by John Dryden
Enter Patroclus.
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.
Re-enter Menelaus.
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!
Ulys. Thank heaven, my lord, you’re of a gentle nature;
Praise him that got you, her that brought you forth;
But he, who taught you first the use of arms,
Let Mars divide eternity in two,
And give him half. I will not praise your wisdom,
Nestor shall do’t; but, pardon, father Nestor, —
Were you as green as Ajax, and your brain
Tempered like his, you never should excel him,
But be as Ajax is.
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 —
Troil. You have bereft me of all words, fair Cressida.
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?
Cres. Hard to seem won; but I was won, my lord —
What have I blabbed? who will be true to us,
When we are so unfaithful to ourselves!
O bid me hold my tongue; for, in this rapture,
Sure I shall speak what I should soon repent.
But stop my mouth.
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.
Cres. Prophet may you be!
If I am false, or swerve from truth of love,
When Time is old, and has forgot itself
In all things else, let it remember me;
And, after all comparisons of falsehood,
To stab the heart of perjury in maids,
Let it be said — as false as Cressida.
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!
Æn. Prince Hector!
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.
Æn. A word, my lord — Your pardon, Diomede —
Your brother Troilus, to my certain knowledge,
Does lodge this night in Pandarus’s house.
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?
Serv. Shall they strike up, sir?
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.
I.
Can life be a blessing,
Or worth the possessing,
Can life be a blessing, if love were away?
Ah, no! though our love all night keep us waking,
And though he torment us with cares all the day,
Yet he sweetens, he sweetens our pains in the taking;
There’s an hour at the last, there’s an hour to repay.
II.
In every possessing,
The ravishing blessing,
In every possessing, the fruit of our pain,
Poor lovers forget long ages of anguish,
Whate’er they have suffered and done to obtain;
’Tis a pleasure, a pleasure to sigh and to languish,
When we hope, when we hope to be happy again.
Pand. Put up, and vanish; they are coming out: What a ferrup, will you play when the dance is done? I say, vanish.
[Exit music.
[Peeping.] Good, i’faith! good, i’faith! what, hand in hand — a fair quarrel, well ended! Do, do, walk 314 him, walk him; — a good girl, a discreet girl: I see she will make the most of him.
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 naug
hty 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!
Enter Hector.
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.
Hect. Can you think
Of that one thing, which most could urge your anger,
Drive you to madness, plunge you in despair,
And make you hate even me?
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: