Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

tine craft of thy caduceus; if ye take not that little little less than little wit from them that they have! which short-armed ignorance itself knows is so abundant scarce, it will not in circumvention deliver a fly from a spider, without drawing their massy irons, and cutting the web. After this, the vengeance on the whole camp! or, rather, the boneache! for that, methinks, is the curse dependent on those that war for a placket. I have said my prayers: and devil, envy, say Amen.-What, ho! my lord Achilles !

Enter Patroclus.

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

Ther. If I could have remembered a gilt counterfeit, thou wouldest not have 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 revenue! heaven bless thee from a tutor, and discipline come not near thee! Let thy blood? be thy direction till thy death! then if she, that lays thee out, says-thou art a fair corse, I'll be sworn and sworn upon't, she never shrouded any but lazars.3 Amen.-Where's Achilles?

Patr. What, art thou devout? wast thou in prayer?

Ther. Ay; The heavens hear me !

Enter Achilles.

Achil. Who's there?

Patr. Thersites, my lord.

Achil. Where, where?-Art thou come? Why, my cheese, my digestion, why hast thou not served thyself in to my table so many meals? Come; what's Agamemnon?

Ther. Thy commander, Achilles;-Then tell me, Patroclus, what's Achilles?

Patr. Thy lord, Thersites; Then tell me, I pray thee, what's thyself?

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

Patr. Thou mayest tell, that knowest.
Achil. O, tell, tell.

Ther. I'll decline the whole question. Agamem-
non commands Achilles; Achilles is my lord; I am
Patroclus' knower; and Patroclus is a fool.
Patr. You rascal!

Ther. Peace, fool; I have not done.
Achil. He is a privileged man.-Proceed, Ther-

sites.

Ther. Agamemnon is a fool; Achilles is a fool; Thersites is a fool; and, as aforesaid, Patroclus is a fool.

Achil. Derive this; come.

Ther. Agamemnon is a fool to offer to command Achilles; Achilles is a fool to be commanded of Agamemnon; Thersites is a fool to serve such a fool; and Patroclus is a fool positive.

Patr. Why am I a fool?

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

Ther. Here is such patchery, such juggling, and such knavery! all the argument is, a cuckold, and a whore; A good quarrel, to draw emulous4 factions, and bleed to death upon. Now the dry serpigo on the subject! and war, and lechery, confound all! [Exit.

Agam. Where is Achilles?

Patr. Within his tent; but ill-dispos'd, my lord. Agam. Let it be known to him, that we are here. He shent our messengers; and we lay by Our appertainments, visiting of him: Let him be told so; lest, perchance, he think We dare not move the question of our place, Or know not what we are. Patr.

I shall say so to him. [Exit. Ulyss. We saw him at the opening of his tent; He is not sick.

Ajax. Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart: you may call it melancholy, if you will favour the man; but, by my head, 'tis pride: But why, why? let him show us a cause.-A word, my lord.

[Takes Agamemnon aside.

Nest. What moves Ajax thus to bay at him?
Ulyss. Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him.
Nest. Who? Thersites?
Ulyss. He.

Nest. Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost his argument.8

Ulyss. No, you see, he is his argument, that has his argument; Achilles.

Nest. All the better; their fraction is more our wish, than their faction: But it was a strong composure, a fool could disunite.

Ulyss. The amity, that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie. Here comes Patroclus. Re-enter Patroclus.

Nest. No Achilles with him.

Ulyss. The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy: his legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure.

Patr. Achilles bids me say-he is much sorry, If any thing more than your sport and pleasure Did move your greatness, and this noble state, To call upon him; he hopes, it is no other, But, for your health and your digestion's sake, An after-dinner's breath.9

Agam.

Hear you, Patroclus;--We are too well acquainted with these answers: But his evasion, wing'd thus swift with scorn, Cannot outfly our apprehensions. Much attribute he hath; and much the reason Why we ascribe it to him: yet all his virtues,--Not virtuously on his own part beheld,Do, in our eyes, begin to lose their gloss; Yea, like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish, Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell him, We come to speak with him: And you shall not sin, If you do say-we think him over-proud, And under-honest; in self-assumption greater,

Ther. Make that demand of the prover.-It suf-Than in the note of judgment; and worthier than fices me, thou art. Look you, who comes here?

[blocks in formation]

himself

Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on;
Disguise the holy strength of their command,
And underwrite12 in an observing kind
His humorous predominance; yea, watch
His pettish lunes, 13 his ebbs, his flows, as if

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

Agam. No question.

Ajax. Will you subscribe his thought, and sayhe is?

Agam. No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as valiant, as wise, no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether more tractable.

Ajax. Why should a man be proud? How doth pride grow? I know not what pride is.

Agam. Your mind's the clearer, Ajax, and your virtues the fairer. He that is proud, eats up himself: pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle; and whatever praises itself but in the deed, devours the deed in the praise.

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

Nest. And yet he loves himself: Is it not strange? [Aside.

Re-enter Ulysses.

Ulyss. Achilles will not to the field to-morrow.
Agam. What's his excuse?
Ulyss.
He doth rely on none;
But carries on the stream of his dispose,
Without observance or respect of any,
In will peculiar and in self-admission.

Agam. Why will he not, upon our fair request,
Untent his person, and share the air with us?

Ulyss. Things small as nothing, for request's sake only,

[blocks in formation]

Chides blackness.

Ajax.

I will let his humours blood.

Agam. He'll be physician, that should be the
patient.
Ajax. An all men

Were o'
Ulyss.

[Aside.

my mind,

Wit would be out of fashion.

[Aside.

Ajax. He should not bear it so,

He should eat swords first: Shall pride carry it?
Nest. An 'twould, you'd carry
half. [Aside.
Ulyss.
He'd have ten shares.

[Aside.

Ajax. I'll knead him, I will make him supple :Nest. He's not yet thorough warm: forces him with praises:

like.

Pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry. [Aside.
Ulyss. My lord, you feed too much on this dis-
[To Agamemnon.
Nest. O noble general, do not do so.
Dio. You must prepare to fight without Achilles.
Ulyss. Why, 'tis this naming of him does him
harm.

He makes important: Possess'd he is with greatness;|| Here is a man-But 'tis before his face;

And speaks not to himself, but with a pride
That quarrels at self-breath: imagin'd worth
Holds in his blood such swoln and hot discourse,
That, 'twixt his mental and his active parts,
Kingdom'd Achilles in commotion rages,
And batters down himself: What should I say?
He is so plaguy proud, that the death tokens of it
Cry-No recovery.

Agam.
Let Ajax go to him.-
Dear lord, go you and greet him in his tent:
'Tis said, he holds you well; and will be led,
At your request, a little from himself.

Ulyss. O Agamemnon, let it not be so !
We'll consecrate the steps that Ajax makes
When they go from Achilles: Shall the proud lord,
That bastes his arrogance with his own seam;2
And never suffers matter of the world
Enter his thoughts,-save such as do revolve
And ruminate himself,-shall he be worshipp'd
Of that we hold an idol more than he?
No, this thrice-worthy and right valiant lord
Must not so stale his palm, nobly acquir'd;
Nor, by my will, assubjugate his merit,
As amply titled as Achilles is,

By going to Achilles :

I will be silent.

Nest.

Wherefore should you so?

He is not emulous,7 as Achilles is.

Ulyss. Know the whole world, he is as valiant. Ajax. A whoreson dog, that shall palter thus with us!

I would, he were a Trojan!

Nest.

[blocks in formation]

What a vice

If he were proud?

Dio. Or covetous of praise?

Ulyss

Ay, or surly borne ?

Dio. Or strange, or self-affected?
Ulyss. Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of

[blocks in formation]

(1) Approbation.

THOMSON.

[blocks in formation]

(5) Comb or curry.
(7) Envious. (8) Trifle.

[blocks in formation]

Nest. Ay, my good son.

Dio.

Be rul'd by him, lord Ajax. Ulyss. There is no tarrying here; the hart Achilles

Keeps thicket. Please it our great general
To call together all his state of war;

Fresh kings are come to Troy: To-morrow,
We must with all our main of power stand fast:
And here's a lord,—come knights from east to west,
And cull their flower, Ajax shall cope the best.
Agam. Go we to council. Let Achilles sleep:
Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw
deep.
[Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I-Troy. A room in Priam's palace.

Enter Pandarus and a Servant.

Pan. Friend! you! pray you, a word: Do not you follow the young lord Paris?

Serv. Ay, sir, when he goes before me.
Pan. You do depend upon him, I mean.
Serv. Sir, I do depend upon the lord.

Pan. You do depend upon a noble gentleman;

I must needs praise him.

Serv. The lord be praised!

Pan. You know me, do you not?
Serv. 'Faith, sir, superficially.

Pan. Friend, know me better; I am the lord Pandarus.

Serv. I hope, I shall know your honour better. Pan. I do desire it.

Serv. You are in the state of grace.

[Music within.

Pan. Grace! not so, friend; honour and lordship are my titles:-What music is this?

Serv. I do but partly know, sir; it is music in

parts.

Pan. Know you the musicians?

Serv. Wholly, sir.

Pan. Who play they to?

Serv. To the hearers, sir.

Pan. At whose pleasure, friend?

Serv. At mine, sir, and theirs that love music. Pan. Command, I mean, friend.

Serv. Who shall I command, sir?

Pan. Friend, we understand not one another; I am too courtly, and thou art too cunning: At whose request do these men play?

Serv. That's to't, indeed, sir: Marry, sir, at the request of Paris my lord, who is there in person; with him, the mortal Venus, the heart-blood of beauty, love's invisible soul,

Pan. Who, my cousin Cressida?

Serv. No, sir, Helen; Could you not find out that by her attributes?

Pan. It should seem, fellow, that thou hast not seen the lady Cressida. I come to speak with (1) Titles. (2) Stream, rivulet. (3) Boils.

Paris from the prince Troilus: I will make a complimental assault upon him, for my business seeths.3 Serv. Sodden business! there's a stewed phrase, indeed!

Enter Paris and Helen, attended.

Pan. Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair company! fair desires, in all fair measure, fairly guide them! especially to you, fair queen! fair thoughts be your fair pillow!

Helen. Dear lord, you are full of fair words. Pan. You speak your fair pleasure, sweet queen.-Fair prince, here is good broken music.

Par. You have broke it, cousin and, by my life, you shall make it whole again; you shall piece it out with a piece of your performance :-Nell, he is full of harmony.

Pan. Truly, lady, no. Helen. O, sir,

Pan. Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude. Par. Well said, my lord! well, you say so in fits.4 Pan. I have business to my lord, dear queen:My lord, will you vouchsafe me a word?

Helen. Nay, this shall not hedge us out: we'll hear you sing, certainly.

Pan. Well, sweet queen, you are pleasant with me.-But (marry) thus, my lord,-My dear lord, and most esteemed friend, your brother Troilus

Helen. My lord Pandarus; honey-sweet lord,-himself most affectionately to you. Pan. Go to, sweet queen, go to:-commends

Helen. You shall not bob us out of our melody; If you do, our melancholy upon your head!

Pan. Sweet queen, sweet queen; that's a sweet queen, i'faith.

Helen. And to make a sweet lady sad, is a sour offence.

Pan. Nay, that shall not serve your turn; that shall it not, in truth, la. Nay, I care not for such words; no, no.-And, my lord, he desires you, that, if the king call for him at supper, you will make his excuse.

Helen. My lord Pandarus,

Pan. What says my sweet queen,-my very very sweet queen?

Par. What exploit's in hand? where sups he to night?

Helen. Nay, but my lord,———

Pan. What says my sweet queen ?-My cousin will fall out with you. You must not know where

he sups.

Par. I'll lay my life, with my disposer Cressida. Pan. No, no, no such matter, you are wide;5 come, your disposer is sick.

Par. Well, I'll make excuse.

Pan. Ay, good my lord. Why should you say— Cressida? no, your poor disposer's sick.

Par. I spy.

Pan. You spy! what do you spy?---Come, give me an instrument.-Now, sweet queen. Helen. Why, this is kindly done.

Pan. My niece is horribly in love with a thing you have, sweet queen.

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

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

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

Pan. Come, come, I'll hear no more of this; I'll sing you a song now.

(4) Parts of a song.

(5) Wide of your mark.

Helen. Ay, ay, pr'ythee now. By my troth, sweet lord, thou hast a fine forehead.

Pan. Ay, you may, you may.

Pan. Have you seen my cousin?

Tro. No, Pandarus: stalk about her door, Like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks

Helen. Let thy song be love: this love will un- Staying for waftage. O, be thou my Charon,

do us all. O Cupid, Cupid, Cupid!

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

And give me swift transportance to those fields,
Where I may wallow in the lily beds

Par. Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but love. Propos'd for the deserver! O gentle Pandarus,

Pan. In good troth, it begins so:

Love, love, nothing but love, still more!

For, oh, love's bow Shoots buck and doe; The shaft confounds, Not that it wounds But tickles still the sore.

These lovers cry-Oh! oh! they die!

Yet that which seems the wound to kill, Doth turn oh! oh! to ha! ha! he!

So dying love lives still:

Oh! oh! a while, but ha! ha! ha! Oh! oh! groans out for ha! ha! ha! Hey ho!

Helen. In love, i'faith, to the very tip of the nose. Par. He eats nothing but doves, love; and that breeds hot blood, and hot blood begets hot thoughts, and hot thoughts beget hot deeds, and hot deeds is love.

Pan. Is this the generation of love? hot blood, hot thoughts, and hot deeds?-Why, they are vipers: Is love a generation of vipers? Sweet lord, who's a-field to-day?

Par. Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the gallantry of Troy: I would fain have armed to-night, but my Nell would not have it so. How chance my brother Troilus went not?

Helen. He hangs the lip at something;-you know all, lord Pandarus.

Pan. Not I, honey-sweet queen.-I long to hear how they sped to-day.-You'll remember your brother's excuse.

Par. To a hair.

niece.

[Exit.

Pan. Farewell, sweet queen.
Helen. Commend me to your
Pan. I will, sweet queen.
[A retreat sounded.
Par. They are come from field: let us to Pri-
am's hall,

To greet the warriors. Sweet Helen, I must woo you
To help unarm our Hector: his stubborn buckles,
With these your white enchanting fingers touch'd,
Shall more obey, than to the edge of steel,

Or force of Greekish sinews; you shall do more
Than all the island kings, disarm great Hector.
Helen. "Twill make us proud to be his servant,
Paris:

Yea, what he shall receive of us in duty,
Give us more palm in beauty than we have;
Yea, overshines ourself.

From Cupid's shoulder pluck his painted wings,
And fly with me to Cressid!

Pan. Walk here i'the orchard, I'll bring her
straight.
[Exit Pandarus.
Tro. I am giddy; expectation whirls me round.
The imaginary relish is so sweet

That it enchants my sense; What will it be,
When that the watry palate tastes indeed
Love's thrice-reputed nectar? death, I fear me;
Swooning destruction; or some joy too fine,
Too subtle-potent, tun'd too sharp in sweetness,
For the capacity of my ruder powers:

I fear it much; and I do fear besides,
That I shall lose distinction in my joys;
As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps
The
enemy flying.

Re-enter Pandarus.

Pan. She's making her ready, she'll come straight: you must be witty now. She does so blush, and with a sprite: I'll fetch her. It is the prettiest fetches her wind so short, as if she were frayed villain :-she fetches her breath as short as a newsparrow. [Exit Pandarus. Tro. Even such a passion doth embrace my bosom :

ta'en

My heart beats thicker than a feverous pulse;
And all my powers do their bestowing lose,
The
Like vassalage at unawares encount'ring
eye of majesty.

Enter Pandarus and Cressida.

Pan. Come, come, what need you blush? shame's a baby.-Here she is now: swear the oaths now to her, that you have sworn to me.-What, are you gone again? you must be watched ere you be made tame, must you? Come your ways, come your ways; an you draw backward, we'll put you i'the fills,1-Why do you not speak to her?-Come, draw this curtain, and let's see your picture. Alas the day, how loath you are to offend day-light! an 'twere dark, you'd close sooner. So, so; rub on, and kiss the mistress.2 How now? a kiss in feefarm? build there, carpenter; the air is sweet. Nay, you shall fight your hearts out, ere I part you. The falcon as the tercel,3 for all the ducks i'the river: go to, go to.

Tro. You have bereft me of all words, lady.

Pan. Words pay no debts, give her deeds: but she'll bereave you of the deeds too, if she call your activity in question. What, billing again? Here's -In witness whereof the parties interchangeably-Come in, come in; I'll go get a fire. [Exit Pan. Cres. Will walk in, my you lord? Tro. O Cressida, how often have I wished me thus?

Par. Sweet, above thought I love thee. [Exe. SCENE II-The same. Pandarus' orchard. Enter Pandarus and a Servant, meeting. Pan. How now? where's thy master? at my Cres. Wished, my lord?-The gods grant!-O cousin Cressida's? Serv. No, sir; he stays for you to conduct him my lord! thither.

Enter Troilus.

Tro. What should they grant? what makes this pretty abruption? What too curious dreg espies my sweet lady in the fountain of our love?

Pan. O, here he comes.-How now, how now? Cres. More dregs than water, if my fears have Tro. Sirrah, walk off. eyes. [Exit Servant. Tro. Fears make devils cherubins; they never see truly.

(1) Shafts of a carriage. (2) The allusion is to bowling; what is now called the jack was formerly termed the mistress.

(3) The tercel is the male and the falcon the fe male hawk.

Cres. Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds safer footing than blind reason stumbling without fear: To fear the worst, oft cures the worst.

Tro. O, let my lady apprehend no fear: in all Cupid's pageant there is presented no monster. Cres. Nor nothing monstrous neither?

Tro. Nothing, but our undertakings; when we vow to weep seas, live in fire, eat rocks, tame tigers; thinking it harder for our mistress to devise imposition enough, than for us to undergo any difficulty imposed. This is the monstruosity in love, lady,that the will is infinite, and the execution confined; that the desire is boundless, and the act a slave to limit.

Cres. They say, all lovers swear more performance than they are able, and yet reserve an ability that they never perform; vowing more than the perfection of ten, and discharging less than the tenth part of one. They that have the voice of lions, and the act of hares, are they not monsters?

Tro. Are there such? such are not we: Praise us as we are tasted, allow us as we prove; our head shall go bare, till merit crown it: no perfection in reversion shall have a praise in present: we will not name desert, before his birth; and, being born, his addition shall be humble. Few words to fair faith: Troilus shall be such to Cressid, as what envy can say worst, shall be a mock for his truth; and what truth can speak truest, not truer than Troilus. Cres. Will you walk in, my lord?

Re-enter Pandarus.

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

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

Pan. 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, chide me for it.

Tro. You know now your hostages; your uncle's word, and my firm faith.

Pan. Nay, I'll give my word for her too; our kindred, though they be long ere they are wooed, they are constant, being won: they are burs, I can tell you they'll stick where they are thrown. Cres. Boldness comes to me now, and brings me

heart :

Prince Troilus, I have lov'd you night and day
For many weary months.

Tro. Why was my Cressid then so hard to win?
Cres. Hard to seem won; but I was won, my lord,|
With the first glance that ever-Pardon me ;-
If I confess much, you will play the tyrant.
I love you now; but not, till now, so much
But I might master it :-in faith, I lie;

My thoughts were like unbridled children, grown
Too headstrong for their mother: See, we fools!
Why have I blabb'd? who shall be true to us,
When we are so unsecret to ourselves?
But, though I lov'd you well, I woo'd you not;
And yet, good faith, I wish'd myself a man;
Or that we women had men's privilege
Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue;
For, in this rapture, I shall surely speak
The thing I shall repent. See, see, your silence,
Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws
My very soul of counsel: Stop my mouth.

Tro. And shall, albeit sweet music issues thence.
Pan. Pretty, i'faith.

Cres. My lord, I do beseech you, pardon me ; 'Twas not my purpose, thus to beg a kiss:

[blocks in formation]

I am asham'd ;-O heavens! what have I done?→
For this time will I take my leave, my lord.
Tro. Your leave, sweet Cressid?

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

What offends you, lady?

Cres. Pray you, content you. Tro. Cres. Sir, mine own company. Tro. Yourself. Cres.

Let me go and try:

You cannot shun

I have a kind of self resides with you;
But an unkind self, that itself will leave,
To be another's fool. I would be gone:
Where is my wit? I know not what I speak.
Tro. Well know they what they speak, that
speak so wisely.

Cres. Perchance, my lord, I show more craft than love;

And fell so roundly to a large confession,
To angle for your thoughts: But you are wise;
Or else you love not; For to be wise, and love,
Exceeds man's might; that dwells with gods above.
Tro. O, that I thought it could be in a woman
(As, if it can, I will presume in you,)
To feed for aye2 her lamp and flames of love;
To keep her constancy in plight and youth,
Outliving beauty's outward, with a mind
That doth renew swifter than blood decays!
Or, that persuasion could but thus convince me,--
That my integrity and truth to you
Might be affronted3 with the match and weight
Of such a winnow'd purity in love;
How were I then uplifted! but, alas,
I am as true as truth's simplicity,
And simpler than the infancy of truth.
Cres. In that I'll war with you.
Tro.
When right with right wars who shall be most right!
True swains in love shall, in the world to come,
Approve their truths by Troilus: when their rhymes,
Full of protest, of oath, and big compare,4
Want similes, truth tir'd with iteration,-
As true as steel, as plantage to the moon,
As sun to day, as turtle to her mate,
As iron to adamant, as earth to the centre,--
Yet, after all comparisons of truth,
As truth's authentic author to be cited,
As true as Troilus shall crown up the verse,
And sanctify the numbers.

Cres.

O virtuous fight,

Prophet may you be!
If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth,
When time is old and hath forgot itself,
When water-drops have worn the stones of Troy,
And blind oblivion swallow'd cities up,
And mighty states characterless are grated
To dusty nothing; yet let memory,
From false to false, among false maids in love,
Upbraid my falsehood! when they have said-as
false

As air, as water, wind, or sandy earth,
As fox to lamb, as wolf to heifer's calf,
Pard to the hind, or stepdame to her son;
Yea, let them say, to stick the heart of falsehood,
As false as Cressid.

Pan. Go to, a bargain made: seal it, seal it; I'll be the witness.--Here I hold your hand; here, my cousin's. If ever you prove false one to another, since I have taken such pains to bring you together, let all pitiful goers-between be called to the world's end after my name, call them all-Pandars; let all inconstant men be Troiluses, all false

(4) Comparison. (5) Conclude it.

« AnteriorContinuar »