The works of John Dryden, now first collected in eighteen volumes. Volume 06

Ulys. Is this a man, O Nestor, to be bought?
Asia's not price enough! bid the world for him.
And shall this man, this Hermes, this Apollo,
Sit lag of Ajax' table, almost minstrel,
And with his presence grace a brainless feast?
Why they con sense from him, grow wits by rote,
And yet, by ill repeating, libel him,
Making his wit their nonsense: nay, they scorn him;
Call him bought railer, mercenary tongue!
Play him for sport at meals, and kick him off.

Thers. Yes, they can kick; my buttocks feel they can;
They have their asses tricks; but I'll eat pebbles,
I'll starve,—'tis brave to starve, 'tis like a soldier,—
Before I'll feed those wit-starved rogues with sense.
They shall eat dry, and choak for want of wit,
Ere they be moistened with one drop of mine.
Ajax and Achilles! two mud-walls of fool,
That only differ in degrees of thickness.

Ulys. I'd be revenged of both. When wine fumes high,
Set them to prate, to boast their brutal strength,
To vie their stupid courage, till they quarrel,
And play at hard head with their empty skulls.

Thers. Yes; they shall butt and kick, and all the while
I'll think they kick for me; they shall fell timber
On both sides, and then logwood will be cheap.

Nest. And Agamemnon—

Ulys. to Nest. Away; our work is done. [Exeunt Ulys. and Nest.

Thers. This Agamemnon is a king of clouts,
A chip in porridge,—

Enter Ajax.

Ajax. Thersites.

Thers. Set up to frighten daws from cherry-trees,—

Ajax. Dog!

Thers. A standard to march under.

Ajax. Thou bitch-wolf! can'st thou not hear? feel then. [Strikes him.

Thers. The plague of Greece, and Helen's pox light on thee,
Thou mongrel mastiff, thou beef-witted lord!

Ajax. Speak then, thou mouldy leaven of the camp;
Speak, or I'll beat thee into handsomeness.

Thers. I shall sooner rail thee into wit; thou canst kick, canst thou? A red murrain on thy jades tricks!

Ajax. Tell me the proclamation.

Thers. Thou art proclaimed a fool, I think.

Ajax. You whorson cur, take that.[Strikes him.

Thers. Thou scurvy valiant ass!

Ajax. Thou slave!

Thers. Thou lord!—Ay, do, do,—would my buttocks were iron, for thy sake!

Enter Achilles and Patroclus.

Achil. Why, how now, Ajax! wherefore do you this?
How now, Thersites, what's the matter, man?

Thers. I say this Ajax wears his wit in's belly, and his guts in's brains.

Achil. Peace, fool.

Thers. I would have peace, but the fool will not.

Ajax. I bade him tell me the proclamation, and he rails upon me.

Thers. I serve thee not.

Ajax. I shall cut out your tongue.

Thers. 'Tis no matter; I shall speak as much sense as thou afterwards. I'll see you hanged ere I come any more to your tent; I'll keep where there's wit stirring, and leave the faction of fools.
[Going.

Achil. Nay, thou shalt not go, Thersites, till we have squeezed the venom out of thee: pr'ythee, inform us of this proclamation.

Thers. Why, you empty fuz-balls, your heads are full of nothing else but proclamations.

Ajax. Tell us the news, I say.

Thers. You say! why you never said any thing in all your life. But, since you will know, it is proclaimed through the army, that Hector is to cudgel you to-morrow.

Achil. How, cudgel him, Thersites!

Thers. Nay, you may take a child's part on't if you have so much courage, for Hector has challenged the toughest of the Greeks; and it is in dispute which of your two heads is the soundest timber. A knotty piece of work he'll have betwixt your noddles.

Achil. If Hector be to fight with any Greek,
He knows his man.

Ajax. Yes; he may know his man without art magic.

Thers. So he had need; for, to my certain knowledge, neither of you two are conjurers to inform him.

Achil. to Ajax. You do not mean yourself, sure?

Ajax. I mean nothing.

Thers. Thou mean'st so always.

Achil. Umh! mean nothing!

Ajax. You said he knew his man; is there but one?
One man amongst the Greeks?

Achil. Since you will have it,
But one to fight with Hector.

Ajax. Then I am he.

Achil. Weak Ajax!

Ajax. Weak Achilles.

Thers. Weak indeed; God help you both!

Patro. Come, this must be no quarrel.

Thers. There's no cause for't

Patro. He tells you true, you are both equal.

Thers. Fools.

Achil. I can brook no comparisons.

Ajax. Nor I.

Achil. Well, Ajax.

Ajax. Well, Achilles.

Thers. So, now they quarrel in monosyllables; a word and a blow, an't be thy will.

Achil. You may hear more.

Ajax. I would.

Achil. Expect.

Ajax. Farewell.[Exeunt severally.

Thers. Curse on them, they want wine; your true fool will never fight without it. Or a drab, a drab; Oh for a commodious drab betwixt them! would Helen had been here! then it had come to something.
Dogs, lions, bulls, for females tear and gore;
And the beast, man, is valiant for his whore. [Exit Thersites.

ACT III. SCENE I.

Enter Thersites.

Thers. Shall the idiot Ajax use me thus? he beats me, and I rail at him. O worthy satisfaction! would I could but beat him, and he railed at me! Then there's Achilles, a rare engineer; if Troy be not taken till these two undermine it, the walls will stand till they fall of themselves. Now the plague on the whole camp, or rather the pox; for that's a curse dependent on those that fight, as we do, for a cuckold's quean.—What, ho, my lord Achilles!

Enter Patroclus.

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

Thers. If I could have remembered an ass with gilt trappings, thou hadst not slipped out of my contemplation. But it is no matter: thyself upon thyself! the common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in great abundance! Heavens bless thee from a tutor, and discipline come not near thee!—I have said my prayers; and the devil, Envy, say Amen. Where's Achilles?

Enter Achilles.

Achil. Who's there, Thersites? Why, my digestion, why hast thou not served thyself to my table so many meals? Come, begin; what's Agamemnon?

Thers. Thy commander, Achilles.—Then tell me, Patroclus, what's Achilles?

Patro. Thy benefactor, Thersites. Then tell me, pr'ythee, what's thyself?

Thers. Thy knower, Patroclus. Then tell me, Patroclus, what art thou?

Achil. O, tell, tell.—This must be very foolish; and I die to have my spleen tickled.

Thers. I'll decline the whole question. Agamemnon commands Achilles; Achilles is my benefactor; I am Patroclus's knower; and Patroclus is a fool.

Patro. You rascal!

Achil, He is a privileged man; proceed, Thersites. Ha, ha, ha! pr'ythee, proceed, while I am in the vein of laughing.

Thers. And all these foresaid men are fools. Agamemnon's a fool, to offer to command Achilles; Achilles is a fool, to be commanded by him; I am a fool, to serve such a fool; and Patroclus is a fool positive.

Patro. Why am I a fool?

Thers. Make that demand to heaven; it suffices me, thou art one.

Acini. Ha, ha, ha! O give me ribs of steel, or I shall split with pleasure.—Now play me Nestor at a night alarm: mimick him rarely; make him cough and spit, and fumble with his gorget, and shake the rivets with his palsy hand, in and out, in and out; gad, that's exceeding foolish.

Patro. Nestor shall not escape so; he has told us what we are. Come, what's Nestor?

Thers. Why, he is an old wooden top, set up by father Time three hundred years ago, that hums to Agamemnon and Ulysses, and sleeps to all the world besides.

Achil. So let him sleep, for I'll no more of him.—O, my Patroclus, I but force a smile; Ajax has drawn the lot, and all the praise of Hector must be his.

Patro. How he struts in expectation of honour! he knows not what he does.

Thers. Nay, that's no wonder, for he never did.

Achil. Pr'ythee, say how he behaves himself?

Thers. O, you would be learning to practise against such another time?—Why, he tosses up his head as he had built castles in the air; and he treads upward to them, stalks into the element; he surveys himself, as it were to look for Ajax: he would be cried, for he has lost himself; nay, he knows nobody; I said, "Good-morrow, Ajax," and he replied, "Thanks, Agamemnon."

Achil. Thou shalt be my ambassador to him, Thersites.

Thers. No, I'll put on his person; let Patroclus make his demands to me, and you shall see the pageant of Ajax.

Achil. To him, Patroclus; tell him I humbly desire the valiant Ajax to invite the noble Hector to my tent; and to procure safe conduct for him from our captain general Agamemnon.

Patro. Jove bless the mighty Ajax!

Thers. Humh!

Patro. I come from the great Achilles.

Thers. Ha!

Patro. Who most humbly desires you to invite Hector to his tent.

Thers. Humh!

Patro. And to procure him safe conduct from Agamemnon.

Thers. Agamemnon?

Patro. Ay, my lord.

Thers. Ha!

Patro. What say you to it?

Thers. Farewell, with all my heart.

Thers. If to-morrow be a fair day, by eleven o'clock it will go one way or the other; however, he shall buy me dearly. Fare you well, with all my heart.

Achil. Why, but he is not in this tune, is he?

Thers. No; but he's thus out of tune. What music will be in him when Hector has knocked out his brains, I know not, nor I care not; but if emptiness makes noise, his head will make melody.

Achil. My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirred; And I myself see not the bottom on't.

Thers. Would the fountain of his mind were clear, that he might see an ass in it! I had rather be a tick in a sheep, than such a valiant ignorance.
[Aside.

Enter Agamemnon, Ajax, Diomedes, and Menelaus.

Patro. Look, who comes here.

Achil. Patroclus, I'll speak with nobody;—come in after me, Thersites.
[Exeunt Achilles and Thersites.

Again. Where's Achilles?

Patro. Within, but ill disposed, my lord.

Men. We saw him at the opening of his tent.

Again. Let it be known to him, that we are here.

Patro. I shall say so to him.[Exit Patroc.

Diom. I know he is not sick.

Ajax. Yes, lion-sick, sick of a proud heart: you may call it melancholy, if you will humour him; but, on my honour, it is no more than pride; and why should he be proud?

Men. Here comes Patroclus; but no Achilles with him.

Patro. Achilles bids me tell you, he is sorry
If any thing more than your sport and pleasure
Did move you to this visit: He's not well,
And begs you would excuse him, as unfit
For present business.

Agam. How! how's this, Patroclus?
We are too well acquainted with these answers.
Though he has much desert, yet all his virtues
Do in our eyes begin to lose their gloss.
We came to speak with him; you shall not err,
If you return, we think him over-proud,
And under-honest. Tell him this; and add,
That if he overhold his price so much,
We'll none of him; but let him, like an engine
Not portable, lie lag of all the camp.
A stirring dwarf is of more use to us,
Than is a sleeping giant: tell him so.

Patro. I shall, and bring his answer presently.

Agam. I'll not be satisfied, but by himself:
So tell him, Menelaus.[Exeunt Menelaus and Patroclus.

Ajax. What's he more than another?

Agam. No more than what he thinks himself.

Ajax. Is he so much? Do you not think, he thinks himself a better man than me?

Diom. No doubt he does.

Ajax. Do you think so?

Agam. No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as valiant but much more courteous.

Ajax. Why should a man be proud? I know not what pride is; I hate a proud man, as I hate the engendering of toads.

Diom. [Aside.] 'Tis strange he should, and love himself so well.

Men. Achilles will not to the field to-morrow.

Agam. What's his excuse?

Men. Why, he relies on none
But his own will; possessed he is with vanity.
What should I say? he is so plaguy proud,
That the death-tokens of it are upon him,
And bode there's no recovery.

Enter Ulysses and Nestor.

Agam. Let Ajax go to him.

Ulys. O Agamemnon, let it not be so.
We'll consecrate the steps that Ajax makes,
When they go from Achilles. Shall that proud man
Be worshipped by a greater than himself,
One, whom we hold our idol?
Shall Ajax go to him? No, Jove forbid,
And say in thunder, go to him, Achilles.

Nest. [Aside.] O, this is well; he rubs him where it itches.

Ajax. If I go to him, with my gauntlet clenched I'll pash him o'er the face.

Agam. O no, you shall not go.

Ajax. An he be proud with me, I'll cure his pride; a paultry insolent fellow!

Nest. How he describes himself![Aside.

Ulys. The crow chides blackness: [Aside.]—Here is a man,—but 'tis before his face, and therefore I am silent.

Nest. Wherefore are you? He is not envious, as Achilles is.

Ulys. Know all the world, he is as valiant.

Ajax. A whoreson dog, that shall palter thus with us! Would a were a Trojan!

Ajax. Shall I call you father?

Ulys. Ay, my good son.

Diom. Be ruled by him, lord Ajax.

Ulys. There is no staying here; the hart Achilles
Keeps thicket;—please it our great general,
I shall impart a counsel, which, observed,
May cure the madman's pride.

Agam. In my own tent our talk will be more private.

Ulys. But nothing without Ajax;
He is the soul and substance of my counsels,
And I am but his shadow.

Ajax. You shall see
I am not like Achilles.
Let us confer, and I'll give counsel too.[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter Pandarus, Troilus, and Cressida.

Pand. Come, come, what need you blush? Shame's a baby; swear the oaths now to her, that you swore to me: What, are you gone again? you must be watched ere you are made tame, must you? Why don't you speak to her first?—Come, draw this curtain and let's see your picture; alas-a-day, how loth you are to offend day-light! [They kiss.] That's well, that's well; nay, you shall fight your hearts out ere I part you. So so—so so—

Pand. Words pay no debts; give her deeds.—What billing again! Here's, in witness whereof the parties interchangeably—come in, come in, you lose time both.

Troil. O Cressida, how often have I wished me here!

Cres. Wished, my lord!—The gods grant!—O, my lord—

Troil. What should they grant? what makes this pretty interruption in thy words?

Cres. I speak I know not what!

Troil. Speak ever so; and if I answer you
I know not what—it shows the more of love.
Love is a child that talks in broken language,
Yet then he speaks most plain.

Cres. I find it true, that to be wise, and love,
Are inconsistent things.

Pand. What, blushing still! have you not done talking yet?

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

Pand. I thank you for that; if my lord get a boy of you, you'll give him me. Be true to my lord; if he flinch, I'll be hanged for him.—Now am I in my kingdom!
[Aside.

Troil. You know your pledges now; your uncle's word, and my firm faith.

Pand. Nay, I'll give my word for her too: Our kindred are constant; they are burs, I can assure you; they'll stick where they are thrown.

Cres. Boldness comes to me now, and I can speak:
Prince Troilus, I have loved you long.

Troil. Why was my Cressida then so hard to win?

Troil. A sweet command, and willingly obeyed.[Kisses.

Pand. Pretty, i'faith!

Cres. My lord, I do beseech you pardon me;
'Twas not my purpose thus to beg a kiss.
I am ashamed;—O heavens, what have I done!
For this time let me take my leave, my lord.

Pand. Leave! an you take leave till to-morrow morning, call me Cut.

Cres. Pray, let me go.

Troil. Why, what offends you, madam?

Cres. My own company.

Troil. You cannot shun yourself.

Cres. Let me go try;
I have a kind of self resides in you.

Troil. Oh that I thought truth could be in a woman,
(As if it can, I will presume in you,)
That my integrity and faith might meet
The same return from her, who has my heart,
How should I be exalted! but, alas,
I am more plain than dull simplicity,
And artless as the infancy of truth!

Cres. In that I must not yield to you, my lord.

Troil. All constant lovers shall, in future ages,
Approve their truth by Troilus. When their verse
Wants similes,—as turtles to their mates,
Or true as flowing tides are to the moon,
Earth to the centre, iron to adamant,—
At last, when truth is tired with repetition,
As true as Troilus, shall crown up the verse,
And sanctify the numbers.

Pand. Go to, little ones; a bargain made. Here I hold your hand, and here my cousin's: if ever you prove false to one another, after I have taken such pains to bring you together, let all pitiful goers-between be called to the world's end after my name, Pandars.

Cres. And will you promise, that the holy priest
Shall make us one for ever?

Pand. Priests! marry hang them, they make you one! Go in, go in, and make yourselves one without a priest; I'll have no priest's work in my house.

Cres. I'll not consent, unless you swear.

Pand. Ay, do, do swear; a pretty woman's worth an oath at any time. Keep or break, as time shall try; but it is good to swear, for the saving of her credit. Hang them, sweet rogues, they never expect a man should keep it. Let him but swear, and that's all they care for.

Troil. Heavens prosper me, as I devoutly swear,
Never to be but yours!

Pand. Whereupon I will lead you into a chamber; and suppose there be a bed in it, as, ifack, I know not, but you'll forgive me if there be—away, away, you naughty hildings; get you together, get you together. Ah you wags, do you leer indeed at one another! do the neyes twinkle at him! get you together, get you together.
[Leads them out.

Enter at one Door Æneas, with a Torch; at another, Hector and Diomede, with Torches.

Hect. So ho, who goes there? Æneas!

Diom. Good-morrow, lord Æneas.

Hect. A valiant Greek, Æneas; take his hand;
Witness the process of your speech within;
You told how Diomede a whole week by days
Did haunt you in the field.

Æn. Health to you, valiant sir,
During all business of the gentle truce;
But, when I meet you armed, as black defiance,
As heart can think, or courage execute.

Diom. Both one and t'other Diomede embraces.
Our bloods are now in calm; and so long, health;
But when contention and occasion meet,
By Jove I'll play the hunter for thy life.

Æn. And thou shall hunt a lion, that will fly
With his face backward. Welcome, Diomede,
Welcome to Troy. Now, by Anchises' soul,
No man alive can love in such a sort
The thing he means to kill more excellently.

Diom. We know each other well.

Æn. We do; and long to know each other worse.—
My lord, the king has sent for me in haste;
Know you the reason?

Hect. Yes; his purpose meets you.
It was to bring this Greek to Calchas' house,
Where Pandarus his brother, and his daughter
Fair Cressida reside; and there to render
For our Antenor, now redeemed from prison,
The lady Cressida.

Æn. What! Has the king resolved to gratify
That traitor Calchas, who forsook his country,
And turned to them, by giving up this pledge?

Hect. The bitter disposition of the time
Is such, though Calchas, as a fugitive,
Deserve it not, that we must free Antenor,
On whose wise counsels we can most rely;
And therefore Cressida must be returned.

Hect. Go you before. Tell him of our approach,
Which will, I fear, be much unwelcome to him.

Æn. I assure you,
Troilus had rather Troy were borne to Greece,
Than Cressida from Troy.

Hect. I know it well; and how he is, beside,
Of hasty blood.

Æn. He will not hear me speak;
But I have noted long betwixt you two
A more than brother's love; an awful homage
The fiery youth pays to your elder virtue.

Hect. Leave it to me; I'll manage him alone;
Attend you Diomede.—My lord, good-morrow;[To Diom.
An urgent business takes me from the pleasure
Your company affords me; but Æneas,
With joy, will undertake to serve you here,
And to supply my room.

Æn. [To Diom.] My lord, I wait you. [Exeunt severally; Diomede with Æneas, Hector at another Door.

Enter Pandarus, a Servant, Music.

Pand. Softly, villain, softly; I would not for half Troy the lovers should be disturbed under my roof: listen, rogue, listen; do they breathe?

Serv. Yes, sir; I hear, by some certain signs, they are both awake.

Pand. That's as it should be; that's well o' both sides. [Listens.]—Yes, 'faith, they are both alive:—There was a creak! there was a creak! they are both alive, and alive like;—there was a creak! a ha, boys!—Is the music ready?

Pand. Art thou sure they do not know the parties?

Serv. They play to the man in the moon, for aught they know.

Pand. To the man in the moon? ah rogue! do they so indeed, rogue! I understand thee; thou art a wag; thou art a wag. Come, towze rowze! in the name of love, strike up, boys.

Music, and then a Song; during which Pandarus listens.

Enter Troilus and Cressida.

Troil. Farewell, my life! leave me, and back to bed:
Sleep seal those pretty eyes,
And tie thy senses in as soft a band,
As infants void of thought.

Pand. [Shewing himself.] How now, how now; how go matters? Hear you, maid, hear you; where's my cousin Cressida?

Cres. Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle:
You bring me to do ill, and then you jeer me!

Pand. What ill have I brought you to do? Say what, if you dare now?—My lord, have I brought her to do ill?

Cres. Come, come,—beshrew your heart, you'll neither be good yourself, nor suffer others.

Pand. Alas, poor wench! alas, poor devil! Has not slept to-night? would a'not, a naughty man, let it sleep one twinkle? A bugbear take him!

Cres. [Knock within.]
Who's that at door? good uncle, go and see:—
My lord, come you again into my chamber.—
You smile and mock, as if I meant naughtily!

Troil. Indeed, indeed!

Cres. Come, you're deceived; I think of no such thing.— [Knock again.
How earnestly they knock! Pray, come in: I would not for all Troy you were seen here.
[Exeunt Troil. and Cres.

Pand. Who's there? What's the matter?
Will you beat down the house there!

Hect. Good morrow, my lord Pandarus; good morrow!

Pand. Who's there? prince Hector! What news with you so early?

Hect. Is not my brother Troilus here?

Pand. Here! what should he do here?

Hect. Come, he is here, my lord; do not deny him:
It does import him much to speak with me.

Pand. Is he here, say you? It is more than I know, I'll be sworn! For my part, I came in late.—What should he do here?

Hect. Come, come, you do him wrong ere you're aware; you'll be so true to him, that you'll be false to him: You shall not know he's here; but yet go fetch him hither; go.
[Exit Pand.

Enter Troilus.

I bring you, brother, most unwelcome news;
But since of force you are to hear it told,
I thought a friend and brother best might tell it:
Therefore, before I speak, arm well your mind,
And think you're to be touched even to the quick;
That so, prepared for ill, you may be less
Surprised to hear the worst.

Troil. See, Hector, what it is to be your brother!
I stand prepared already.

Hect. Come, you are hot;
I know you, Troilus, you are hot and fiery:
You kindle at a wrong, and catch it quick,
As stubble does the flame.

Troil. 'Tis heat of blood,
And rashness of my youth; I'll mend that error:
Begin, and try my temper.

Troil. There can be nothing.
I love you, brother, with that awful love
I bear to heaven, and to superior virtue:
And when I quit this love, you must be that,
Which Hector ne'er can be.

Hect. Remember well
What you have said; for, when I claim your promise,
I shall expect performance.

Troil. I am taught:
I will not rage.

Hect. Nor grieve beyond a man?

Troil. I will not be a woman.

Hect. Do not, brother:
And I will tell my news in terms so mild,
So tender, and so fearful to offend,
As mothers use to sooth their froward babes;
Nay, I will swear, as you have sworn to me,
That, if some gust of passion swell your soul
To words intemperate, I will bear with you.

Troil. What would this pomp of preparation mean?
Come you to bring me news of Priam's death,
Or Hecuba's?

Hect. The gods forbid I should!
But what I bring is nearer you, more close,
An ill more yours.

Troil. There is but one that can be.

Hect. Perhaps, 'tis that.

Troil. I'll not suspect my fate
So far; I know I stand possessed of that.

Hect. 'Tis well: consider at whose house I find you.

Troil. Ha!

Troil. For whom?

Hect. Imagine.

Troil. It comes, like thunder grumbling in a cloud,
Before the dreadful break: If here it fall,
The subtle flame will lick up all my blood,
And, in a moment, turn my heart to ashes.

Hect. That Cressida for Antenor is exchanged,
Because I knew 'twas harsh, I would not tell;
Not all at once; but by degrees and glimpses
I let it in, lest it might rush upon you,
And quite o'erpower your soul: In this, I think,
I showed a friend: your part must follow next;
Which is, to curb your choler, tame your grief,
And bear it like a man.

Troil. I think I do,
That I yet live to hear you. But no more;
Hope for no more; for, should some goddess offer
To give herself and all her heaven in change,
I would not part with Cressida: So return
This answer as my last.

Hect. 'Twill not be taken:
Nor will I bear such news.

Troil. You bore me worse.

Hect. Worse for yourself; not for the general state,
And all our common safety, which depends
On freed Antenor's wisdom.

Troil. You would say,
That I'm the man marked out to be unhappy,
And made the public sacrifice for Troy.

Troil. O, she's my life, my being, and my soul!

Hect. Suppose she were,—which yet I will not grant,—
You ought to give her up.

Troil. For whom?

Hect. The public.

Troil. And what are they, that I should give up her,
To make them happy? Let me tell you, brother,
The public is the lees of vulgar slaves;
Slaves, with the minds of slaves; so born, so bred.
Yet such as these, united in a herd,
Are called, the public! Millions of such cyphers
Make up the public sum. An eagle's life
Is worth a world of crows. Are princes made
For such as these; who, were one soul extracted
From all their beings, could not raise a man?—

Hect. And what are we, but for such men as these?
'Tis adoration, some say, makes a god:
And who should pay it, where would be their altars,
Were no inferior creatures here on earth?
Even those, who serve, have their expectancies,
Degrees of happiness, which they must share,
Or they'll refuse to serve us.

Troil. Let them have it;
Let them eat, drink, and sleep; the only use
They have of life.

Hect. You take all these away,
Unless you give up Cressida.

Troil. Forbear:
Let Paris give up Helen; she's the cause,
And root, of all this mischief.

Hect. Your own suffrage
Condemns you there: you voted for her stay.

Troil. If one must stay, the other shall not go.

Hect. She shall not?

Troil. Once again I say, she shall not.

Troil. No matter.

Hect. How! no matter, Troilus?
A king, a father's will!

Troil. When 'tis unjust.

Hect. Come, she shall go.

Troil. She shall? then I am dared.

Hect. If nothing else will do.

Troil. Answer me first,
And then I'll answer that,—be sure I will,—
Whose hand sealed this exchange?

Hect. My father's first;
Then all the council's after.

Troil. Was yours there?

Hect. Mine was there too.

Troil. Then you're no more my friend:
And for your sake,—now mark me what I say,—
She shall not go.

Hect. Go to; you are a boy.

Troil. A boy! I'm glad I am not such a man,
Not such as thou, a traitor to thy brother;
Nay, more, thy friend: But friend's a sacred name,
Which none but brave and honest men should wear:
In thee 'tis vile; 'tis prostitute; 'tis air;
And thus, I puff it from me.

Hect. Well, young man,
Since I'm no friend, (and, oh, that e'er I was,
To one so far unworthy!) bring her out;
Or, by our father's soul, of which no part
Did e'er descend to thee, I'll force her hence.

Troil. I laugh at thee.

Hect. Thou dar'st not.

Troil. I dare more,
If urged beyond my temper: Prove my daring,
And see which of us has the larger share
Of our great father's soul.

Hect. No more!—thou know'st me.

Hect. All this, ye gods!
And for the daughter of a fugitive,
A traitor to his country!

Troil. 'Tis too much.

Hect. By heaven, too little; for I think her common.

Troil. How, common!

Hect. Common as the tainted shambles,
Or as the dust we tread.

Troil. By heaven, as chaste as thy Andromache. [Hector lays his hand on Troilus's arm, Troilus does the same to him.

Hect. What, namest thou them together!

Troil. No, I do not:
Fair Cressida is first; as chaste as she,
But much more fair.

Hect. O, patience, patience, heaven!
Thou tempt'st me strangely: should I kill thee now,
I know not if the gods can he offended,
Or think I slew a brother: But, begone!
Begone, or I shall shake thee into atoms;
Thou know'st I can.

Troil. I care not if you could.

Hect. [walking off.]
I thank the gods, for calling to my mind
My promise, that no words of thine should urge me
Beyond the bounds of reason: But in thee
'Twas brutal baseness, so forewarned, to fall
Beneath the name of man; to spurn my kindness;
And when I offered thee (thou know'st how loth!)
The wholesome bitter cup of friendly counsel,
To dash it in my face. Farewell, farewell,
Ungrateful as thou art: hereafter use
The name of brother; but of friend no more.[Going out.

Hect. What would'st thou more?
Take heed, young man, how you too far provoke me!
For heaven can witness, 'tis with much constraint
That I preserve my faith.

Troil. Else you would kill me?

Hect. By all the gods I would.

Troil. I'm satisfied.
You have condemned me, and I'll do't myself.
What's life to him, who has no use of life?
A barren purchase, held upon hard terms!
For I have lost (oh, what have I not lost!)
The fairest, dearest, kindest, of her sex;
And lost her even by him, by him, ye gods!
Who only could, and only should protect me!
And if I had a joy beyond that love,
A friend, have lost him too!

Hect. Speak that again,—
For I could hear it ever,—saidst thou not,
That if thou hadst a joy beyond that love,
It was a friend? O, saidst thou not, a friend!
That doubting if was kind: then thou'rt divided;
And I have still some part.

Troil. If still you have,
You do not care to have it.

Hect. How, not care!

Troil. No, brother, care not.

Hect. Am I but thy brother?

Troil. You told me, I must call you friend no more.

Troil. Is't possible!
Then you are still my friend.

Hect. Heaven knows I am!

Troil. And can forgive the sallies of my passion?
For I have been to blame, oh! much to blame;
Have said such words, nay, done such actions too,
(Base as I am!) that my awed conscious soul
Sinks in my breast, nor dare I lift an eye
On him I have offended.

Hect. Peace be to thee,
And calmness ever there. I blame thee not:
I know thou lov'st; and what can love not do!
I cast the wild disorderly account,
Of all thy words and deeds, on that mad passion:
I pity thee, indeed I pity thee.

Troil. Do, for I need it: Let me lean my head
Upon thy bosom, all my peace dwells there;
Thou art some god, or much, much more than man!

Hect. Alas, to lose the joys of all thy youth,
One who deserved thy love!

Troil. Did she deserve?

Hect. She did.

Troil. Then sure she was no common creature?

Hect. I said it in my rage; I thought not so.

Troil. That thought has blessed me! But to lose this love,
After long pains, and after short possession!

Hect. I feel it for thee: Let me go to Priam,
I'll break this treaty off; or let me fight:
I'll be thy champion, and secure both her,
And thee, and Troy.

Troil. It must not be, my brother;
For then your error would be more than mine:
I'll bring her forth, and you shall bear her hence;
That you have pitied me is my reward.

ACT IV. SCENE I.

Enter Pandarus and Cressida meeting.

Pand. Is't possible? no sooner got but lost?
The devil take Antenor! the young prince will go mad:
A plague upon Antenor! would they had broke his neck!

Cres. How now? what's the matter? Who was here?

Pand. Oh, oh!

Cres. Why sigh you so? O, where's my Troilus?
Tell me, sweet uncle, what's the matter?

Pand. Would I were as deep under the earth, as
I am above it!

Cres. O, the gods! What's the matter?

Pand. Pr'ythee get thee in; would thou hadst never been born!
I knew thou wouldst be his death; oh, poor gentleman!
A plague upon Antenor!

Cres. Good uncle, I beseech you on my knees, tell me what's the matter?

Pand. Thou must be gone, girl; thou must be gone, to the fugitive rogue-priest, thy father: (and he's my brother too; but that's all one at this time:) A pox upon Antenor!

Cres. O, ye immortal gods! I will not go.

Pand. Thou must, thou must.

Enter Troilus.

Pand. Here, here, here he comes, sweet duck!

Cres. O, Troilus, Troilus! [They both weep over each other; she running into his arms.

Pand. What a pair of spectacles is here! let me embrace too. Oh, heart,—as the saying is,—
—o heart, o heavy heart,
Why sigh'st thou without breaking!
Where he answers again,
Because thou can'st not ease thy smart,
By friendship nor by speaking.
There was never a truer rhyme: let us cast away nothing, for we may live to have need of such a verse; we see it, we see it.—How now, lambs?

Troil. Cressid, I love thee with so strange a purity,
That the blest gods, angry with my devotions,
More bright in zeal than that I pay their altars,
Will take thee from my sight.

Cres. Have the gods envy?

Pand. Ay, ay, ay; 'tis too plain a case!

Cres. And is it true, that I must go from Troy?

Troil. A hateful truth.

Cres. What, and from Troilus too?

Troil. From Troy and Troilus,—and suddenly;
So suddenly, 'tis counted out by minutes.

Cres. What, not an hour allowed for taking leave?

Troil. Even that's bereft us too: Our envious fates
Jostle betwixt, and part the dear adieus
Of meeting lips, clasped hands, and locked embraces.

Æneas. [Within.] My lord, is the lady ready yet?

Pand. Where are my tears? some rain to lay this wind,
Or my heart will be blown up by the roots!

Troil. Hear me, my love! be thou but true, like me.

Cres. I true! how now, what wicked thought is this?

Troil. Nay, we must use expostulation kindly,
For it is parting from us.
I spoke not, be thou true, as fearing thee;
But be thou true, I said, to introduce
My following protestation,—be thou true,
And I will see thee.

Cres. You'll be exposed to dangers.

Troil. I care not; but be true.

Cres. Be true, again?

Troil. Hear why I speak it, love.
The Grecian youths are full of Grecian arts:
Alas! a kind of holy jealousy,
Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin,
Makes me afraid how far you may be tempted.

Cres. O heavens, you love me not!

Troil. Die I a villain then!
In this I do not call your faith in question,
But my own merit.

Cres. Fear not; I'll be true.

Troil. Then, fate, thy worst! for I will see thee, love;
Not all the Grecian host shall keep me out,
Nor Troy, though walled with fire, should hold me in.

Æneas. [Within.] My lord, my lord Troilus! I must call you.

Troil. [To Pand.] Pr'ythee, go out, and gain one
minute more.

Pand. Marry and I will: follow you your business; lose no time, 'tis very precious; go, bill again: I'll tell the rogue his own, I warrant him.
[Exit Pandarus.

Cres. What have we gained by this one minute more?

Troil. Only to wish another, and another,
A longer struggling with the pangs of death.

Cres. O, those, who do not know what parting is,
Can never learn to die!

Troil. When I but think this sight may be our last,
If Jove could set me in the place of Atlas,
And lay the weight of heaven and gods upon me,
He could not press me more.

Cres. Oh let me go, that I may know my grief;
Grief is but guessed, while thou art standing by:
But I too soon shall know what absence is.

Troil. Why, 'tis to be no more; another name for death:
'Tis the sun parting from the frozen north;
And I, methinks, stand on some icy cliff,
To watch the last low circles that he makes,
'Till he sink down from heaven! O only Cressida,
If thou depart from me, I cannot live:
I have not soul enough to last for grief,
But thou shalt hear what grief has done with me.

Cres. If I could live to hear it, I were false.
But, as a careful traveller, who, fearing
Assaults of robbers, leaves his wealth behind,
I trust my heart with thee; and to the Greeks
Bear but an empty casket.

SCENE II.

Achilles and Patroclus standing in their tent.—Ulysses Agamemnon, Menelaus, Nestor, and Ajax, passing over the stage.

Ulys. Achilles stands i' the entrance of his tent:
Please it our general to pass strangely by him,
As if he were forgot; and, princes all,
Look on him with neglectful eyes and scorn:
Pride must be cured by pride.

Agam. We'll execute your purpose, and put on
A form of strangeness as we pass along;
So do each prince; either salute him not,
Or else disdainfully, which will shake him more
Than if not looked on. I will lead the way.

Achil. What, comes the general to speak with me?
You know my mind; I'll fight no more with Troy.

Agam. What says Achilles? would he aught with us?

Nest. Would you, my lord, aught with the general?

Achil. No.

Nest. Nothing, my lord.

Agam. The better.

Menel. How do you, how do you?