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: '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 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.

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 tamèd piece;
You, like a lecher, out of whorish loins
Are pleased to breed out your inheritors:
Both merits poised, 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 not commend what we intend to sell.
Here lies our way.

SCENE II.-The same.

[Exeunt. Court before the House of PANDARUS.

Enter TROILES 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,

And give as soft attachment to thy senses,

As infants' empty of all thought!

Cres. Good morrow then.

Tro. Prythee now, to bed.

Cres. Are you aweary of me?

Tro. O Cressida! but that the busy day,

Waked 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 As tediously as hell; but flies the grasps of love, [stays With wings more momentary-swift than thought. You will catch cold, and curse ine.

Cres. Pr'ythee, tarry ;-

You men will never tarry.

O foolish Cressid!-I might have still held off,

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

Enter PANDARUS.

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

Pan. How now, how now? how go maidenheads?--Here, 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.

Cres. Come, you are deceived, I think of no such thing.[Knocking. How earnestly they knock.-Pray yon, come in;

I would not for half Troy have you seen here.

[Exeunt TROILUS and CRESSIDA. Pan. [Going to the door. Who's there? what's the matter? will you beat down the door? How now? what's the matter?

Enter ENEAS.

Ene. Good morrow, lord, good morrow.

Pan. Who's there? my lord Eneas? By my troth,

I knew you not: what news with you so early?
Ene. Is not prince Troilus here?

Pan. Here! what should he do here?

Ene. Come, he is here, my lord; do not deny him:

It doth import him much to speak with me.

Pan. Is he here, say you? 'tis more than I know, I'll be sworn--for my own part, I came in late. What should he do here?

Ene. Who!-nay, then :

Come, come, you'll do him wrong ere you are 'ware:
You'll be so true to him, to be false to him:

Do not you know of him, yet go fetch him hither;
Go.

AS PANDARES is going out, enter TROILUS.

Tro. How now? what's the matter?

Ene. My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you, My matter is so rash: there is at hand Paris your brother, and Deiphobus, The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor Deliver'd to us; and for him forthwith, Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour, We must give up to Diomedes' hand The lady Cressida.

above!

Cres. O the gods!-what's the matter?

Pan. Prythee, get thee in; 'would thou hadst ne'er been born! I knew thou wouldst be his death:-0 poor gentleman!--A plague upon Antenor!

Cres. Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees I beseech you, what's the matter?

Pan. Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone; thou art changed for Antenor: thou must to thy father, and be gone from Troilus: 'twill be his death; 'twill be his bane; he cannot bear it.

Cres. O you immortal gods!—I will not go.

Pan. Thou must.

Cres. I will not, uncle: I have forgot my father;

I know no touch of consanguinity;

No kin, no love, no blood, no soul so near me,

As the sweet Troilus.-0 you gods divine!
Make Cressid's name the very crown of falsehood,
If ever she leave Troilus! Time, force, and death,

Do to this body what extremes you can;
But the strong base and building of my love

Is as the very centre of the earth,

Drawing all things to it.-I'll go in and weep, — Pan. Do, do.

SCENE IV.-The same. A Room in PANDARUS' House.

Enter PANDARUS and CRESSIDA.

Pan. Be moderate, be moderate.

Cres. Why tell you me of moderation?

The grief is fine, full, perfect, that I taste,

And violenteth in a sense as strong

As that which causeth it: how can I moderate it?

If I could temporise with my affection,

Or brew it to a weak and colder palate,

The like allayment could I give my grief:

My love admits no qualifying dross;

No more my grief, in such a precious loss.

Enter TROILUS.

Pan. Here, here, here he comes.-Ah, sweet ducks! Cres. [Embracing him.] O Troilus! Troilus! Pan. What a pair of spectacles is here! Let me embrace too. "O heart," as the goodly saying is,"O heart, O heavy heart, Why sigh'st thou without breaking?"

where he answers again,

"Because thou canst not ease thy smart,
By friendship nor by speaking."

There never was a truer rhyme. Let us cast away nothing, for we may live to have need of such a verse; we see it, we see it.-How now, lambs?

Tro. Cressid, I love thee in so strain'd a purity.
That the bless'd gods-as angry with my fancy,
More bright in zeal than the devotion which
Cold lips blow to their deities-take thee from me.
Cres. Have the gods envy?

Pan. Ay, ay, ay, ay; 'tis too plain a case.
Cres. And is it true that I must go from Troy?
Tro. A hateful truth.

Cres. What, and from Troilus too?

Tro. From Troy and Troilus.

Cres. Is it possible?

Tro. And suddenly; where injury of chance
Puts back leave-taking, justles roughly by
All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips
Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents

Our lock'd embrasures, strangles our dear vows
Even in the birth of our own labouring breath:
We two, that with so many thousand sighs
Did buy each other, must poorly sell ourselves
With the rude brevity and discharge of one.
Injurious time now, with a robber's haste,
Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how:
As many farewells as be stars in heaven,
With distinct breath and consign'd kisses to them,
He fumbles up into a loose adieu;
And scants us with a single famish'd kiss,
Distasted with the salt of broken tears.

Ene. [Within.] My lord, is the lady ready?
Tro. Hark! you are call'd: some say, the Genius so
Cries, "Come" to him that instantly must die.-
Bid them have patience; she shall come anon.

Pan. Where are my tears? rain, to lay this wind, or my heart will be blown up by the root! [Exit PAN. Cres. I must then to the Greeks?

Cres. I true! how now? what wicked deem is this?
Tro. Nay, we must use expostulation kindly,.
For it is parting from us :-

I speak not "be thou true," as fearing thee;
For I will throw my glove to Death himself,
That there's no maculation in thy heart:
But "be thou true," say I, to fashion in
My sequent protestation; be thou true,
And I will see thee.

Cres. O, you shall be exposed, my lord, to dangers
As infinite as imminent! but I'll be true. [sleeve.

Tro. And I'll grow friend with danger. Wear this Cres. And you this glove. When shall I see you? Tro. I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels,

To give thee nightly visitation.

But yet, be true.

Cres. O heavens!-be true, again?

Tro. Hear why I speak it, love;

The Grecian youths are full of quality;

They're loving, well composed, with gifts of nature
And swelling o'er with arts and exercise:

How novelty may move, and parts with person
Alas, a kind of godly jealousy

(Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin)
Makes me afeard.

Cres. O heavens! you love me not.
Tro. Die I a villain then!

In this I do not call your faith in question,

So mainly as my merit: I cannot sing,
Nor heel the high lavolt, nor sweeten talk,
Nor play at subtle games; fair virtues all,

[flowing,

To which the Grecians are most prompt and pregnaut:
But I can tell, that in each grace of these

There lurks a still and dumb-discoursive devil,
That tempts most cunningly: but be not tempted.
Cres. Do you think I will?

Tro. No.

But something may be done that we will not
And sometimes we are devils to ourselves,
When we will tempt the frailty of our powers,
Presuming on their changeful potency.

Ene. [Within.] Nay, good my lord,-
Tro. Come, kiss; and let us part.
Par. [Within Brother Troilus!
Tro. Good brother, come you hither;
And bring Eneas and the Grecian with you.
Cres. My lord, will you be true?

Tro. Who, It alas, it is my vice, my fault:
While others fish with craft for great opinion,
I with great truth catch mere simplicity;
Whilst some with cunning gild their copper towns,
With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare.
Fear not my truth: the moral of my wit
Is, plain and true;-there's all the reach of it.
Enter ENEAS, PARIS, ANTENOR, DEIPHOBUS, and Dio

MEDES.

Welcome, Sir Diomed! here is the lady
Which for Antenor we deliver you:

At the port, lord, I'll give her to thy hand;
And by the way possess thee what she is.
Entreat her fair; and, by my soul, fair Greek,
If e'er thou stand at mercy of my sword,
Name Cressid, and thy life shall be as safe
As Priam is in Ilion.

Dio. Fair lady Cressid,

So please you, save the thanks this prince expects ·
The lustre in your eye, heaven in your cheek,
Pleads your fair usage; and to Diomed
You shall be mistress, and command him wholly
Tro. Grecian, thou dost not use me courteously,
To shame the zeal of my petition to thee,
In praising her: I tell thee, lord of Greece,
She is as far high-soaring o'er thy praises,
As thou unworthy to be call'd her servant.

I charge thee, use her well, even for my charge;
For, by the dreadful Pluto, if thou dost not,
Though the great bulk Achilles be thy guard,
I'll cut thy throat.

Dio. O, be not moved, prince Troilus:
Let me be privileged by my place and message
To be a speaker free; when I am hence,
I'll answer to my lust: and know you, lord,
I'll nothing do on charge: to her own worth
She shall be prized; but that you say-Be't so,
I'll speak it in my spirit and honour,-No.

Tro. Come, to the port.-I'll tell thee, Diomed,
This brave shall oft make thee to hide thy head.-
Lady, give me your hand; and, as we walk,
To our own selves bend we our needful talk.

[Exeunt TRO., CRES., and Dio. Trumpet heard

Hect. Not Neoptolemus so mirable

After the general, I beseech you next
To feast with me, and see me at my tent.

(On whose bright crest Fame with her loud'st O-yes Cries, This is he") could promise to himself

A thought of added honour torn from Hector.

Ene. There is expectance here from both the sides, What further you will do.

Hect. We'll answer it;

The issue is embracement:-Ajax, farewell.
Ajar. If I might in entreaties find success,
(As seld 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: And signify this loving interview

To the expecters of our Trojan part;

Desire them home.-Give me thy hand, my cousin;
I will go eat with thee, and see your knights.

Ajaz. Great Agamemnon comes to meet us here.
Hect. The worthiest of them tell me name by name;
But for Achilles, my own searching eyes
Shall find him by his large and portly size.

Agam. Worthy of arms! as welcome as to one
That would be rid of such an enemy;

But that's no welcome: understand more clear,
What's past, and what's to come, is strew'd with husks
And formless ruin of oblivion;

But in this extant moment, faith and troth,
Strain'd purely from all hollow bias-drawing,
Bids thee, with most divine integrity,
From heart of very heart, great Hector, welcome.
Hect. I thank thee, most imperious Agamemnon.
Agam. [To TROILUS.] My well-famed lord of Troy, no

less to you.

Men. Let me confirm my princely brother's greetYou brace of warlike brothers, welcome hither. [ing;Hect. Whom must we answer?

Men. The noble Menelaus.

Hect. O you, my lord? by Mars his gauntlet, thanks! Mock not that I affect the untraded oath: Your quondam wife swears still by Venus' glove: She's well, but bade me not commend her to you. Men. Name her not now, Sir; she's a deadly theme. Hect. O, pardon; I offend.

Nest. I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft, Labouring for destiny, make cruel way Through ranks of Greekish youth: and I have seen As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed, Despising many forfeits and subduements.

[thee,

When thou hast hung thy advanced sword i' the air,
Not letting it decline on the declined;
That I have said to some my standers-by,
"Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life!"

And I have seen thee pause, and take thy breath,
When that a ring of Greeks have hemm'd thee in,
Like an Olympian wrestling: this have I seen;
But this thy countenance, still lock'd in steel,
I never saw till now. I knew thy grandsire,
And once fought with him: he was a soldier good;
But, by great Mars, the captain of us all,
Never like thee. Let an old man embrace thee;
And, worthy warrior, welcome to our tents.
Ene. 'Tis the old Nestor.

Hect. Let me embrace thee, good old chronicle, That hast so long walk'd hand in hand with time:Most reverend Nestor, I am glad to clasp thee.

Nest. I would my arms could match thee in contenAs they contend with thee in courtesy. Hect. I would they could.

Nest. Ha!

[tion,

By this white beard, I'd fight with thee to-morrow.—
Well, welcome, welcome!--I have seen the time-
Ulyss. I wonder now how yonder city stands,
When we have here her base and pillar by us.

Hect. I know your favour, lord Ulysses, well.
Ah, Sir, there's many a Greek and Trojan dead,
Since first I saw yourself and Diomed
In Ilion, on your Greekish embassy.

Ulyss. Sir, I foretold you then what would ensue:
My prophecy is but half his journey yet;
For yonder walls, that pertly front your town,
Yon towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds,
Must kiss their own feet.

Hect. I must not believe you:

There they stand yet; and modestly I think,
The fall of every Phrygian stone will cost
A drop of Grecian blood: the end crowns all;
And that old common arbitrator, time,
Will one day end it.

Ulyss. So to him we leave it.

Most gentle and most valiant Hector, welcome:

Achil. I shall forestal thee, lord Ulysses, thou!-Now, Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee;

I have with exact view perused thee, Hector,
And quoted joint by joint.

Hect. Is this Achilles?

Achil. I am Achilles.

Hect. Stand fair, I pray thee: let me look on thee. Achil. Behold thy fill.

Hect. Nay, I have done already.

Achil. Thou art too brief; I will the second time.

As I would buy thee, view thee limb by limb.

Hect. O, like a book of sport thou 'lt read me o'er; But there's more in me than thou understand'st. Why dost thou so oppress me with thine eye?

Achil. Tell me, you heavens, in which part of his body Shall I destroy him? whether there, there, or there? That I may give the local wound a name,

And make distinct the very breach whereout
Hector's great spirit flew: answer me, heavens!

Heet. It would discredit the bless'd gods, proud man,
To answer such a question: stand again:
Think'st thou to catch my life so pleasantly,
As to prenominate in nice conjecture
Where thou wilt hit me dead?

Achil. I tell thee, yea.

Hect. Wert thou an oracle to tell me so,

I'd not believe thee. Henceforth guard thee well;
For I'll not kill thee there, nor there, nor there;
But, by the forge that stithied Mars his helm,
I'll kill thee everywhere, yea, o'er and o'er.--
You wisest Grecians, pardon me this brag,
His insolence draws folly from my lips;
But I'll endeavour deeds to match these words,
Or may I never-

Ajar. Do not chafe thee, cousin ;---
And you, Achilles, let these threats alone,
Till accident or purpose bring you to 't:
You may have every day enough of Hector,
If you have stomach; the general state, I fear,
Can scarce entreat you to be odd with him.

Hect. I pray you, let us see you in the field;
We have had pelting wars since you refused
The Grecians' cause.

Achil. Dost thou entreat me, Hector? To-morrow do I meet thee, fell as death; 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 convive we: afterwards, As Hector's leisure and your bounties shall Concur together, severally entreat him.Beat loud the tabourines, let the trumpets blow, That this great soldier may his welcome know.

[Exeunt all but TROILUS and ULYSSES. Tro. My lord Ulysses, tell me, I beseech you, In what place of the field doth Calchas keep? Ulyss. At Menelaus' tent, most princely Troilus: There Diomed doth feast with him to-night; Who neither looks upon the heaven nor earth, But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view On the fair Cressid.

Tro. Shall I, sweet lord, be bound to you so much, After we part from Agamemnon's tent,

To bring me thither?

Ulyss. You shall command me, Sir.

As gentle tell me, of what honour was
This Cressida in Troy? Had she no lover there
That wails her absence?

Tro. O, Sir, to such as boasting shew their scars,
A mock is due. Will you walk on, my lord?
She was beloved, she loved; she is, and doth:
But, still, sweet love is food for fortune's tooth.

ACT V.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.-The Grecian Camp. Before ACHILLES' Tent.
Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS.
Achil. I'll heat his blood with Greekish wine to-night,
Which with my scimitar I'll cool to-morrow.--
Patroclus, let us feast him to the height.
Patr. Here comes Thersites.

Enter THERSITES.

Achil. How now, thou core of envy?

Thou crusty batch of nature, what's the news?

Ther. Why, thou picture of what thou seemest, and idol of idiot-worshippers, here's a letter for thee.

Achil. From whence, fragment?

Ther. Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy.
Patr. Who keeps the tent now?

Ther. The surgeon's box, or the patient's wound. Patr. Well said, Adversity! 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.

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 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.

Ther. 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!

Patr. Out, gall!

Ther. Finch egg!

Achil. 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.

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; 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; 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. Agam. We go wrong, we go wrong.

Ajax. No, yonder 'tis ;

There, where we see the lights.

Hect. I trouble you.

Ajax. No, not a whit.

Ulyss. Here comes himself to guide you.

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 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.

Dio. What, are you up here? ho! speak.
Cal. [Within.] Who calls?
Dio.

Diomed.-Calchas, I think.-Where's your
daughter?

Cal. [Within.] She comes to you.

Enter TROILUS and ULYSSES, at a distance; after them THERSITES.

Ulyss. Stand where the torch may not discover us.
Enter CRESSIDA.

Tro. Cressid comes forth to him!
Dio. How now, my charge?

Cres. Now, my sweet guardian!-Hark! a word with [Whispers.

you.

Tro. Yea, so familiar!

Ulyss. She will sing any man at first sight.

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

Dio. Will you remember?

Cres. Remember? yes.

Dio. Nay, but do then;

And let your mind be coupled with your words. Tro. What should she remember?

Ulyss. List!

Cres. Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly. Ther. Roguery!

Dio. Nay, then,

Cres. I'll tell you what,

Tro. I pr'ythee, stay.

Ulyss. You have not patience; come.

[you,

Tro. I pray you, stay; by hell, and all hell's tor

I will not speak a word.

Dio. And so, good night.

Cres. Nay, but you part in anger.

Tro. Doth that grieve thee?

O wither'd truth!

Ulyss. Why, how now, lord?

Tro. By Jove,

I will be patient.

Cres. Guardian!-why, Greek!

Dio. Pho, pho! adieu; you palter.

[ments,

Cres. In faith, I do not; come hither once again. Ulyss. You shake, my lord, at something, will you You will break out.

Tro. She strokes his cheek!

Ulyss. Come, come.

[go?