commanded of Agamemnon;

60Thersites is a fool to serve such a fool, and

61Patroclus is a fool positive.

62Why am I a fool?

63Make that demand of the prover. It suffices me thou

64art. Look you, who comes here?

65Patroclus, I'll speak with nobody.

66Come in with me, Thersites.

67Here is such patchery, such juggling and such

68knavery! all the argument is a cuckold and a

69whore; a good quarrel to draw emulous factions

70and bleed to death upon. Now, the dry serpigo on

71the subject! and war and lechery confound all!

72Where is Achilles?

73Within his tent; but ill disposed, my lord.

74Let it be known to him that we are here.

75He shent our messengers; and we lay by

76Our appertainments, visiting of him:

77Let him be told so; lest perchance he think

78We dare not move the question of our place,

79Or know not what we are.

80I shall say so to him.

81We saw him at the opening of his tent:

82He is not sick.

83Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart: you may call it

84melancholy, if you will favour the man; but, by my

85head, 'tis pride: but why, why? let him show us the

86cause. A word, my lord.

87What moves Ajax thus to bay at him?

88Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him.

89Who, Thersites?

90He.

91Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost his argument.

92No, you see, he is his argument that has his

93argument, Achilles.

94All the better; their fraction is more our wish than

95their faction: but it was a strong composure a fool

96could disunite.

97The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily

98untie. Here comes Patroclus.

99No Achilles with him.

100The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy:

101his legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure.

102Achilles bids me say, he is much sorry,

103If any thing more than your sport and pleasure

104Did move your greatness and this noble state

105To call upon him; he hopes it is no other

106But for your health and your digestion sake,

107And after-dinner's breath.

108Hear you, Patroclus:

109We are too well acquainted with these answers:

110But his evasion, wing'd thus swift with scorn,

111Cannot outfly our apprehensions.

112Much attribute he hath, and much the reason

113Why we ascribe it to him; yet all his virtues,

114Not virtuously on his own part beheld,

115Do in our eyes begin to lose their gloss,

116Yea, like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish,

117Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell him,

118We come to speak with him; and you shall not sin,

119If you do say we think him over-proud

120And under-honest, in self-assumption greater

121Than in the note of judgment; and worthier

122than himself

123Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on,

124Disguise the holy strength of their command,

125And underwrite in an observing kind

126His humorous predominance; yea, watch

127His pettish lunes, his ebbs, his flows, as if

128The passage and whole carriage of this action

129Rode on his tide. Go tell him this, and add,

130That if he overhold his price so much,

131We'll none of him; but let him, like an engine

132Not portable, lie under this report:

133'Bring action hither, this cannot go to war:

134A stirring dwarf we do allowance give

135Before a sleeping giant.' Tell him so.

136I shall; and bring his answer presently.

137In second voice we'll not be satisfied;

138We come to speak with him. Ulysses, enter you.

139What is he more than another?

140No more than what he thinks he is.

141Is he so much? Do you not think he thinks himself a

142better man than I am?

143No question.

144Will you subscribe his thought, and say he is?

145No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as valiant, as

146wise, no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether

147more tractable.

148Why should a man be proud? How doth pride grow? I

149know not what pride is.

150Your mind is the clearer, Ajax, and your virtues the

151fairer. He that is proud eats up himself: pride is

152his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle;

153and whatever praises itself but in the deed, devours

154the deed in the praise.

155I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendering of toads.

156Yet he loves himself: is't not strange?

157Achilles will not to the field to-morrow.

158What's his excuse?

159He doth rely on none,

160But carries on the stream of his dispose

161Without observance or respect of any,

162In will peculiar and in self-admission.

163Why will he not upon our fair request

164Untent his person and share the air with us?

165Things small as nothing, for request's sake only,

166He makes important: possess'd he is with greatness,

167And speaks not to himself but with a pride

168That quarrels at self-breath: imagined worth

169Holds in his blood such swoln and hot discourse

170That 'twixt his mental and his active parts

171Kingdom'd Achilles in commotion rages

172And batters down himself: what should I say?

173He is so plaguy proud that the death-tokens of it

174Cry 'No recovery.'

175Let Ajax go to him.

176Dear lord, go you and greet him in his tent:

177'Tis said he holds you well, and will be led

178At your request a little from himself.

179O Agamemnon, let it not be so!

180We'll consecrate the steps that Ajax makes

181When they go from Achilles: shall the proud lord

182That bastes his arrogance with his own seam

183And never suffers matter of the world

184Enter his thoughts, save such as do revolve

185And ruminate himself, shall he be worshipp'd

186Of that we hold an idol more than he?

187No, this thrice worthy and right valiant lord

188Must not so stale his palm, nobly acquired;

189Nor, by my will, assubjugate his merit,

190As amply titled as Achilles is,

191By going to Achilles:

192That were to enlard his fat already pride

193And add more coals to Cancer when he burns

194With entertaining great Hyperion.

195This lord go to him! Jupiter forbid,

196And say in thunder 'Achilles go to him.'

197[Aside to DIOMEDES] O, this is well; he rubs the

198vein of him.

199[Aside to NESTOR] And how his silence drinks up

200this applause!

201If I go to him, with my armed fist I'll pash him o'er the face.

202O, no, you shall not go.

203An a' be proud with me, I'll pheeze his pride:

204Let me go to him.

205Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.

206A paltry, insolent fellow!

207How he describes himself!

208Can he not be sociable?

209The raven chides blackness.

210I'll let his humours blood.

211He will be the physician that should be the patient.

212An all men were o' my mind,--

213Wit would be out of fashion.

214A' should not bear it so, a' should eat swords first:

215shall pride carry it?

216An 'twould, you'ld carry half.

217A' would have ten shares.

218I will knead him; I'll make him supple.

219He's not yet through warm: force him with praises:

220pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry.

221[To AGAMEMNON] My lord, you feed too much on this dislike.

222Our noble general, do not do so.

223You must prepare to fight without Achilles.

224Why, 'tis this naming of him does him harm.

225Here is a man--but 'tis before his face;

226I will be silent.

227Wherefore should you so?

228He is not emulous, as Achilles is.

229Know the whole world, he is as valiant.

230A whoreson dog, that shall pelter thus with us!

231Would he were a Trojan!

232What a vice were it in Ajax now,--

233If he were proud,--

234Or covetous of praise,--

235Ay, or surly borne,--

236Or strange, or self-affected!

237Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet composure;

238Praise him that got thee, she that gave thee suck:

239Famed be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature

240Thrice famed, beyond all erudition:

241But he that disciplined thy arms to fight,

242Let Mars divide eternity in twain,

243And give him half: and, for thy vigour,

244Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield

245To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom,

246Which, like a bourn, a pale, a shore, confines

247Thy spacious and dilated parts: here's Nestor;

248Instructed by the antiquary times,

249He must, he is, he cannot but be wise:

250Put pardon, father Nestor, were your days

251As green as Ajax' and your brain so temper'd,

252You should not have the eminence of him,

253But be as Ajax.

254Shall I call you father?

255Ay, my good son.

256Be ruled by him, Lord Ajax.

257There is no tarrying here; the hart Achilles

258Keeps thicket. Please it our great general

259To call together all his state of war;

260Fresh kings are come to Troy: to-morrow

261We must with all our main of power stand fast:

262And here's a lord,--come knights from east to west,

263And cull their flower, Ajax shall cope the best.

264Go we to council. Let Achilles sleep:

265Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw deep.

1Friend, you! pray you, a word: do not you follow

2the young Lord Paris?

3Ay, sir, when he goes before me.

4You depend upon him, I mean?

5Sir, I do depend upon the lord.

6You depend upon a noble gentleman; I must needs

7praise him.

8The lord be praised!

9You know me, do you not?

10Faith, sir, superficially.

11Friend, know me better; I am the Lord Pandarus.

12I hope I shall know your honour better.

13I do desire it.

14You are in the state of grace.

15Grace! not so, friend: honour and lordship are my titles.

16What music is this?

17I do but partly know, sir: it is music in parts.

18Know you the musicians?

19Wholly, sir.

20Who play they to?

21To the hearers, sir.

22At whose pleasure, friend

23At mine, sir, and theirs that love music.

24Command, I mean, friend.

25Who shall I command, sir?

26Friend, we understand not one another: I am too

27courtly and thou art too cunning. At whose request

28do these men play?

29That's to 't indeed, sir: marry, sir, at the request

30of Paris my lord, who's there in person; with him,

31the mortal Venus, the heart-blood of beauty, love's

32invisible soul,--

33Who, my cousin Cressida?

34No, sir, Helen: could you not find out that by her

35attributes?

36It should seem, fellow, that thou hast not seen the

37Lady Cressida. I come to speak with Paris from the

38Prince Troilus: I will make a complimental assault

39upon him, for my business seethes.

40Sodden business! there's a stewed phrase indeed!

41Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair

42company! fair desires, in all fair measure,

43fairly guide them! especially to you, fair queen!

44fair thoughts be your fair pillow!

45Dear lord, you are full of fair words.

46You speak your fair pleasure, sweet queen. Fair

47prince, here is good broken music.

48You have broke it, cousin: and, by my life, you

49shall make it whole again; you shall piece it out

50with a piece of your performance. Nell, he is full

51of harmony.

52Truly, lady, no.

53O, sir,--

54Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude.

55Well said, my lord! well, you say so in fits.

56I have business to my lord, dear queen. My lord,

57will you vouchsafe me a word?

58Nay, this shall not hedge us out: we'll hear you

59sing, certainly.

60Well, sweet queen. you are pleasant with me. But,

61marry, thus, my lord: my dear lord and most esteemed

62friend, your brother Troilus,--

63My Lord Pandarus; honey-sweet lord,--

64Go to, sweet queen, to go:--commends himself most

65affectionately to you,--

66You shall not bob us out of our melody: if you do,

67our melancholy upon your head!

68Sweet queen, sweet queen! that's a sweet queen, i' faith.

69And to make a sweet lady sad is a sour offence.

70Nay, that shall not serve your turn; that shall not,

71in truth, la. Nay, I care not for such words; no,

72no. And, my lord, he desires you, that if the king

73call for him at supper, you will make his excuse.

74My Lord Pandarus,--

75What says my sweet queen, my very very sweet queen?

76What exploit's in hand? where sups he to-night?

77Nay, but, my lord,--

78What says my sweet queen? My cousin will fall out

79with you. You must not know where he sups.

80I'll lay my life, with my disposer Cressida.

81No, no, no such matter; you are wide: come, your

82disposer is sick.

83Well, I'll make excuse.

84Ay, good my lord. Why should you say Cressida? no,

85your poor disposer's sick.

86I spy.

87You spy! what do you spy? Come, give me an

88instrument. Now, sweet queen.

89Why, this is kindly done.

90My niece is horribly in love with a thing you have,

91sweet queen.

92She shall have it, my lord, if it be not my lord Paris.

93He! no, she'll none of him; they two are twain.

94Falling in, after falling out, may make them three.

95Come, come, I'll hear no more of this; I'll sing

96you a song now.

97Ay, ay, prithee now. By my troth, sweet lord, thou

98hast a fine forehead.

99Ay, you may, you may.

100Let thy song be love: this love will undo us all.

101O Cupid, Cupid, Cupid!

102Love! ay, that it shall, i' faith.

103Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but love.

104In good troth, it begins so.

105Love, love, nothing but love, still more!

106For, O, love's bow

107Shoots buck and doe:

108The shaft confounds,

109Not that it wounds,

110But tickles still the sore.

111These lovers cry Oh! oh! they die!

112Yet that which seems the wound to kill,

113Doth turn oh! oh! to ha! ha! he!

114So dying love lives still:

115Oh! oh! a while, but ha! ha! ha!

116Oh! oh! groans out for ha! ha! ha!

117Heigh-ho!

118In love, i' faith, to the very tip of the nose.

119He eats nothing but doves, love, and that breeds hot

120blood, and hot blood begets hot thoughts, and hot

121thoughts beget hot deeds, and hot deeds is love.

122Is this the generation of love? hot blood, hot

123thoughts, and hot deeds? Why, they are vipers:

124is love a generation of vipers? Sweet lord, who's

125a-field to-day?

126Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the

127gallantry of Troy: I would fain have armed to-day,

128but my Nell would not have it so. How chance my

129brother Troilus went not?

130He hangs the lip at something: you know all, Lord Pandarus.

131Not I, honey-sweet queen. I long to hear how they

132sped to-day. You'll remember your brother's excuse?

133To a hair.

134Farewell, sweet queen.

135Commend me to your niece.

136I will, sweet queen.

137They're come from field: let us to Priam's hall,

138To greet the warriors. Sweet Helen, I must woo you

139To help unarm our Hector: his stubborn buckles,

140With these your white enchanting fingers touch'd,

141Shall more obey than to the edge of steel

142Or force of Greekish sinews; you shall do more

143Than all the island kings,--disarm great Hector.

144'Twill make us proud to be his servant, Paris;

145Yea, what he shall receive of us in duty

146Gives us more palm in beauty than we have,

147Yea, overshines ourself.

148Sweet, above thought I love thee.

1How now! where's thy master? at my cousin

2Cressida's?

3No, sir; he stays for you to conduct him thither.

4O, here he comes.

5How now, how now!

6Sirrah, walk off.

7Have you seen my cousin?

8No, Pandarus: I stalk about her door,

9Like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks

10Staying for waftage. O, be thou my Charon,

11And give me swift transportance to those fields

12Where I may wallow in the lily-beds

13Proposed for the deserver! O gentle Pandarus,

14From Cupid's shoulder pluck his painted wings

15And fly with me to Cressid!

16Walk here i' the orchard, I'll bring her straight.

17I am giddy; expectation whirls me round.

18The imaginary relish is so sweet

19That it enchants my sense: what will it be,

20When that the watery palate tastes indeed

21Love's thrice repured nectar? death, I fear me,

22Swooning destruction, or some joy too fine,

23Too subtle-potent, tuned too sharp in sweetness,

24For the capacity of my ruder powers:

25I fear it much; and I do fear besides,

26That I shall lose distinction in my joys;

27As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps

28The enemy flying.

29She's making her ready, she'll come straight: you

30must be witty now. She does so blush, and fetches

31her wind so short, as if she were frayed with a

32sprite: I'll fetch her. It is the prettiest

33villain: she fetches her breath as short as a

34new-ta'en sparrow.

35Even such a passion doth embrace my bosom:

36My heart beats thicker than a feverous pulse;

37And all my powers do their bestowing lose,

38Like vassalage at unawares encountering

39The eye of majesty.

40Come, come, what need you blush? shame's a baby.

41Here she is now: swear the oaths now to her that

42you have sworn to me. What, are you gone again?

43you must be watched ere you be made tame, must you?

44Come your ways, come your ways; an you draw backward,

45we'll put you i' the fills. Why do you not speak to

46her? Come, draw this curtain, and let's see your

47picture. Alas the day, how loath you are to offend

48daylight! an 'twere dark, you'ld close sooner.

49So, so; rub on, and kiss the mistress. How now!

50a kiss in fee-farm! build there, carpenter; the air

51is sweet. Nay, you shall fight your hearts out ere

52I part you. The falcon as the tercel, for all the

53ducks i' the river: go to, go to.

54You have bereft me of all words, lady.

55Words pay no debts, give her deeds: but she'll

56bereave you o' the deeds too, if she call your

57activity in question. What, billing again? Here's

58'In witness whereof the parties interchangeably'--

59Come in, come in: I'll go get a fire.

60Will you walk in, my lord?

61O Cressida, how often have I wished me thus!

62Wished, my lord! The gods grant,--O my lord!

63What should they grant? what makes this pretty

64abruption? What too curious dreg espies my sweet

65lady in the fountain of our love?

66More dregs than water, if my fears have eyes.

67Fears make devils of cherubims; they never see truly.

68Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds safer

69footing than blind reason stumbling without fear: to

70fear the worst oft cures the worse.

71O, let my lady apprehend no fear: in all Cupid's

72pageant there is presented no monster.

73Nor nothing monstrous neither?

74Nothing, but our undertakings; when we vow to weep

75seas, live in fire, eat rocks, tame tigers; thinking

76it harder for our mistress to devise imposition

77enough than for us to undergo any difficulty imposed.

78This is the monstruosity in love, lady, that the will

79is infinite and the execution confined, that the

80desire is boundless and the act a slave to limit.

81They say all lovers swear more performance than they

82are able and yet reserve an ability that they never

83perform, vowing more than the perfection of ten and

84discharging less than the tenth part of one. They

85that have the voice of lions and the act of hares,

86are they not monsters?

87Are there such? such are not we: praise us as we

88are tasted, allow us as we prove; our head shall go

89bare till merit crown it: no perfection in reversion

90shall have a praise in present: we will not name

91desert before his birth, and, being born, his addition

92shall be humble. Few words to fair faith: Troilus

93shall be such to Cressid as what envy can say worst

94shall be a mock for his truth, and what truth can

95speak truest not truer than Troilus.

96Will you walk in, my lord?

97What, blushing still? have you not done talking yet?

98Well, uncle, what folly I commit, I dedicate to you.

99I thank you for that: if my lord get a boy of you,

100you'll give him me. Be true to my lord: if he

101flinch, chide me for it.

102You know now your hostages; your uncle's word and my

103firm faith.

104Nay, I'll give my word for her too: our kindred,

105though they be long ere they are wooed, they are

106constant being won: they are burs, I can tell you;

107they'll stick where they are thrown.

108Boldness comes to me now, and brings me heart.

109Prince Troilus, I have loved you night and day

110For many weary months.

111Why was my Cressid then so hard to win?

112Hard to seem won: but I was won, my lord,

113With the first glance that ever--pardon me--

114If I confess much, you will play the tyrant.

115I love you now; but not, till now, so much

116But I might master it: in faith, I lie;

117My thoughts were like unbridled children, grown

118Too headstrong for their mother. See, we fools!

119Why have I blabb'd? who shall be true to us,

120When we are so unsecret to ourselves?

121But, though I loved you well, I woo'd you not;

122And yet, good faith, I wish'd myself a man,

123Or that we women had men's privilege

124Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue,

125For in this rapture I shall surely speak

126The thing I shall repent. See, see, your silence,

127Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws

128My very soul of counsel! stop my mouth.

129And shall, albeit sweet music issues thence.

130Pretty, i' faith.

131My lord, I do beseech you, pardon me;

132'Twas not my purpose, thus to beg a kiss:

133I am ashamed. O heavens! what have I done?

134For this time will I take my leave, my lord.

135Your leave, sweet Cressid!

136Leave! an you take leave till to-morrow morning,--

137Pray you, content you.

138What offends you, lady?

139Sir, mine own company.

140You cannot shun Yourself.

141Let me go and try:

142I have a kind of self resides with you;

143But an unkind self, that itself will leave,

144To be another's fool. I would be gone:

145Where is my wit? I know not what I speak.

146Well know they what they speak that speak so wisely.

147Perchance, my lord, I show more craft than love;

148And fell so roundly to a large confession,

149To angle for your thoughts: but you are wise,

150Or else you love not, for to be wise and love

151Exceeds man's might; that dwells with gods above.

152O that I thought it could be in a woman--

153As, if it can, I will presume in you--

154To feed for aye her ramp and flames of love;

155To keep her constancy in plight and youth,

156Outliving beauty's outward, with a mind

157That doth renew swifter than blood decays!

158Or that persuasion could but thus convince me,

159That my integrity and truth to you

160Might be affronted with the match and weight

161Of such a winnow'd purity in love;

162How were I then uplifted! but, alas!

163I am as true as truth's simplicity

164And simpler than the infancy of truth.

165In that I'll war with you.

166O virtuous fight,

167When right with right wars who shall be most right!

168True swains in love shall in the world to come

169Approve their truths by Troilus: when their rhymes,

170Full of protest, of oath and big compare,

171Want similes, truth tired with iteration,

172As true as steel, as plantage to the moon,

173As sun to day, as turtle to her mate,

174As iron to adamant, as earth to the centre,

175Yet, after all comparisons of truth,

176As truth's authentic author to be cited,

177'As true as Troilus' shall crown up the verse,

178And sanctify the numbers.

179Prophet may you be!

180If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth,

181When time is old and hath forgot itself,

182When waterdrops have worn the stones of Troy,

183And blind oblivion swallow'd cities up,

184And mighty states characterless are grated

185To dusty nothing, yet let memory,

186From false to false, among false maids in love,

187Upbraid my falsehood! when they've said 'as false

188As air, as water, wind, or sandy earth,

189As fox to lamb, as wolf to heifer's calf,

190Pard to the hind, or stepdame to her son,'

191'Yea,' let them say, to stick the heart of falsehood,

192'As false as Cressid.'

193Go to, a bargain made: seal it, seal it; I'll be the

194witness. Here I hold your hand, here my cousin's.

195If ever you prove false one to another, since I have

196taken such pains to bring you together, let all

197pitiful goers-between be called to the world's end

198after my name; call them all Pandars; let all

199constant men be Troiluses, all false women Cressids,

200and all brokers-between Pandars! say, amen.

201Amen.

202Amen.

203Amen. Whereupon I will show you a chamber with a

204bed; which bed, because it shall not speak of your

205pretty encounters, press it to death: away!

206And Cupid grant all tongue-tied maidens here

207Bed, chamber, Pandar to provide this gear!

1Now, princes, for the service I have done you,

2The advantage of the time prompts me aloud

3To call for recompense. Appear it to your mind

4That, through the sight I bear in things to love,

5I have abandon'd Troy, left my possession,

6Incurr'd a traitor's name; exposed myself,

7From certain and possess'd conveniences,

8To doubtful fortunes; sequestering from me all

9That time, acquaintance, custom and condition

10Made tame and most familiar to my nature,

11And here, to do you service, am become

12As new into the world, strange, unacquainted:

13I do beseech you, as in way of taste,

14To give me now a little benefit,

15Out of those many register'd in promise,

16Which, you say, live to come in my behalf.

17What wouldst thou of us, Trojan? make demand.

18You have a Trojan prisoner, call'd Antenor,

19Yesterday took: Troy holds him very dear.

20Oft have you--often have you thanks therefore--

21Desired my Cressid in right great exchange,

22Whom Troy hath still denied: but this Antenor,

23I know, is such a wrest in their affairs

24That their negotiations all must slack,

25Wanting his manage; and they will almost

26Give us a prince of blood, a son of Priam,

27In change of him: let him be sent, great princes,

28And he shall buy my daughter; and her presence

29Shall quite strike off all service I have done,

30In most accepted pain.

31Let Diomedes bear him,

32And bring us Cressid hither: Calchas shall have

33What he requests of us. Good Diomed,

34Furnish you fairly for this interchange:

35Withal bring word if Hector will to-morrow

36Be answer'd in his challenge: Ajax is ready.

37This shall I undertake; and 'tis a burden

38Which I am proud to bear.

39Achilles stands i' the entrance of his tent:

40Please it our general to pass strangely by him,

41As if he were forgot; and, princes all,

42Lay negligent and loose regard upon him:

43I will come last. 'Tis like he'll question me

44Why such unplausive eyes are bent on him:

45If so, I have derision medicinable,

46To use between your strangeness and his pride,

47Which his own will shall have desire to drink:

48It may be good: pride hath no other glass

49To show itself but pride, for supple knees

50Feed arrogance and are the proud man's fees.

51We'll execute your purpose, and put on

52A form of strangeness as we pass along:

53So do each lord, and either greet him not,

54Or else disdainfully, which shall shake him more

55Than if not look'd on. I will lead the way.

56What, comes the general to speak with me?

57You know my mind, I'll fight no more 'gainst Troy.

58What says Achilles? would he aught with us?

59Would you, my lord, aught with the general?

60No.

61Nothing, my lord.

62The better.

63Good day, good day.

64How do you? how do you?

65What, does the cuckold scorn me?

66How now, Patroclus!

67Good morrow, Ajax.

68Ha?

69Good morrow.

70Ay, and good next day too.

71What mean these fellows? Know they not Achilles?

72They pass by strangely: they were used to bend

73To send their smiles before them to Achilles;

74To come as humbly as they used to creep

75To holy altars.

76What, am I poor of late?

77'Tis certain, greatness, once fall'n out with fortune,

78Must fall out with men too: what the declined is

79He shall as soon read in the eyes of others

80As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies,

81Show not their mealy wings but to the summer,

82And not a man, for being simply man,

83Hath any honour, but honour for those honours

84That are without him, as place, riches, favour,

85Prizes of accident as oft as merit:

86Which when they fall, as being slippery standers,

87The love that lean'd on them as slippery too,

88Do one pluck down another and together

89Die in the fall. But 'tis not so with me:

90Fortune and I are friends: I do enjoy

91At ample point all that I did possess,

92Save these men's looks; who do, methinks, find out

93Something not worth in me such rich beholding

94As they have often given. Here is Ulysses;

95I'll interrupt his reading.

96How now Ulysses!

97Now, great Thetis' son!

98What are you reading?

99A strange fellow here

100Writes me: 'That man, how dearly ever parted,

101How much in having, or without or in,

102Cannot make boast to have that which he hath,

103Nor feels not what he owes, but by reflection;

104As when his virtues shining upon others

105Heat them and they retort that heat again

106To the first giver.'

107This is not strange, Ulysses.

108The beauty that is borne here in the face

109The bearer knows not, but commends itself

110To others' eyes; nor doth the eye itself,

111That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself,

112Not going from itself; but eye to eye opposed

113Salutes each other with each other's form;

114For speculation turns not to itself,

115Till it hath travell'd and is mirror'd there

116Where it may see itself. This is not strange at all.

117I do not strain at the position,--

118It is familiar,--but at the author's drift;

119Who, in his circumstance, expressly proves

120That no man is the lord of any thing,

121Though in and of him there be much consisting,

122Till he communicate his parts to others:

123Nor doth he of himself know them for aught

124Till he behold them form'd in the applause

125Where they're extended; who, like an arch,

126reverberates

127The voice again, or, like a gate of steel

128Fronting the sun, receives and renders back

129His figure and his heat. I was much wrapt in this;

130And apprehended here immediately

131The unknown Ajax.

132Heavens, what a man is there! a very horse,

133That has he knows not what. Nature, what things there are

134Most abject in regard and dear in use!

135What things again most dear in the esteem

136And poor in worth! Now shall we see to-morrow--

137An act that very chance doth throw upon him--

138Ajax renown'd. O heavens, what some men do,

139While some men leave to do!

140How some men creep in skittish fortune's hall,

141Whiles others play the idiots in her eyes!

142How one man eats into another's pride,

143While pride is fasting in his wantonness!

144To see these Grecian lords!--why, even already

145They clap the lubber Ajax on the shoulder,

146As if his foot were on brave Hector's breast

147And great Troy shrieking.

148I do believe it; for they pass'd by me

149As misers do by beggars, neither gave to me

150Good word nor look: what, are my deeds forgot?

151Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back,

152Wherein he puts alms for oblivion,

153A great-sized monster of ingratitudes:

154Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd

155As fast as they are made, forgot as soon

156As done: perseverance, dear my lord,

157Keeps honour bright: to have done is to hang

158Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail

159In monumental mockery. Take the instant way;

160For honour travels in a strait so narrow,

161Where one but goes abreast: keep then the path;

162For emulation hath a thousand sons

163That one by one pursue: if you give way,

164Or hedge aside from the direct forthright,

165Like to an enter'd tide, they all rush by

166And leave you hindmost;

167Or like a gallant horse fall'n in first rank,

168Lie there for pavement to the abject rear,

169O'er-run and trampled on: then what they do in present,

170Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours;

171For time is like a fashionable host

172That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand,

173And with his arms outstretch'd, as he would fly,

174Grasps in the comer: welcome ever smiles,

175And farewell goes out sighing. O, let not

176virtue seek

177Remuneration for the thing it was;

178For beauty, wit,

179High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service,

180Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all

181To envious and calumniating time.

182One touch of nature makes the whole world kin,

183That all with one consent praise new-born gawds,

184Though they are made and moulded of things past,

185And give to dust that is a little gilt

186More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.

187The present eye praises the present object.

188Then marvel not, thou great and complete man,

189That all the Greeks begin to worship Ajax;

190Since things in motion sooner catch the eye

191Than what not stirs. The cry went once on thee,

192And still it might, and yet it may again,

193If thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive

194And case thy reputation in thy tent;

195Whose glorious deeds, but in these fields of late,

196Made emulous missions 'mongst the gods themselves

197And drave great Mars to faction.

198Of this my privacy

199I have strong reasons.

200But 'gainst your privacy

201The reasons are more potent and heroical:

202'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love

203With one of Priam's daughters.

204Ha! known!