Omission to do what is necessary

Seals a commission to a blank of danger;
And danger, like an ague, subtly taints
Even then when we sit idly in the sun.

Achil. Go call Thersites hither, sweet Patroclus:
I'll send the fool to Ajax and desire him

To invite the Trojan lords after the combat

To see us here unarm'd: I have a woman's longing,

An appetite 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.

Ther. A wonder!

Achil. What?

Enter THERSITES.

A labour sav'd!

230

Ther. Ajax goes up and down the field, asking for himself. Achil. How so?

240

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

Achil. How can that be?

249

Ther. Why, he stalks up and down like a peacock, — a stride and a stand: ruminates 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 't would 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 vain-glory. 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 a leather jerkin.

Achil. Thou must be my ambassador to him, Thersites.

Ther. Who, I? why, he'll answer nobody; he professes not answering: speaking is for beggars; he wears his tongue in 's arms. I will put on his presence: let Patroclus make demands to me, you shall see the pageant of Ajax.

Achil. 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 illustrious six-or-seven-times-honoured captain-general of the Grecian army, Agamemnon, et cetera. Do this.

Patr. Jove bless great Ajax!

Ther. Hum!

Patr. I come from the worthy Achilles, -
Ther. Ha!

Patr. Who must humbly desires you to invite Hector to his

tent,

Ther. Hum!

Patr. And to procure safe-conduct from Agamemnon.

Ther. Agamemnon!

Patr. Ay, my lord.

Ther. Ha!

Patr. What say you to 't?

Ther. God b' wi' you, with all my heart.

Patr. Your answer, sir.

280

Ther. If to-morrow be a fair day, by eleven o'clock it will go one way or other: howsoever, he shall pay for me ere he

has me.

Patr. Your answer, sir.

Ther. Fare you well, with all my heart.

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

290

Ther. No, but he's out o' 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.

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

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

300

Achil. My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirr'd; And I myself see not the bottom of it. [Exeunt Achilles and Patroclus. Ther. Would the fountain of your mind were clear again, that I might water an ass at it! I had rather be a tick in a sheep than such a valiant ignorance.

[Exit.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. Troy. A street.

Enter, from one side, ENEAS, and Servant with a torch; from the other, PARIS, DEIPHOBUS, ANTENOR, DIOMEDES, and others, with torches.

Par. See, ho! who is that there?

Dei.

Ene. Is the prince there in person?

Had I so good occasion to lie long

It is the Lord Æneas.

207 catlings fine strings. The word has been ignorantly changed to catgut, which

is the popular name of strings made of the intestines of sheep and lambs.

As you, Prince Paris, nothing but heavenly business
Should rob my bed-mate of my company.

Dio. That's my mind too. Good morrow, Lord Æneas.
Par. A valiant Greek, Æneas, - 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.

Ene.

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.

Dio. 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.

Ene. 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.
Dio. We sympathise: Jove, let Æneas 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!

Ene. We know each other well.

Dio. We do; and long to know each other worse. Par. This is the most despiteful gentle greeting, The noblest hateful love, that e'er I heard of.

What business, lord, so early?

Ene. I was sent for to the King; but why, I know not. Par. His purpose meets you: 't was 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 do think
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.

Ene.

That I assure you:

Troilus had rather Troy were borne to Greece
Than Cressid borne from Troy.

30

40

Par.

There is no help;

The bitter disposition of the time

On, lord; we'll follow you.

Will have it so.
Ene. Good morrow, all.

[Exit with Servant.

Par. And tell me, noble Diomed, faith, tell me true, Even in the soul of sound good-fellowship,

Who, in your thoughts, merits fair Helen best,

Myself or Menelaus?

He merits well to have her, that doth seek her,
Not making any scruple of her soilure,
With such a hell 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 whore.

Par. You are too bitter to your countrywoman.
Dio. 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 Trojan hath been slain: since she could speak,
She hath not given so many good words breath
As for her Greeks and Trojans suffer'd death.
Par. 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 but commend what we intend to sell.
Here lies our way.

SCENE II. The same. Court of PANDA RUS' house.

Enter TROILUS and CRESSIDA.

Tro. Dear, trouble not yourself: the morn is cold.
Cres. Then, sweet my lord, I'll call mine uncle down;

He shall unbolt the gates.

Tro.

Trouble him not;

To bed, to bed: sleep kill those pretty eyes,

6 piece a cask for wine (Fr.) and also an enjoyable young woman.

60

70

[Exeunt.

kill close as in death; a violent and almost insufferable use of the word, and yet I hesitate at adopting the more welcome reading seal, notwithstanding the erroneous printing of this play.

And give as soft attachment to thy senses

As infants' empty of all thought!
Cres.

Tro. I prithee now, to bed.
Cres.

Good morrow,

then.

Are you a-weary of me?

Tro. O Cressida! but that the busy day,

Wak'd by the lark, hath roused the ribald crows,
And dreaming night will hide our joys no longer,
I would not from thee.

Cres.

Night hath been too brief.

Tro. Beshrew the witch! with venomous wights she stays As tediously as hell, but flies the grasps of love With wings more momentary-swift than thought. You will catch cold, and curse me.

Cres.

You men will never tarry.

Prithee, tarry:

O foolish Cressid! I might have still held off,

And then you would have tarried. Hark! there's one up.
Pan. [Within.] What, 's all the doors open here?
Tro. It is your uncle.

Cres. A pestilence on him! now will he be mocking:
I shall have such a life!

Enter PANDARUS.

Pan. How now, how now! how go maidenheads? you maid! where 's my cousin Cressid?

Cres. Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle!

You bring me to do, and then you flout me too.

10

20

Here,

Pan. To do what? to do what? let her say what: what have I brought you to do?

Cres. Come, come, beshrew your heart! you'll ne'er be good,

Nor suffer others.

30

Pan. Ha, ha! Alas, poor wretch! ah, poor capocchia! hast not slept to-night? would he not, a naughty man, let it sleep? a bugbear take him!

Cres. Did not I tell you? Would he were knock'd i̇' th'

head!

Who's that at door? good uncle, go and see.

My lord, come you again into my chamber:

You smile and mock me, as if I meant naughtily.

Tro. Ha, ha!

[Knocking within.

Cres. Come, you are deceiv'd, I think of no such thing.

How earnestly they knock! Pray you, come in:
I would not for half Troy have you seen here.

[Knocking within.

40

[Exeunt Troilus and Cressida.

31 capocchia:

simpleton. (Ital.)