Report
Please switch to other image servers if images don't load. If still doesn't work, report error to us to fix it.
Server 1 Server 2 Server 3

ACHILLES. Shall Ajax fight with Hector?

PATROCLUS. Ay, and perhaps receive much honour by him.

ACHILLES. I see my reputation is at stake; My fame is shrewdly gor'd.

PATROCLUS. O, then, beware: Those wounds heal ill that men do give themselves; Omission to do what is necessary Seals a commission to a blank of danger; And danger, like an ague, subtly taints Even then when they sit idly in the sun.

ACHILLES. Go call Thersites. .h.i.ther, sweet Patroclus.



I'll send the fool to Ajax, and desire him T' invite the Troyan lords, after the combat, To see us here unarm'd. I have a woman's longing, An appet.i.te that I am sick withal, To see great Hector in his weeds of peace; To talk with him, and to behold his visage, Even to my full of view.

Enter THERSITES

A labour sav'd!

THERSITES. A wonder!

ACHILLES. What?

THERSITES. Ajax goes up and down the field asking for himself.

ACHILLES. How so?

THERSITES. He must fight singly to-morrow with Hector, and is so prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling that he raves in saying nothing.

ACHILLES. How can that be?

THERSITES. Why, 'a stalks up and down like a peac.o.c.k-a stride and a stand; ruminaies like an 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' th' combat, he'll break't himself in vainglory. 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's grown a very land fish, languageless, a monster. A plague of opinion! A man may wear it on both sides, like leather jerkin.

ACHILLES. Thou must be my amba.s.sador to him, Thersites.

THERSITES. Who, I? Why, he'll answer n.o.body; he professes not answering. Speaking is for beggars: he wears his tongue in's arms. I will put on his presence. Let Patroclus make his demands to me, you shall see the pageant of Ajax.

ACHILLES. To him, Patroclus. Tell him I humbly desire the valiant Ajax to invite the most valorous Hector to come unarm'd to my tent; and to procure safe conduct for his person of the magnanimous and most ill.u.s.trious six-or-seven-times-honour'd Captain General of the Grecian army, et cetera, Agamemnon. Do this.

PATROCLUS. Jove bless great Ajax!

THERSITES. Hum!

PATROCLUS. I come from the worthy Achilles- THERSITES. Ha!

PATROCLUS. Who most humbly desires you to invite Hector to his tent- THERSITES. Hum!

PATROCLUS. And to procure safe conduct from Agamemnon.

THERSITES. Agamemnon!

PATROCLUS. Ay, my lord.

THERSITES. Ha!

PATROCLUS. What you say to't?

THERSITES. G.o.d buy you, with all my heart.

PATROCLUS. Your answer, sir.

THERSITES. If to-morrow be a fair day, by eleven of the clock it will go one way or other. Howsoever, he shall pay for me ere he has me.

PATROCLUS. Your answer, sir.

THERSITES. Fare ye well, with all my heart.

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

THERSITES. No, but he's out a tune thus. What music will be in him when Hector has knock'd out his brains I know not; but, I am sure, none; unless the fiddler Apollo get his sinews to make catlings on.

ACHILLES. Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight.

THERSITES. Let me carry another to his horse; for that's the more capable creature.

ACHILLES. My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirr'd; And I myself see not the bottom of it.

Exeunt ACHILLES and PATROCLUS THERSITES. Would the fountain of your mind were clear again, that I might water an a.s.s at it. I had rather be a tick in a sheep than such a valiant ignorance. Exit

>

ACT IV. SCENE 1.

Troy. A street

Enter, at one side, AENEAS, and servant with a torch; at another, PARIS, DEIPHOBUS, ANTENOR, DIOMEDES the Grecian, and others, with torches

PARIS. See, ho! Who is that there?

DEIPHOBUS. It is the Lord Aeneas.

AENEAS. Is the Prince there in person?

Had I so good occasion to lie long As you, Prince Paris, nothing but heavenly business Should rob my bed-mate of my company.

DIOMEDES. That's my mind too. Good morrow, Lord Aeneas.

PARIS. A valiant Greek, Aeneas -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.

AENEAS. Health to you, valiant sir, During all question of the gentle truce; But when I meet you arm'd, as black defiance As heart can think or courage execute.

DIOMEDES. 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.

AENEAS. 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.

DIOMEDES. We sympathise. Jove let Aeneas live, If to my sword his fate 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!

AENEAS. We know each other well.

DIOMEDES.We do; and long to know each other worse.

PARIS. This is the most despiteful'st gentle greeting The n.o.blest hateful love, that e'er I heard of.

What business, lord, so early?

AENEAS. I was sent for to the King; but why, I know not.

PARIS. His purpose meets you: 'twas to bring this Greek To Calchas' house, and there to render him, For the enfreed Antenor, the fair Cressid.

Let's have your company; or, if you please, Haste there before us. I constantly believe- Or rather call my thought a certain knowledge- My brother Troilus lodges there to-night.

Rouse him and give him note of our approach, With the whole quality wherefore; I fear We shall be much unwelcome.

AENEAS. That I a.s.sure you: Troilus had rather Troy were borne to Greece Than Cressid borne from Troy.

PARIS. There is no help; The bitter disposition of the time Will have it so. On, lord; we'll follow you.

AENEAS. Good morrow, all. Exit with servant PARIS. And tell me, n.o.ble Diomed-faith, tell me true, Even in the soul of sound good-fellows.h.i.+p- Who in your thoughts deserves fair Helen best, Myself or Menelaus?

DIOMEDES. Both alike: He merits well to have her that doth seek her, Not making any scruple of her soilure, With such a h.e.l.l of pain and world of charge; And you as well to keep her that defend her, Not palating the taste of her dishonour, With such a costly loss of wealth and friends.

He like a puling cuckold would drink up The lees and dregs of a flat tamed piece; You, like a lecher, out of whorish loins Are pleas'd to breed out your inheritors.

Both merits pois'd, each weighs nor less nor more; But he as he, the heavier for a wh.o.r.e.

PARIS. You are too bitter to your country-woman.

DIOMEDES. She's bitter to her country. Hear me, Paris: For every false drop in her bawdy veins A Grecian's life hath sunk; for every scruple Of her contaminated carrion weight A Troyan hath been slain; since she could speak, She hath not given so many good words breath As for her Greeks and Troyans suff'red death.

PARIS. 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

ACT IV. SCENE 2.

Troy. The court of PANDARUS' house

Enter TROILUS and CRESSIDA

TROILUS. Dear, trouble not yourself; the morn is cold.

CRESSIDA. Then, sweet my lord, I'll call mine uncle down; He shall unbolt the gates.

TROILUS. Trouble him not; To bed, to bed! Sleep kill those pretty eyes, And give as soft attachment to thy senses As infants' empty of all thought!

CRESSIDA. Good morrow, then.

TROILUS. I prithee now, to bed.

CRESSIDA. Are you aweary of me?

TROILUS. 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.





CHAPTER DISCUSSION