TROILUS

C All here my Varlet, I'll unarm again. Why should I war without the walls of Troy That find such cruel battle here within? Each Trojan that is master of his heart, Let him to field, Troilus alas hath none. The Greeks are strong, & skilful to their strength, Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness Valiant: But I am weaker then a woman's tear; Tamer then sleep, fonder then ignorance; Less valiant then the Virgin in the night, And skillesse as unpractised Infancy. Have I not tarried? Have I not tarried? Still have I tarried. Patience her self, what Goddess ere she be, Does lesser blench at sufferance, then I do: At Priam's Royal Table do I fit; And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts, So (Traitor) then she comes, when she is thence. I was about to tell thee, when my heart, As wedged with a sighs, would rive in twain, Least Hector, or my Father should perceive me: I have (as when the Sun does light a-scorne) Buried this sighs, in wrinkle of a smile: But sorrow, that is couched in seeming gladness, Is Like that mirth, Fate turns to sudden sadness. O Pandarus ! I tell thee Pandarus ; When I do tell thee, there my Hope's lie drowned: Reply not in how many Fathoms deep They lie indrench'd. I tell thee, I am mad In Cressidas love. Thou answerest she is Fair, Powerest in the open Ulcer of my heart, Her Eyes, her Hair, her Cheek, her Gate, her Voice, Handlest in thy discourse. Oh that her Hand (In whose comparison, all whites are Ink) Writing their own reproach; to whose soft seizure, The Cygnets Down is harsh, and spirit of Sense Hard as the palm of Ploughman. This thou tellest me; As true thou tellest me, when I say I love her: But saying thus, instead of Oil and Balm, Thou lai'st in every gash that love hath given me, The Knife that made it. Thou dost not speak so much. Good Pandarus : How now Pandarus? What art thou angry Pandarus ? what with me? Say I she is not fair? I do not care whither you do or no. She's a Fool to stay behind her Father: Let her to the Greeks, and so I'll tell her the next time I see her: for my partly, I'll meddle nor make no more in the matter. Pandarus? Sweet Pandarus. Because not there; this woman's answer sorts. For womanish it is to be from thence: What news Aeneas from the field to day? By whom Aeneas ? Let Paris bleed, it's but a scar to scorn, Paris is gored with Menelaus horn. Better at home, if would I might were may: But to the sport abroad, are you bound thither? Come go we then together. Fie, fie, my Brother; Weigh you the worth and honour of a King (So great as our dread Father) in a Scale Of common Ounces? Will you with Counters sum The passed proportion of his infinite, And buckle in a waste most fathomless, With spans and inches so diminutive, As fears and reasons? Fie for godly shame? You are for dreams & slumbers brother Priest You fur your gloves with reason: here are your reasons You know and enemy intends you harm, You know, a sword employed is perilous, And reason flies the object of all harm. Who marvels then when Helenus beholds A Grecian and his sword, if he do set The very wings of reason to his heals: Or Like a Star disorb'd. Nay, if we talk of Reason, And fly Like chidden Mercury from Jove, Let's shut our gates and sleep: Manhood and Honour Should have hard hearts, would they but fat their thoughts With this crammed reason: reason and respect, Makes Livers pale and lustyhood deject. What's aught, but as it's valued? I take to day a Wife, and my election Is led on in the conduct of my Will; My Will enkindled by mine eyes and ears, Two traded Pilots betwixt the dangerous shores Of Will, and Judgement. How may I avoid (Although my will distaste what it elected) The Wife I chosen, there can be no evasion To blench from this, and to stand firm by honour. We turn not back the Silks upon the Merchant When we have spoiled them; nor the remainder Viands We do not throw in unrespective same, Because we now are full. It was thought meet Paris should do some vengeance on the Greeks; Your breath of full consent bellied his Sails, The Seas and Winds (old Wranglers) took a Truce, And did him service; he touched the Ports desired, And for and old Aunt whom the Greeks held Captive, He brought a Grecian Queen, whose youth & freshness Wrinkles Apollo's, and makes stale the morning. Why keep we her? the Grecians keep our Aunt: Is she worth keeping? Why she is a Pearl, Whose price hath launched above a thousand Ships, And turned Crowned Kings to Merchant's. If you'll avouch, 'twas wisdom Paris went, (As you must needs, for you all cried, Go, go:) If you'll confess, he brought home Noble prize, (As you must needs) for you all clapped your hands, And cried inestimable; why do you now The issue of your proper Wisdoms rate, And do a deed that Fortune never did? Beggar the estimation which you prized, Richer then Sea and Land? Oh Theft most base! That we have stolen what we do fear to keep. But Thieves unworthy of a thing so stolen, That in their Country did them that disgrace, We fear to warrant in our Native place. It's our mad sister, I do know her voice. Why Brother Hector, We may not think the justness of each act Such, and no other then event does form it, Not once deject the courage of our minds; Because Cassandra's mad, her brainsick raptures Cannot distaste the goodness of a quarrel, Which hath our several Honours all engaged To make it gracious. For my private partly, I am no more touched, then all Priam's sons, And love forbid there should be done amongst us Such things as might offend the weakest spleen, To fight for, and maintain. Sirrah walk off. No Pandarus : I stalk about her door Like a strange soul upon the Stigian banks Staying for waftage. Oh be thou my Charon, And give me swift transportance to those fields, Where I may wallow in the Lily beds Proposed for the deserver. Oh gentle Pandarus, From Cupid's shoulder pluck his painted wings, And fly with me to Cressid. I am giddy; expectation whirls me round, the imaginary relish is so sweet, That it inchants my sense: what will it be When that the watery palates taste indeed Loves thrice reputed Nectar? Death I fear me Sounding destruction, or some joy too fine, Too subtle, potent, and too sharp in sweetness, For the capacity of my ruder powers; I fear it much, and I do fear beside, That I shall lose distinction in my joys, As does a battle, when they charge on heaps The enemy flying. Even such a passion does embrace my bosom: My heart beats thicker then a fevorous pulse, And all my powers do their bestowing lose, Like vass lage at unawares encountering The eye of Majesty. You have bereft me of all words Lady. Oh Cressida, how often have I wished me thus? What should they grant? what makes this pret ty abruption: what too curious dreg espies my sweet La die in the fountain of our love? Fears make devils of Cherubins, they never see truly. O let my Lady apprehend no fear, In all Cupid's Pageant there is presented no monster. Nothing but our undertakings, when we vow to weep seas, live in fire, eat rocks, tame Tigers; think king it harder for our Mistress to devise imposition enough, then for us to undergo any difficulty imposed. This is the monstruosity in love Lady, that the will is in finite, and the execution confined; that the desire is bound less, and the act a slave to limit. Are there such? such are not we: Praise us as we are tasted, allow us as we prove: our head shall go bore 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 then Troy lus. Why was my Cressid then so hard to win? And shall, albeit sweet Music issues thence. Your leave sweet Cressid ? What offends you Lady? You cannot shun your self. Well know they what they speak, that speaks so wisely. Oh that I thought it could be in a woman: As if it can, I will presume in you, To feed for aye her lamp and flames of love. To keep her constancy in plighted and youth, Outliving beauty's outward, with a mind That does renew swifter then blood decays: Or that persuasion could but thus convince me, That my integrity and truth to you, Might be affronted with the match and weight Of such a winnowed puriritie in love: How were I then uplifted! but alas, I am as true, as truths simplicity, And simpler then the infancy of truth. Oh virtuous fight, When right with right wars who shall be most right: True swains in love, shall in the world to come Approve their truths by Troilus, when their rhymes, Full of protest, of oath and big compare; Wants similes, truth tired with iteration, As true as steel, as plantage to the Moon: As Sun to day: as Turtle to her mate: As Iron to Adamant: as Earth to the Centre: Yet after all comparisons of truth, (As truths authentic author to be cited) As true as Troilus, shall crown up the Verse, And sanctify the numbers. Amen. Dear trouble not your self: the morn is cold. 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. I prithee now to bed. Oh Cressida ! but that the busy day Waked by the Lark, hath roused the ribald Crows, And dreaming night will hide our eyes no longer: I would not from thee. Beshrew the witch! with venomous wights she stays, As hidiously as hell; but flies the grasps of love, With wings more momentary, swift then thought: You will catch cold, and curse me. It is your Uncle. Would, would. How now, what's the matter? Is it concluded so? How my achievements mock me; I will go meet them: and my Lord Aeneas, We met by chance; you did not find me here. Walk into her house: I'll bring her to the Grecian presently; And to his hand, when I deliver her, Think it and Altar, and thy brother Troilus A Priest, there offering to it his heart. Cressid : I love thee in so strange a purity; That the blessed gods, as angry with my fancy, More bright in zeal, then the devotion which Cold lips blow to their Deities: take thee from me. A hateful truth. From Troy, and Troilus. And suddenly, where injury of chance Puts back leave-taking, justles roughly by All time of pause; rudely beguiles our lips Of all reioyndure: forcibly prevents Our locked embrasures; strangles our deer vows, Even in the birth of our own labouring breath. We two, that with so many thousand sighs Did buy each other, must poorly fell our selves, With the rude brevity and discharge of our Injurious time; now with a robbers haste Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how. As many farewells as be stars in heaven, With distinct breath, and consigned kisses to them, He fumbles up into a lose adieu; And scants us with a single famished kiss, Distasting with the salt of broken tears. Hark, you are called: some say the genius so Cries, come to him that instantly must die. Bid them have patience: she shall come anon. No remedy. When shall we see again? Here me my love: be thou but true of heart. 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. And I'll grow friend with danger; Wear this Sleeve. I will corrupt the Grecian Centinels, To give thee nightly visitation. But yet be true. Hear why I speak it; Love: The Grecian youths are full of quality, Their loving well composed, with gift of nature, Flawing and swelling over with Arts and exercise: How novelties may move, and parts with person. Alas, a kind of godly jealousy; Which I beseech you call a virtuous sin: Makes me afraid. 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; To which the Grecians are most prompt and pregnant: But I can tell that in each grace of these, There lurks a still and dumb-discoursiue devil, That tempts most cunningly: but be not tempted. No, but something may be done that we will not: And sometime we are devils to our selves, When we will tempt the frailty of our powers, Presuming on their changeful potency. Come kiss, and let us partly. Good brother come you hither, And bring Aeneas and the Grecian with you. Who I? 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 guild their copper crowns, With truth and plainness I do wear mine bore: Fear not my truth; the moral of my wit Is plain and true, ther's all the reach of it. 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 ere thou stand at mercy of my Sword, Name Cressid, and thy life shall be as safe As Priam is in Illion? Grecian, thou dost not use me courteously, To shame the seal of my petition towards, I praising her. I tell thee Lord of Greece: She is as far high soaring over thy praises, As thou unworthy to be called 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. 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. Hector, thou sleepest, awake thee. My Lord Ʋ lysses, tell me I beseech you, In what place of the Field does Calchas keep? Shall I (sweet Lord) be bound to thee so much, After we partly from Agamemnon's Tent, To bring me thither? Oh sir, to such as boasting show their scars, A mock is endue: 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. Sweet sir, you honour me. Cressid comes forth to him. Yea, so familiar? What should she remember? Hold, patience. Thy better must. Oh plague and madness! Behold, I pray you. I pray thee stay? I pray you stay? by hell and hell torments, I will not speak a word. Does that grieve thee? Oh withered truth! By Jove I will be patient. She strokes his cheek. 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. Fear me not sweet Lord. I will not be my self, nor have cognition Of what I feel: I am all patience. Oh beauty! where is thy Faith? I will be patient, outwardly I will. I did swear patience. Wertenberg thou the devil, and worst it on thy horn. It should be challenged. It is. To make a recordation to my soul Of every syllable that here was spoke: But if I tell how these two did coact; Shall I not lie, in publishing a truth? Sith yet there is a credence in my heart: And esperance so obstinately strong, That does invert that test of eyes and ears; As if those organs had deceptious functions, Created only to calumniate. Was Cressed here? She was not sure. Why my negation hath no taste of madness? Let it not be believed for womanhood: Think we had mother's; do not give advantage To stubborn Critics, apt without a theme For depravation, to square the general sex By Cressidas rule. Rather think this not Cressid. Nothing at all, unless that this were she. This she? no, this is Diomids Cressid : If beauty have a soul, this is not she: If souls guide vows; if vows are sanctimony; If sanctimony be the gods delight: If there be rule in unity it self, This is not she: Oh madness of discourse That cause sets up, with, and against thy self By foul authority: where reason can revolt Without perdition, and lose assume all reason, Without revolt. This is, and is not Cressid : Within my soul, there does conduce a fight Of this strange nature, that a thing inseperate, Divides more wider then the sky and earth: And yet the spacious breadth of this division Admits no Orifex for a point as subtle, As Ariachnes broken woof to enter: Instance, Oh instance! strong as Pluto's gates: Cressid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven; Instance, Oh instance, strong as heaven it self: The bonds of heaven are slipped, 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, Of her over-eaten faith, are bound to Diomed I Greek: and that shall be divulged well In Characters, as read as Mars his heart Inflamed with Ʋ enus : never did young man fancy With so eternal, and so fixed a soul. Hark Greek: as much I do Cressida love; So much by weight, hate I her Diomed, That Sleeve is mine, that heel bear in his Helm: Were it a Cask 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 Fen, Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptune's ear In his dissent; then shall my prompted sword, Falling on Diomed. Oh Cressid ! Oh false Cressid! false, false, false: Let all untruths stand by thy stained name, And theyle seem glorious. Have with you Prince: my courteous Lord adieu: Farewell revolted fair: and Diomed, Stand fast, and wear a Castle on thy head. Accept distracted thanks. Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you; Which better fits a Lion, then a man. When many times the captive Grecian falls, Even in the fan and wind of your fair Sword: You bid them rise, and live. Fools play, by heaven Hector. For the love of all the gods Let's leave the Hermit Pity with our Mother's; And when we have our Armours buckled on, The venomed vengeance ride upon our swords, Spur them to ruthful work, reine them from ruth. Hector, then it's wars. Who should withhold me? Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars, Beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire; Not Priamus, and Hecuba on knees; Their eyes over-galled with recourse of tears; Nor you my brother, with your true sword drawn Opposed to hinder me, should stop my way: But by my ruin. This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl, Makes all these bodements. Away, away. They are at it, hark: proud Diomed, believe I come to lose my arm, or win my sleeve. What now? Let me read. Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart; the effect does operate another way. Go wind to wind, there turn and change together: My love with words and errors still she feeds; But edifies another with her deeds. Hence brother lackey; ignomy and shame Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name. Fly not: for shouldst thou take the River Stix, I would swim after. O traitor Diomed ! Turn thy false face thou traitor, And pay thy life thou owest me for my horse. Come both you cogging Greeks, have at you both. Ajax hath taken Aeneas ; shall it be? No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven, He shall not carry him: I'll be taken too, Or bring him off: Fate hear me what I say; I wreak nor, though thou end my life to day. Hector is slain. He's dead: and at the murderers Horses tail, In beastly sort, dragged through the shameful Field Frown on you heavens, effect your rage with speed: Fit gods upon your thrones, and smile at Troy. I say at once, let your brief plagues be mercy, And linger not our sure destructions on. You understand me not, that tell me so: I do not speak of flight, of fear, of death, But dare all imminence that gods and men, Address their dangers in. Hector is gone: Who shall tell Priam so? or Hecuba ? Let him that will a screechoule aye be called, Go in to Troy, and say there, Hector is dead: There is a word will Priam turn to stone; Make wells, and Niobe's of the maids and wives; Cool statues of the youth: and in a word, Scar Troy out of it self. But march away, Hector is dead: there is no more to say. Stay yet: you vile abominable Tents, Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian plains: Let Titan rise as early as he dare, I'll through, and through you; & thou great sized coward: No space of Earth shall sunder our two hates, I'll haunt thee, Like a wicked conscience still, That moulds goblins swift as frenzies thoughts. Strike a free march to Troy, with comfort go: Hope of revenge, shall hide our inward woe. Hence broker, lackey, gnomy, and shame Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name. Peace you ungracious Clamours, peace rude sounds, Fools on both sides, Helen must needs be fair, When with your blood you daily paint her thus. I cannot fight upon this Argument: It is too starved a subject for my Sword, But Pandarus : Oh Gods! How do you plague me? I cannot come to Cressid but by Pandar, And he's as teachy to be wooed to woe, As she is stubborn, chased, against all suit. Tell me Apollo for thy Daphne's Love What Cressid is, what Pandar, and what we: Her bed is India, there she lies, a Pearl Between our Ilium, and where she recides Let it be called the wild and wandering flood, Our self the Merchant, and this sailing Pandar, Our doubtful hope, our convoy and our Bark. Why? there you touched the life of our design: Were it not glory that we more affected, Then the performance of our heaving spleens, I would not wish a drop of Trojan blood, Spent more in her defence. But worthy Hector, She is a theme of honour and renown, A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds, Whose present courage may beat down our foes, And fame in time to come canonise us. For I presume brave Hector would not lose So rich advantage of a promised glory, As smiles upon the forehead of this Actium, For the wide world's revenue. You know now your hostages: your Uncles word and my firm faith.