Complete Plays, The

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Complete Plays, The Page 85

by William Shakespeare


  Thersites

  No! why art thou then exasperate, thou idle immaterial skein of sleave-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 waterflies, diminutives of nature!

  Patroclus

  Out, gall!

  Thersites

  Finch-egg!

  Achilles

  My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite

  From my great purpose in to-morrow’s battle.

  Here is a letter from Queen Hecuba,

  A token from her daughter, my fair love,

  Both taxing me and gaging me to keep

  An oath that I have sworn. I will not break it:

  Fall Greeks; fail fame; honour or go or stay;

  My major vow lies here, this I’ll obey.

  Come, come, Thersites, help to trim my tent:

  This night in banqueting must all be spent.

  Away, Patroclus!

  Exeunt Achilles and Patroclus

  Thersites

  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; but he has not so much brain as earwax: and the goodly transformation of Jupiter there, his brother, the bull,— the primitive statue, and oblique memorial of cuckolds; 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, a toad, a lizard, an owl, a puttock, or a herring without a roe, I would not 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, so I were not Menelaus! Hey-day! spirits and fires!

  Enter Hector, Troilus, Ajax, Agamemnon, Ulysses, Nestor, Menelaus, and Diomedes, with lights

  Agamemnon

  We go wrong, we go wrong.

  Ajax

  No, yonder ’tis;

  There, where we see the lights.

  Hector

  I trouble you.

  Ajax

  No, not a whit.

  Ulysses

  Here comes himself to guide you.

  Re-enter Achilles

  Achilles

  Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, princes all.

  Agamemnon

  So now, fair prince of Troy, I bid good night.

  Ajax commands the guard to tend on you.

  Hector

  Thanks and good night to the Greeks’ general.

  Menelaus

  Good night, my lord.

  Hector

  Good night, sweet lord Menelaus.

  Thersites

  Sweet draught: ‘sweet’ quoth ’a! sweet sink, sweet sewer.

  Achilles

  Good night and welcome, both at once, to those

  That go or tarry.

  Agamemnon

  Good night.

  Exeunt Agamemnon and Menelaus

  Achilles

  Old Nestor tarries; and you too, Diomed,

  Keep Hector company an hour or two.

  Diomedes

  I cannot, lord; I have important business,

  The tide whereof is now. Good night, great Hector.

  Hector

  Give me your hand.

  Ulysses

  [Aside to Troilus] Follow his torch; he goes to

  Calchas’ tent:

  I’ll keep you company.

  Troilus

  Sweet sir, you honour me.

  Hector

  And so, good night.

  Exit Diomedes; Ulysses and Troilus following

  Achilles

  Come, come, enter my tent.

  Exeunt Achilles, Hector, Ajax, and Nestor

  Thersites

  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 Brabbler 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 varlets!

  Exit

  SCENE II. THE SAME. BEFORE CALCHAS’ TENT.

  Enter Diomedes

  Diomedes

  What, are you up here, ho? speak.

  Calchas

  [Within] Who calls?

  Diomedes

  Calchas, I think. Where’s your daughter?

  Calchas

  [Within] She comes to you.

  Enter Troilus and Ulysses, at a distance; after them, Thersites

  Ulysses

  Stand where the torch may not discover us.

  Enter Cressida

  Troilus

  Cressid comes forth to him.

  Diomedes

  How now, my charge!

  Cressida

  Now, my sweet guardian! Hark, a word with you.

  Whispers

  Troilus

  Yea, so familiar!

  Ulysses

  She will sing any man at first sight.

  Thersites

  And any man may sing her, if he can take her cliff; she’s noted.

  Diomedes

  Will you remember?

  Cressida

  Remember! yes.

  Diomedes

  Nay, but do, then;

  And let your mind be coupled with your words.

  Troilus

  What should she remember?

  Ulysses

  List.

  Cressida

  Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly.

  Thersites

  Roguery!

  Diomedes

  Nay, then,—

  Cressida

  I’ll tell you what,—

  Diomedes

  Foh, foh! come, tell a pin: you are forsworn.

  Cressida

  In faith, I cannot: what would you have me do?

  Thersites

  A juggling trick,— to be secretly open.

  Diomedes

  What did you swear you would bestow on me?

  Cressida

  I prithee, do not hold me to mine oath;

  Bid me do any thing but that, sweet Greek.

  Diomedes

  Good night.

  Troilus

  Hold, patience!

  Ulysses

  How now, Trojan!

  Cressida

  Diomed,—

  Diomedes

  No, no, good night: I’ll be your fool no more.

  Troilus

  Thy better must.

  Cressida

  Hark, one word in your ear.

  Troilus

  O plague and madness!

  Ulysses

  You are moved, prince; let us depart, I pray you,

  Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself

  To wrathful terms: this place is dangerous;

  The time right deadly; I beseech you, go.

  Troilus

  Behold, I pray you!

  Ulysses

  Nay, good my lord, go off:

  You flow to great distraction; come, my lord.

  Troilus

  I pray thee, stay.

  Ulysses

  You have not patience; come.

  Troilus

  I pray you, stay; by hell and all hell’s torments

  I will not speak a word!

  Diomedes

  And so, good night.

  Cressida

  Nay, but you part in anger.

  Troilus

  Doth that grieve thee?

  O wither’d truth!

  Ulysses

  Why, how now, lord!

  T
roilus

  By Jove,

  I will be patient.

  Cressida

  Guardian!— why, Greek!

  Diomedes

  Foh, foh! adieu; you palter.

  Cressida

  In faith, I do not: come hither once again.

  Ulysses

  You shake, my lord, at something: will you go?

  You will break out.

  Troilus

  She strokes his cheek!

  Ulysses

  Come, come.

  Troilus

  Nay, stay; by Jove, I will not speak a word:

  There is between my will and all offences

  A guard of patience: stay a little while.

  Thersites

  How the devil Luxury, with his fat rump and potato-finger, tickles these together! Fry, lechery, fry!

  Diomedes

  But will you, then?

  Cressida

  In faith, I will, la; never trust me else.

  Diomedes

  Give me some token for the surety of it.

  Cressida

  I’ll fetch you one.

  Exit

  Ulysses

  You have sworn patience.

  Troilus

  Fear me not, sweet lord;

  I will not be myself, nor have cognition

  Of what I feel: I am all patience.

  Re-enter Cressida

  Thersites

  Now the pledge; now, now, now!

  Cressida

  Here, Diomed, keep this sleeve.

  Troilus

  O beauty! where is thy faith?

  Ulysses

  My lord,—

  Troilus

  I will be patient; outwardly I will.

  Cressida

  You look upon that sleeve; behold it well.

  He loved me — O false wench!— Give’t me again.

  Diomedes

  Whose was’t?

  Cressida

  It is no matter, now I have’t again.

  I will not meet with you to-morrow night:

  I prithee, Diomed, visit me no more.

  Thersites

  Now she sharpens: well said, whetstone!

  Diomedes

  I shall have it.

  Cressida

  What, this?

  Diomedes

  Ay, that.

  Cressida

  O, all you gods! O pretty, pretty pledge!

  Thy master now lies thinking in his bed

  Of thee and me, and sighs, and takes my glove,

  And gives memorial dainty kisses to it,

  As I kiss thee. Nay, do not snatch it from me;

  He that takes that doth take my heart withal.

  Diomedes

  I had your heart before, this follows it.

  Troilus

  I did swear patience.

  Cressida

  You shall not have it, Diomed; faith, you shall not;

  I’ll give you something else.

  Diomedes

  I will have this: whose was it?

  Cressida

  It is no matter.

  Diomedes

  Come, tell me whose it was.

  Cressida

  ’Twas one’s that loved me better than you will.

  But, now you have it, take it.

  Diomedes

  Whose was it?

  Cressida

  By all Diana’s waiting-women yond,

  And by herself, I will not tell you whose.

  Diomedes

  To-morrow will I wear it on my helm,

  And grieve his spirit that dares not challenge it.

  Troilus

  Wert thou the devil, and worest it on thy horn,

  It should be challenged.

  Cressida

  Well, well, ’tis done, ’tis past: and yet it is not;

  I will not keep my word.

  Diomedes

  Why, then, farewell;

  Thou never shalt mock Diomed again.

  Cressida

  You shall not go: one cannot speak a word,

  But it straight starts you.

  Diomedes

  I do not like this fooling.

  Thersites

  Nor I, by Pluto: but that that likes not you pleases me best.

  Diomedes

  What, shall I come? the hour?

  Cressida

  Ay, come:— O Jove!— do come:— I shall be plagued.

  Diomedes

  Farewell till then.

  Cressida

  Good night: I prithee, come.

  Exit Diomedes

  Troilus, farewell! one eye yet looks on thee

  But with my heart the other eye doth see.

  Ah, poor our sex! this fault in us I find,

  The error of our eye directs our mind:

  What error leads must err; O, then conclude

  Minds sway’d by eyes are full of turpitude.

  Exit

  Thersites

  A proof of strength she could not publish more,

  Unless she said ‘My mind is now turn’d whore.’

  Ulysses

  All’s done, my lord.

  Troilus

  It is.

  Ulysses

  Why stay we, then?

  Troilus

  To make a recordation to my soul

  Of every syllable that here was spoke.

  But if I tell how these two did co-act,

  Shall I not lie in publishing a truth?

  Sith yet there is a credence in my heart,

  An esperance so obstinately strong,

  That doth invert the attest of eyes and ears,

  As if those organs had deceptious functions,

  Created only to calumniate.

  Was Cressid here?

  Ulysses

  I cannot conjure, Trojan.

  Troilus

  She was not, sure.

  Ulysses

  Most sure she was.

  Troilus

  Why, my negation hath no taste of madness.

  Ulysses

  Nor mine, my lord: Cressid was here but now.

  Troilus

  Let it not be believed for womanhood!

  Think, we had mothers; do not give advantage

  To stubborn critics, apt, without a theme,

  For depravation, to square the general sex

  By Cressid’s rule: rather think this not Cressid.

  Ulysses

  What hath she done, prince, that can soil our mothers?

  Troilus

  Nothing at all, unless that this were she.

  Thersites

  Will he swagger himself out on’s own eyes?

  Troilus

  This she? no, this is Diomed’s Cressida:

  If beauty have a soul, this is not she;

  If souls guide vows, if vows be sanctimonies,

  If sanctimony be the gods’ delight,

  If there be rule in unity itself,

  This is not she. O madness of discourse,

  That cause sets up with and against itself!

  Bi-fold authority! where reason can revolt

  Without perdition, and loss assume all reason

  Without revolt: this is, and is not, Cressid.

  Within my soul there doth conduce a fight

  Of this strange nature that a thing inseparate

  Divides more wider than the sky and earth,

  And yet the spacious breadth of this division

  Admits no orifex for a point as subtle

  As Ariachne’s broken woof to enter.

  Instance, O instance! strong as Pluto’s gates;

  Cressid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven:

  Instance, O instance! strong as heaven itself;

  The bonds of heaven are slipp’d, dissolved, and loosed;

  And with another knot, five-finger-tied,

  The fractions of her faith, orts of her love,

  The fragments, scraps, the bits and greasy relics

&nbs
p; Of her o’er-eaten faith, are bound to Diomed.

  Ulysses

  May worthy Troilus be half attach’d

  With that which here his passion doth express?

  Troilus

  Ay, Greek; and that shall be divulged well

  In characters as red as Mars his heart

  Inflamed with Venus: never did young man fancy

  With so eternal and so fix’d a soul.

  Hark, Greek: as much as I do Cressid love,

  So much by weight hate I her Diomed:

  That sleeve is mine that he’ll bear on his helm;

  Were it a casque composed by Vulcan’s skill,

  My sword should bite it: not the dreadful spout

  Which shipmen do the hurricano call,

  Constringed in mass by the almighty sun,

  Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptune’s ear

  In his descent than shall my prompted sword

  Falling on Diomed.

  Thersites

  He’ll tickle it for his concupy.

  Troilus

  O Cressid! O false Cressid! false, false, false!

  Let all untruths stand by thy stained name,

  And they’ll seem glorious.

  Ulysses

  O, contain yourself

  Your passion draws ears hither.

  Enter Aeneas

  Aeneas

  I have been seeking you this hour, my lord:

  Hector, by this, is arming him in Troy;

  Ajax, your guard, stays to conduct you home.

  Troilus

  Have with you, prince. My courteous lord, adieu.

  Farewell, revolted fair! and, Diomed,

  Stand fast, and wear a castle on thy head!

  Ulysses

  I’ll bring you to the gates.

  Troilus

  Accept distracted thanks.

  Exeunt Troilus, Aeneas, and Ulysses

  Thersites

  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

  Andromache

  When was my lord so much ungently temper’d,

  To stop his ears against admonishment?

  Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to-day.

  Hector

  You train me to offend you; get you in:

  By all the everlasting gods, I’ll go!

  Andromache

  My dreams will, sure, prove ominous to the day.

  Hector

  No more, I say.

  Enter Cassandra

  Cassandra

  Where is my brother Hector?

  Andromache

  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 of slaughter.

 

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