Enter Thersites. Ther. A wonder! Achil. What? And I myself see not the bottom of it. [Exeunt Achilles and Patroclus. Ther. 'Would the fountain of your mind were Ther. Ajax goes up and down the field, asking clear again, that I might water an ass at it! I had for himself. rather be a tick in a sheep, than such a valiant ignorance. [Exit Achil. How so? Ther. He must fight singly to-morrow with Hector; and is so prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling, that he raves in saying nothing. Achil. How can that be? Ther. Why, he stalks up and down like a peacock, a stride and a stand: ruminates, like a hostess, that hath no arithmetic but her brain to set down her reckoning: bites his lip with a politic regard, as who should say-there were wit in this head, an 'twould out; and so there is; but it lies as coldly in him as fire in a flint, which will not show without knocking. The man's undone for ever; for if Hector break not his neck i'the combat, he'll break it himself in vain-glory. He knows not me: I said, Good-morrow, Ajax; and he replies, Thanks, Agamemnon. What think you of this man, that takes me for the general? He is grown a very land-fish, languageless, a monster. A plague of opinion! a man may wear it on both sides, like a leather jerkin. Achil. Thou must be my ambassador to him, Thersites. Ther. Who, I? why, he'll answer nobody; he professes not answering; speaking is for beggars; he wears his tongue in his arms. I will put on his presence; let Patroclus make demands to me, you shall see the pageant of Ajax. Acnil. To him, Patroclus: Tell him,-I humbly desire the valiant Ajax, to invite the most valorous Hector to come unarmed to my tent; and to procure safe conduct for his person, of the magnanimous, and most illustrious, six-or-seven-times-honoured captain-general of the Grecian army, Agamemnon. Do this. Patr. Jove bless great Ajax. Patr. I come from the worthy Achilles,— Pat. Who most humbly desires you, to Ther. Humph! invite Patr. And to procure safe conduct from Aga Patr. Your answer, sir. Ther. Fare you well, with all my heart. Achil. Why, but he is not in his tune, is he? Ther. No, but he's out o'tune thus. What music will be in him when Hector has knocked out his brains, I know not: But, I am sure, none; unless the fiddler Apollo get his sinews to make catlings' on. Achil. Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight. Ther. Let me bear another to his horse; for that's the more capable2 creature. Achil. My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirr'd; 1) Lute-strings made of catgut. (2) Intelligent. ACT IV. SCENE I.-Troy. A street. Enter, at one side, Eneas and Servant, with a torch; at the other, Paris, Deiphobus, Antenor, Diomedes, and oth ers, with torches. Par. See, ho! who's that there? Dei. "Tis the lord Æneas. Ene. Is the prince there in person ?Had I so go good occasion to lie long, As you, prince Paris, nothing but heavenly business Should rob my bed-mate of my company. Dio. That's my mind too.-Good morrow, lord Æneas. Par. A valiant Greek, Æneas; take his hand : Witness the process of your speech, wherein You told-how Diomed, a whole week by days, Did haunt you in the field. Ene. Health to you, valiant sir, During all question3 of the gentle truce: But when I meet you arm'd, as black defiance, As heart can think, or courage execute. Dio. The one and other Diomed embraces. Our bloods are now in calm; and, so long, health: But when contention and occasion meet, By Jove, I'll play the hunter for thy life, With all my force, pursuit, and policy. Ene. And thou shalt hunt a lion, that will fly With his face backward.-In humane gentleness, Welcome to Troy! now, by Anchises' life, Welcome, indeed! By Venus' hand I swear, No man alive can love, in such a sort, The thing he means to kill, more excellently. Dio. We sympathize:-Jove, let Æneas live, If to my sword his Pate be not the glory, A thousand complete courses of the sun! But, in mine emulous honour, let him die, With every joint a wound; and that to-morrow! Ene. We know each other well. Dio. We do; and long to know each other worse. Par. This is the most despiteful gentle greeting, The noblest hateful love, that e'er I heard of.What business, lord, so early? Ene. I was sent for to the king; but why, I know not. Par. His purpose meets you; 'Twas to bring this Greek To Calchas' house; and there to render him, (3) Conversation. ne. Good morrow, all. Exit. -Here, you maid! where's my cousin Cressid? Cres. Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle! Par. And tell me, noble Diomed; 'faith, tell me true, Even in the soul of sound good-fellowship,- Dio. Both alike: He merits well to have her, that doth seek her Par. You are too bitter to your countrywoman. For every false drop in her bawdy veins A Grecian's life hath sunk; for every scruple A Trojan hath been slain: since she could speak, Par. Fair Diomed, you do as chapmen do, Dispraise the thing that you desire to buy: But we in silence hold this virtue well,We'll not commend what we intend to sell. Here lies our way. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The same. Court before the house of Pandarus. Enter Troilus and Cressida. Tro. Dear, trouble not yourself; the morn is cold. Cres. Then, sweet my lord, I'll call mine uncle down; He shall unbolt the gates. Tro. Trouble him not; Tro. Pr'ythee now, to bed. Good morrow then. Are you a-weary of me? Tro. O Cressida! but that the busy day, Wak'd by the lark, hath rous'd the ribald' crows, And dreaming night will hide our joys no longer," I would not from thee. Cres. Night hath been too brief. Tro. Beshrew the witch! with venomous wights she stays, As tediously as hell; but flies the grasps of love, You men will never tarry. Pr'ythee, tarry;— Cres. A pestilence on him! now will he be mocking: Pan. Ha, ha! Alas, poor wretch! a poor capocchia !-hast not slept to-night? would he not, a naughty man, let it sleep? a bugbear take him! [Knocking. Cres. Did I not tell you?-'Would he were knock'd o'the head! Who's that at door? good uncle, go and see.- Cres. Come, you are deceiv'd, I think of no such thing.[Knocking. How earnestly they knock!-pray you, come in; I would not for half Troy have you seen here. [Exeunt Troilus and Cressida. Pan. [Going to the door.] Who's there? what's the matter? will you beat down the door? How now? what's the matter? Enter Æneas. Ene. Good morrow, lord, good morrow. Pan. Who's there? my lord Eneas? By my troth, I knew you not; what news with you so early? Ene. Is not prince Troilus here! Pan. Here! what should he do here? Ene. Come, he is here, my lord, do not deny him; It doth import him much, to speak with me. I'll be sworn :-For my own part, I came in late: Pan. Is he here, say you? 'tis more than I know, What should he do here? ne. Who!-nay, then :Come, come, you'll do him wrong ere you are 'ware: You'll be so true to him, to be false to him: Do not you know of him, yet go fetch him hither; Go. As Pandarus is going out, enter Troilus. Tro. How now? what's the matter? ne. My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you, My matter is so rash: There is at hand Paris your brother, and Deiphobus, The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor Deliver'd to us; and for him forthwith, Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour, We must give up to Diomedes' hand The lady Cressida. Tro. Is it so concluded? Ene. By Priam, and the general state of Troy : They are at hand, and ready to effect it. I Tro. How my achievements mock me! will go meet them: and, my lord Encas, We met by chance; you did not find me here. Ene. Good, good, my lord; the secrets of na ture Have not more gift in taciturnity. [Exeunt Troilus and Æneas. Pan. Is't possible? no sooner got, but lost? The devil take Antenor! the young prince will go mad. Pan. How now, how now? how go maiden- A plague upon Antenor: I would, they had broke' I shall have such a life, Enter Cressida. Cres. O Troilus! Troilus. [Embracing him. Part. What a pair of spectacles is here! Let Cres. How now? What is the matter? Who me embrace too: O heart!-as the goodly saying was here? Pan. Ah, ah' Cres. Why sigh you so profoundly? where's Tell me, sweet uncle, what's the matter? Cres. O the gods!-what's the matter? Cres. Good uncle, I beseech you on my knees, I beseech you, what's the matter? Pan. Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone; thou art changed for Antenor: thou must to thy father, and be gone from Troilus; 'twill be his death; 'twill be his bane; he cannot bear it. Cres. O you immortal gods!-I will not go. Cres. I will not, uncle: I have forgot my father; Drawing all things to it.-I'll go in, and weep ;- Cres. Tear my bright hair, and scratch my praised cheeks, is, o heart, o heavy heart, where he answers again, Because thou canst not ease thy smart, By friendship, nor by speaking. Pan. Ay, ay, ay, ay; 'tis too plain a case. Cres. What, and from Troilus too! Our lock'd embrasures, strangles our dear vows Crack my clear voice with sobs, and break my heart Par. It is great morning; and the hour prefix'd And haste her to the purpose. Tro. Ene. [Within.] My lord! is the lady ready? Cries, Come! to him that instantly must die.- Walk in to her house; or my heart will be blown up by the root! I'll bring her to the Grecian presently: A priest, there offering to it his own heart. [Exit. Par. I know what 'tis to love; And 'would, as I shall pity, I could help!- [Exeunt. The grief is fine, full, perfect, that I taste, And violenteth in a sense as strong [Exit Pandarus. Cres. I must then to the Greeks? Tro. Hear me, my love: Be thou but true of heart, Cres. I true! how now? what wicked deem is this? Tro. Nay, we must use expostulation kindly, I speak not, be thou true, as fearing thee; As that which causeth it: How can I moderate it? But be thon true, say I, to fashion in If I could temporize with my affection, No more my grief, in such a precious loss. Enter Troilus. Pan. Here, here, here he comes.-Ah, sweet ducks! (1) Sense or feeling of relationship. (2) Sealed. | VOL. II. To give thee nightly visitation. O heavens !-be true again? I'll answer to my lust: And know you, lord, Tro. Come, to the port.-I'll tell thee, Diomed, They're loving, well compos'd, with gifts of nature This brave shall oft make thee to hide thy head.— flowing, And swelling o'er with arts and exercise; How novelty may move, and parts with person, (Which I beseech you, call a virtuous sin,) Cres. O heavens! you love me not. nant: Lady, give me your hand; and, as we walk, Par. Hark! Hector's trumpet. Jne. Par. 'Tis Troilus' fault: Come, come, to field Dei. Let us make ready straight. Ene. Yea, with a bridegroom's fresh alacrity, But I can tell, that in each grace of these With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare. Enter Æneas, Paris, Antenor, Deiphobus, and Welcome, sir Diomed! here is the lady, You shall be mistress, and command him wholly. I charge thee, use her well, even for my charge; Dio. Lists set out. Anticipating time with starting courage. Ajax. Come, stretch thy chest, and let thy eyes spout blood; Thou blow'st for Hector. Ulyss. No truniper answers. [Trumpet sounds 'Tis but early days. Agam. Is not yon Diomed, with Calchas' daughter? He rises on the toe: that spirit of his Enter Diomed, with Cressida. Even sne. Nest. Our general doth salute you with a kiss "Twere better she were kiss'd in general. Achil. I'll take that winter from your lips, fair Achilles bids you welcome. Men. I had good argument for kissing once. For wnich we lose our heads, to gild his horns. O, this is trim! Ulyss. I do desire it. Why, beg then. O, these encounters, so glib of tongue, [Trumpet within. Yonder comes the troop. Enter Hector armed; Æneas, Troilus, and other Ene. Hail, all the state of Greece! what shall be done To him that victory commands? Or do you purpose, Re-enter Diomed. Ağam. Here is sir Diomed:-Go, gentle knight, Ulyss. The youngest son of Priam, a true knight; [Alarum. Hector and Ajax fight. Agam. They are in action. Awake thee! Agam. His blows are well dispos'd:-there, Hector, thou sleep'st; [Trumpets cease. Ajax! Dio. You must no more. Ene. Princes, enough, so please you. Ajax. I am not warm yet, let us fight again. Dio. As Hector pleases. Hect. Why then, will I no more :Thou art, great lord, my father's sister's son, A cousin-german to great Priam's seed; The obligation of our blood forbids A gory emulation 'twixt us twain: Were thy commixion Greek and Trojan so, That thou could'st sav- -This hand is Grecian all, And this is Trojan; the sinews of this leg All Greek, and this all Troy; my mother's blood Runs on the dexter cheek, and this sinister10 Bounds-in my father's; by Jove's multipotent, Thou should'st not bear from me a Greekish member Wherein my sword had not impressure made of our rank feud: But the just gods gainsay, That any drop thou borrow'st from thy mother, My sacred aunt, should by my mortal sword Be drain'd! Let me embrace thee, Ajax : By him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms; Hector would have them fall upon him thus: Ene. Therefore Achilles: But, whate'er, know Cousin, all honour to thee! Pursue each other; or shall they be divided Agam. Which way would Hector have it? Ene. Achil this; If not Achilles, nothing. In the extremity of great and little, Valour and pride excel themselves in Hector; The other blank as nothing. Weigh him well, (1) Motion. (2) Breathing, exercise. (3) Stops. Ajax. sides, (7) Explain his character. (8) Bloody. |