« AnteriorContinuar »
We'll answer it; The issue is embracement:-Ajax, farewell. Ajax. If I might in entreaties find success, (As seld1 I have the chance,) I would desire My famous cousin to our Grecian tents.
Dio. 'Tis Agamemnon's wish: and great Achilles Doth long to see unarm'd the valiant Hector.
Hect. Eneas, call my brother Troilus to me :
But for Achilles, my own searching eyes
Agam. Worthy of arms! as welcome as to one
And formless ruin of oblivion;
But in this extant moment, faith and troth,
Mock not, that I affect the untraded3 oath;
Hect. O, pardon; I offend.
Nest. I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft,||
ne. 'Tis the old Nestor.
Hect. Let me embrace thee, good old chronicle,
Nest. I would, my arms could match thee in
By this white beard, I'd fight with thee to-morrow.
Hect. I know your favour, lord Ulysses, well.
Ulyss. Sir, I foretold you then what would ensue :
I must not believe you :
(1) Seldom. (2) Imperial.
(3) Singular, not common. (4) Heretofore. (5) Fallen. (6) Laomedon. `(7) Observed.
So to him we leave it.
Achil I shall forestall thee, lord Ulysses, thou!--
Is this Achilles?
Achil. I am Achilles.
As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed,
Shall I destroy him; whether there, there, or there?
To answer such a question: Stand again:
Hect. I pray you, let us see you in the field; We have had peltingll wars, since you refus'd The Grecians' cause.
'To-night, all friends. Hect.
Thy hand upon that match. Agam. First, all you peers of Greece, go to my tent;
There in the full convivel we: afterwards,
Ulyss. At Menelaus' tent, most princely Troilus:
Tro. Shall I, sweet lord, be bound to you so Away, Patroclus.
[Exeunt Achil. and Patr. Ther. With too much blood, and too little brain, these two may run mad; but if with too much brain, and too little blood, they do, I'll be a curer of madmen. Here's Agamemnon,-an honest fellow enough, and one that loves quails 5 but he has not so much brain as ear-wax: And the goodly transformation of Jupiter there, his brother, the bull,-the primitive statue, and oblique memorial of cuckolds 6 a thrifty shoeing-horn in a chain, hanging at his brother's leg,-to what form, but that he is, should wit larded with malice, and malice forced' with wit, turn him to? To an ass, were nothing; he is both ass and ox: to an ox, were nothing; he is both ox and ass. To be a dog, a mule, a cat, a fitchew,8 a toad, a lizard, an owl, a puttock, or a herring without a roe, I would not
SCENE I.-The Grecian camp. Before Achilles' care: but to be Menelaus, -I would conspire against destiny. Ask me not what I would be, if I were not Thersites; for I care not to be the louse of a lazar,9 so I were not Menelaus.-Hey day! spirits and fires!
tent. Enter Achilles and Patroclus.
After we part from Agamemnon's tent,
Tro. O, sir, to such as boasting show their scars,
Achil. I'll heat his blood with Greekish wine
Ther. Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy.
Ther. The surgeon's box, or the patient's wound. Patr. Well said, Adversity !3 and what need these tricks?
Ther. Pr'ythee be silent, boy; I profit not by thy talk thou art thought to be Achilles' male varlet.
Ther. No? why art thou then exasperate, thou idle immaterial skein of sleive4 silk, thou green sarcenet flap for a sore eye, thou tassel of a prodigal's purse, thou? Ah, how the poor world is pestered with such water-flies; diminutives of nature! Patr. Out, gall!
Achil. My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite
Patr. Male varlet, you rogue! what's that? Ther. Why, his masculine whore. Now the rotten diseases of the south, the guts-griping, ruptures, catarrhs, loads o'gravel i'the back, lethargies, cold palsies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten livers, wheezing lungs, bladders full of imposthume, sciaticas, limekilns i'the palm, incurable bone-ache, and the rivelled fee-simple of the tetter, take and take again such preposterous discoveries!
Patr. Why, thou damnable box of envy, thou, what meanest thou to curse thus?
Ther. Do I curse thee?
Patr. Why, no, you ruinous butt; you whoreson indistinguishable cur, no.
Enter Hector, Troilus, Ajax, Agamemnon, Ulysses,
There, where we see the lights.
I trouble you.
Ajax. No, not a whit.
Here comes himself to guide you.
Achil. Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, prin-
Agam. So now, fair prince of Troy, I bid good night.
To Calchas' tent; I'll keep you company.
[Aside to Troilus.
Tro. Sweet sir, you honour me.
And so good night. [Exit Diomed; Ulyss. and Tro. following. Achil. Come, come, enter my tent.
[Exeunt Achilles, Hector, Ajax, and Nestor. Ther. That same Diomed's a false-hearted rogue, a most unjust knave; I will no more trust him when he leers, than I will a serpent when he hisses: he will spend his mouth, and promise, like Brabler the hound; but when he performs, astronomers foretell it; it is prodigious, there will come some change; the sun borrows of the moon, when Diomed keeps his word. I will rather leave to see Hector, than not to dog him: they say, he keeps a Trojan drab, and uses the traitor Calchas' tent: I'll after.-Nothing but lechery! all incontinent|| I will be patient. varlets!
[Exit. SCENE II.-The same. Before Calchas' tent. Enter Diomedes.
Dio. What, are you up here, ho? speak.
Dio. Diomed.-Calchas, I think.—Where's your daughter?
Cal. [Within.] She comes to you.
Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself
Now, good my lord, go off:
You have not patience; come.
Tro. I pray you, stay; by hell, and all hell's
will not speak a word.
O wither'd truth!
Doth that grieve thee? how now, lord?
Guardian!-why, Greek! Dio. Pho, pho! adieu; you palter.3
She strokes his cheek!
Cres. In faith, I do not; come hither once again.
Ther. How the devil luxury, with his fat rump and potatoe finger, tickles these together! Fry, lechery, fry!
Dio. But will you then?
Cres. In faith, I will, la; never trust me else,
Ulyss. You have sworn patience.
Ther. Now the pledge; now, now, now!
He loved me-O false wench!-Give't me again.
No matter, now I have't again.
Of thee, and me; and sighs, and takes my glove,
As I kiss thee.-Nay, do not snatch it from me;
Cres. You shall not have it, Diomed; 'faith you
Dio. I will have this; Whose was it?
'Tis no matter,
Dio, Come, tell me whose it was.
Cres. 'Twas one's that loved me better than you If sanctimony be the gods' delight,
But, now you have it, take it.
Dio. To-morrow will I wear it on my helm; And grieve his spirit that dares not challenge it. Tro. Wert thou the devil, and wor'st it on thy horn,
This was not she. O madness of discourse,
It should be challeng'd.
it is not;
Cres. Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis past ;-And yet Admits no orifice for a point, as subtle
I will not keep my word.
Dio. What, shall I come? the hour?
Unless she said, My mind is now turn'd whore.
If souls guide vows, if vows be sanctimony,
And with another knot, five-finger-tied,
Ulyss. May worthy Troilus be half attach'd
Tro. Ay, Greek; and that shall be divulged well,
Ther. He'll tickle it for his concupy.
Ene. I have been seeking you this hour, my lard:
Farewell, revolted fair!—and, Diomed,
[Exeunt Troilus, Eneas, and Ulysses. Ther. 'Would, I could meet that rogue Diomed! I would croak like a raven; I would bode, I would bode. Patroclus will give me any thing for the intelligence of this whore: the parrot will not do more for an almond, than he for a commodious drab. Lechery, lechery; still, wars and lechery; nothing else holds fashion: A burning devil take them! [Exit. SCENE III-Troy. Before Priam's palace.
Enter Hector and Andromache. And. When was my lord so much ungently temper'd,
To stop his ears against admonishment?
Hect. No more, I say.
Where is my brother Hector? And. Here, sister; arm'd, and bloody in intent: Consort with me in loud and dear petition, Pursue we him on knees; for I have dream'd Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night Hath nothing been but shapes and forms slaughter. Cas. O, it is true. Hect.
Ho! bid my trumpet sound! Cas. No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet
Hect. Begone, I say: the gods have heard me
Cas. The gods are deaf to hot and peevish! vows; They are polluted offerings, more abhorr'd Than spotted liver in the sacrifice.
And O! be persuaded: Do not count it holy To hurt by being just: it is as lawful, For we would give much, to use violent thefts, And rob in the behalf of charity.
Cas. It is the purpose that makes strong the vow; But vows, to every purpose, must not hold: Unarm, sweet Hector.
Hect. Hold you still, I say; Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate: Life every man holds dear; but the dear man Holds honour far more precious dear3 than life.— Enter Troilus.
How now, young man? mean'st thou to fight today?
And. Cassandra, call my father to persuade. [Exit Cassandra. Hect. No, 'faith, young Troilus; doff2 thy harness, youth,
Come, Hector, come, go back: Thy wife hath dream'd; thy mother hath had visions;
Cassandra doth foresee; and I myself
I am to-day i'the vein of chivalry:
Tro. Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you, Which better fits a lion, than a man.
Hect. What vice is that, good Troilus? chide me for it.
Tro. When many times the captive Grecians fall, Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword, You bid them rise, and live.
Hect. O, 'tis fair play.
(1) Foolish. VOL. II.
Tro. For the love of all the gods, Let's leave the hermit Pity with our mother; And when we have our armours buckled on, The venom'd vengeance ride upon our swords; Spur them to ruthful4 work, rein them from ruth.5 Hect. Fie, savage, fie!
Nor you, my brother, with your true sword drawn,
Hector, then 'tis wars. Hect. Troilus, I would not have you fight Tro. Who should withhold me? Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars Beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire; Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees, 'Their eyes o'ergalled with recourse of tears;
(3) Put off.
Re-enter Cassandra, with Priam.
Cas. Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him fast: He is thy crutch; now, if thou lose thy stay, Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee, Fall all together. Pri.
Pri. But thou shalt not go: Hect. I must not break my faith. You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sir, Let me not shame respect; but give me leave To take that course by your consent and voice, Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam. Cas. O Priam, yield not to him. And, Do not, dear father: Hect. Andromache, I am offended with you: Upon the love you bear me, get you in.
[Exit Andromache. Tro. This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl, Makes all these bodements. Cas. O farewell, dear Hector. Look, how thou diest! look, how thy eye turns pale!
Look, how thy wounds do bleed at many vents!
Cas. Farewell.-Yet, soft:-Hector, I take my leave:
Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive. [Ex. Hect. You are amaz'd, my liege, at her exclaim: Go in, and cheer the town: we'll forth, and fight; Do deeds worth praise, and tell you them at night. Pri. Farewell: the gods with safety stand about thee!
[Exeunt severally Priam and Hector. Alarums. Tro. They are at it; hark! Proud Diomed, be lieve,
I come to lose my arm, or win my sleeve.
Pan. Do you hear, my lord? do you hear?
Pan. Here's a letter from yon' poor girl.
Pan. A whoreson ptisic, a whoreson rascally ptisic so troubles me, and the foolish fortune of this girl; and what one thing, what another, that I shall leave you one o'these days: And I have a rheum to-day.in mine eyes too; and such an ache in my bones, that, unless a man were cursed, I cannot tell what to think on't.-What says she there?
As Troilus is going out, enter, from the other side, Pandarus.