any difficulty imposed. This is the monstruosity in love, lady,—that the will is infinite, and the execution confined; that the desire is boundless, and the act a slave to limit. Cres. They say, all lovers swear more performance than they are able, and yet reserve an ability that they never perform; vowing more than the perfection of ten, and discharging less than the tenth part of one. They that have the voice of lions, and the act of hares, are they not monsters? Tro. Are there such? such are not we. Praise us as we are tasted, allow us as we prove; our head shall go bare till merit crown it: no perfection in reversion shall have a praise in present: we will not name desert before his birth; and, being born, his addition shall be humble. Few words to fair faith: Troilus shall be such to Cressid, as what envy can say worst, shall be a mock for his truth; and what truth can speak truest, not truer than Troilus. Cres. Will you walk in, my lord? Re-enter PANDARUS. Pan. What, blushing still? have you not done talking yet? Cres. Well, uncle, what folly I commit, I dedicate to you. Pan. 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, chide me for it. Tro. You know now your hostages; your uncle's word and my firm faith. Pan. Nay, I'll give my word for her too; our kindred, though they be long ere they are wooed, they are constant, being won: they are burs, I can tell you; they'll stick where they are thrown. Cres. Boldness comes to me now, and brings me heart: Prince Troilus, I have loved you night and day For many weary months. Tro. Why was my Cressid, then, so hard to win? But, though I loved you well, I wooed you not; Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws My very soul of council! Stop my mouth. Tro. And shall, albeit sweet music issues thence. Pan. 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 will I take my leave, my lord. Tro. Your leave, sweet Cressid? Pan. Leave! an you take leave till to-morrow morning, Cres. Pray you, content you. I have a kind of self resides with you: Cres. Perchance, my lord, I shew more craft than love; And fell so roundly to a large confession, Tro. O, that I thought it could be in a woman Might be affronted with the match and weight True swains in love shall, in the world to come, Prophet may you be! Cres. If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth,— When time is old and hath forgot itself; When water-drops have worn the stones of Troy, And blind oblivion swallowed cities up, And mighty states charácterless are grated To dusty nothing; yet let memory, From false to false, among false maids in love, Upbraid my falsehood! when they have saidas false As air, as water, wind, or sandy earth, Pan. Go to, a bargain made: seal it, seal it; I'll be the witness.-Here I hold your hand; here, my cousin's. If ever you prove false one to another, since I have taken such pains to bring you together, let all pitiful goers-between be called to the world's end after my name; call them all Pandars; let all constant men be Troiluses, all false women Cressids, and all brokers-between Pandars! say, amen. SCENE III.-The Grecian Camp. Enter AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, DIOMEDES, AJAX, NESTOR, MENELAUS, and CALCHAS. Cal. Now, princes, for the service I have done you, The advantage of the time prompts me aloud To give me now a little benefit, Agam. What wouldst thou of us, Trojan? make demand. Cal. You have a Trojan prisoner, called Antenor, Yesterday took: Troy holds him very dear. Oft have you (often have you thanks therefore) Desired my Cressid in right great exchange, Whom Troy hath still denied: but this Antenor, I know, is such a wrest in their affairs, That their negociations all must slack, Wanting his manage; and they will almost Give us a prince of blood, a son of Priam, In change of him: let him be sent, great princes, And he shall buy my daughter; and her presence Shall quite strike off all service I have done, In most accepted pain. Agam. Let Diomedes bear him, And bring us Cressid hither: Calchas shall have What he requests of us. Good Diomed, Furnish you fairly for this interchange: Withal, bring word if Hector will to-morrow Be answered in his challenge: Ajax is ready. Dio. This shall I undertake; and 'tis a burden Which I am proud to bear. [Exeunt DIOMEDES and CALCHAS. Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS, before their Tent. Ulys. Achilles stands i'the entrance of his Please it our general to pass strangely by him, If so, I have derision med'cinable, To use between your strangeness and his pride, It Agam. We'll execute your purpose, and put on Achil. What, comes the general to speak with me? You know my mind, I'll fight no more 'gainst Troy. Agam. What says Achilles? would he aught with us? Nes. Would you, my lord, aught with the general? Achil. No. Nes. Nothing, my lord. [Exeunt AGAMEMNON and Nestor. Must fall out with men too: what the declined is, Which when they fall, as being slippery standers, Writes me, that man-how dearly ever parted, Achil. This is not strange, Ulysses. Till it hath travelled, and is married there Ulys. I do not strain at the position; It is familiar; but at the author's drift: Who, in his circumstance, expressly proves— That no man is the lord of anything (Though in and of him there be much consisting), The voice again; or, like a gate of steel Heavens, what a man is there! a very horse; That has he knows not what. Nature, what things there are, Most abject in regard, and dear in use! How some men creep in skittish fortune's hall, Achil. I do believe it for they passed by me As misers do by beggars; neither gave to me Good word, nor look. What, are my deeds forgot? Ulys. Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-sized monster of ingratitudes : As fast as they are made, forgot as soon Or, like a gallant horse fallen in first rank, Where it may see itself: this is not strange at all. Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours: For time is like a fashionable host, Farewell, my lord: I as your lover speak; That slightly shakes his parting guest by the The fool slides o'er the ice that you should break. hand; And with his arms outstretched, as he would fly, Grasps-in the comer. Welcome ever smiles, And farewell goes out sighing. O, let not virtue seek [Exit. Patr. To this effect, Achilles, have I moved you: A woman impudent and mannish grown Is not more loathed than an effeminate man Remuneration for the thing it was! For beauty, They think, my little stomach to the war, wit, High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, One touch of nature makes the whole world kin- And give to dust that is a little gilt, The present eye praises the present object: And drave great Mars to faction. Does thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles. But our great Ajax bravely beat down him." 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. A labour saved! Enter THERSITES. Ther. A wonder! Achil. What? Ther. Ajax goes up and down the field, asking for himself. Achil. How so? 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? 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 shew without knocking. The man's undone for ever; for if Hector break not his neck i'the combat, he'll break it 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 is 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 his 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 unarmed 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. Do this. Patr. Jove bless great Ajax! Patr. I come from the worthy Achilles,- Patr. Who most humbly desires you to invite Hector to his tent; Ther. Humph! Patr. And to procure safe conduct from Aga memnon. |