Because the girl should not survive her shame,


And by her presence still renew his sorrows.


A pattern, precedent, and lively warrant,


For me, most wretched, to perform the like.


Die, die, Lavinia, and thy shame with thee;


And, with thy shame, thy fathers sorrow die!


What hast thou done, unnatural and unkind?


Killd her, for whom my tears have made me blind.


And have a thousand times more cause than he


What, was she ravishd? tell who did the deed.


Why hast thou slain thine only daughter thus?


They ravishd her, and cut away her tongue;


And they, twas they, that did her all this wrong.


Why, there they are both, baked in that pie;


Eating the flesh that she herself hath bred.


Tis true, tis true; witness my knifes sharp point.


Die, frantic wretch, for this accursed deed!


Can the sons eye behold his father bleed?


Theres meed for meed, death for a deadly deed!


Kills SATURNINUS. A great tumult. LUCIUS, MARCUS, and others go up into the balcony


You sad-faced men, people and sons of Rome,


Scatterd by winds and high tempestuous gusts,


This scatterd corn  into one mutual sheaf,


And she whom mighty kingdoms courtsy to,


But if my frosty signs and chaps of age,


Speak, Romes dear friend, as erst our ancestor,


When with his solemn tongue he did discourse


When subtle Greeks surprised King Priams Troy,


Tell us what Sinon hath bewitchd our ears,


That gives our Troy, our Rome, the civil wound.


My heart is not compact of flint nor steel;


But floods of tears will drown my oratory,


And break my utterance, even in the time


When it should move you to attend me most,


Here is a captain, let him tell the tale;


Your hearts will throb and weep to hear him speak.


Then, noble auditory, be it known to you,


Were they that murdered our emperors brother;


And they it were that ravished our sister:


For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded;


Our fathers tears despised, and basely cozend


Of that true hand that fought Romes quarrel out,


The gates shut on me, and turnd weeping out,


Who drownd their enmity in my true tears.


And oped their arms to embrace me as a friend.


I am the turned forth, be it known to you,


That have preserved her welfare in my blood;


And from her bosom took the enemys point,


Sheathing the steel in my adventurous body.


My scars can witness, dumb although they are,


That my report is just and full of truth.


But, soft! methinks I do digress too much,


Citing my worthless praise: O, pardon me;


For when no friends are by, men praise themselves.


Now is my turn to speak. Behold this child:


Pointing to the Child in the arms of an Attendant


Chief architect and plotter of these woes:


Now judge what cause had Titus to revenge


These wrongs, unspeakable, past patience,


Now you have heard the truth, what say you, Romans?


Have we done aught amiss,--show us wherein,


And, from the place where you behold us now,


Will, hand in hand, all headlong cast us down.


And on the ragged stones beat forth our brains,


Speak, Romans, speak; and if you say we shall,


Lo, hand in hand, Lucius and I will fall.


And bring our emperor gently in thy hand,


To be adjudged some direful slaughtering death,


Lucius, all hail, Romes gracious governor!


To heal Romes harms, and wipe away her woe!


Stand all aloof: but, uncle, draw you near,


To shed obsequious tears upon this trunk.


O, take this warm kiss on thy pale cold lips,


These sorrowful drops upon thy blood-staind face,


Tear for tear, and loving kiss for kiss,


O were the sum of these that I should pay


Countless and infinite, yet would I pay them!


Come hither, boy; come, come, and learn of us


To melt in showers: thy grandsire loved thee well:


Sung thee asleep, his loving breast thy pillow:


In that respect, then, like a loving child,


Shed yet some small drops from thy tender spring,


Friends should associate friends in grief and woe:


Bid him farewell; commit him to the grave;


Do him that kindness, and take leave of him.


O grandsire, grandsire! even with all my heart


Would I were dead, so you did live again!


O Lord, I cannot speak to him for weeping;


My tears will choke me, if I ope my mouth.


That hath been breeder of these dire events.


Set him breast-deep in earth, and famish him;


There let him stand, and rave, and cry for food;


For the offence he dies. This is our doom:


Some stay to see him fastend in the earth.


O, why should wrath be mute, and fury dumb?


Would I perform, if I might have my will;


Some loving friends convey the emperor hence,


And give him burial in his fathers grave:


No funeral rite, nor man m mourning weeds,


But throw her forth to beasts and birds of prey:


Her life was beast-like, and devoid of pity;


And, being so, shall have like want of pity.


See justice done on Aaron, that damnd Moor,


By whom our heavy haps had their beginning:


Then, afterwards, to order well the state,


In Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of Greece


The princes orgulous, their high blood chafed,


Have to the port of Athens sent their ships,


Fraught with the ministers and instruments


Their crownets regal, from the Athenian bay


Put forth toward Phrygia; and their vow is made


To ransack Troy, within whose strong immures


With wanton Paris sleeps; and thats the quarrel.


And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge


Their warlike fraughtage: now on Dardan plains


The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch


Their brave pavilions: Priams six-gated city,


Dardan, and Tymbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien,


Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits,


On one and other side, Trojan and Greek,


Sets all on hazard: and hither am I come


Of authors pen or actors voice, but suited


To tell you, fair beholders, that our play


Leaps oer the vaunt and firstlings of those broils,


Beginning in the middle, starting thence away


Like or find fault; do as your pleasures are:


Now good or bad, tis but the chance of war.


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 and skilful to their strength,


Fierce to their skill and to their fierceness valiant;


Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance,


Less valiant than the virgin in the night


Well, I have told you enough of this: for my part,


Ill not meddle nor make no further. He that will


have a cake out of the wheat must needs tarry the grinding.


Ay, the bolting, but you must tarry the leavening.


Ay, to the leavening; but heres yet in the word


hereafter the kneading, the making of the cake, the


heating of the oven and the baking; nay, you must


stay the cooling too, or you may chance to burn your lips.


Patience herself, what goddess eer she be,


Doth lesser blench at sufferance than I do.


And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts,--


So, traitor! When she comes! When is she thence?


Well, she looked yesternight fairer than ever I saw


I was about to tell thee:--when my heart,


As wedged with a sigh, would rive in twain,


Lest Hector or my father should perceive me,


I have, as when the sun doth light a storm,


But sorrow, that is couchd in seeming gladness,


Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness.


An her hair were not somewhat darker than Helens--


well, go to--there were no more comparison between


the women: but, for my part, she is my kinswoman; I


would not, as they term it, praise her: but I would


somebody had heard her talk yesterday, as I did. I


will not dispraise your sister Cassandras wit, but--


When I do tell thee, there my hopes lie drownd,


They lie indrenchd. I tell thee I am mad


In Cressids love: thou answerst she is fair;


Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice,


Handlest in thy discourse, O, that her hand,


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 tellst me,


As true thou tellst me, when I say I love her;


But, saying thus, instead of oil and balm,


Thou layst in every gash that love hath given me


Faith, Ill not meddle int. Let her be as she is:


if she be fair, tis the better for her; an she be


not, she has the mends in her own hands.


I have had my labour for my travail; ill-thought on of


her and ill-thought on of you; gone between and


between, but small thanks for my labour.


What, art thou angry, Pandarus? what, with me?


Because shes kin to me, therefore shes not so fair


as Helen: an she were not kin to me, she would be as


fair on Friday as Helen is on Sunday. But what care


I? I care not an she were a black-a-moor; tis all one to me.


I do not care whether you do or no. Shes a fool to


stay behind her father; let her to the Greeks; and so


Ill tell her the next time I see her: for my part,


Ill meddle nor make no more i the matter.


Pray you, speak no more to me: I will leave all as I


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.


It is too starved a subject for my sword.


But Pandarus,--O gods, how do you plague me!


As she is stubborn-chaste against all suit.


What Cressid is, what Pandar, and what we?


Her bed is India; there she lies, a pearl:


Between our Ilium and where she resides,


Let it be calld the wild and wandering flood,


Ourself the merchant, and this sailing Pandar


Our doubtful hope, our convoy and our bark.


How now, Prince Troilus! wherefore not afield?


Because not there: this womans answer sorts,


What news, AEneas, from the field to-day?


Let Paris bleed; tis but a scar to scorn;


Hark, what good sport is out of town to-day!


Better at home, if would I might were may.


But to the sport abroad: are you bound thither?


Whose height commands as subject all the vale,


To see the battle. Hector, whose patience


Is, as a virtue, fixd, to-day was moved:


He chid Andromache and struck his armourer,


And, like as there were husbandry in war,


Before the sun rose he was harnessd light,


And to the field goes he; where every flower


The noise goes, this: there is among the Greeks


A lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Hector;


So do all men, unless they are drunk, sick, or have no legs.


This man, lady, hath robbed many beasts of their


particular additions; he is as valiant as the lion,


churlish as the bear, slow as the elephant: a man


into whom nature hath so crowded humours that his


valour is crushed into folly, his folly sauced with


discretion: there is no man hath a virtue that he


hath not a glimpse of, nor any man an attaint but he


carries some stain of it: he is melancholy without


cause, and merry against the hair: he hath the


joints of every thing, but everything so out of joint


that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no use,


or purblind Argus, all eyes and no sight.


They say he yesterday coped Hector in the battle and


struck him down, the disdain and shame whereof hath


ever since kept Hector fasting and waking.


Good morrow, cousin Cressid: what do you talk of?


Good morrow, Alexander. How do you, cousin? When


What were you talking of when I came? Was Hector


armed and gone ere ye came to Ilium? Helen was not


That were we talking of, and of his anger.


True, he was so: I know the cause too: hell lay


about him to-day, I can tell them that: and theres


Troilus will not come far behind him: let them take


heed of Troilus, I can tell them that too.


Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better man of the two.


What, not between Troilus and Hector? Do you know a


Ay, if I ever saw him before and knew him.


Then you say as I say; for, I am sure, he is not Hector.


No, nor Hector is not Troilus in some degrees.


Tis just to each of them; he is himself.


Himself! Alas, poor Troilus! I would he were.


Condition, I had gone barefoot to India.


Himself! no, hes not himself: would a were


himself! Well, the gods are above; time must friend


or end: well, Troilus, well: I would my heart were


in her body. No, Hector is not a better man than Troilus.


Th others not come tot; you shall tell me another


tale, when th others come tot. Hector shall not


He shall not need it, if he have his own.


herself swore th other day, that Troilus, for


a brown favour--for so tis, I must confess,--


Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown.


Then Troilus should have too much: if she praised


him above, his complexion is higher than his; he


having colour enough, and the other higher, is too


flaming a praise for a good complexion. I had as


lief Helens golden tongue had commended Troilus for


I swear to you. I think Helen loves him better than Paris.


Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him th other


day into the compassed window,--and, you know, he


has not past three or four hairs on his chin,--


Indeed, a tapsters arithmetic may soon bring his


Why, he is very young: and yet will he, within


three pound, lift as much as his brother Hector.


Is he so young a man and so old a lifter?


But to prove to you that Helen loves him: she came


and puts me her white hand to his cloven chin--


Why, you know tis dimpled: I think his smiling


becomes him better than any man in all Phrygia.


Why, go to, then: but to prove to you that Helen


Troilus will stand to the proof, if youll


Troilus! why, he esteems her no more than I esteem


If you love an addle egg as well as you love an idle


head, you would eat chickens i the shell.


I cannot choose but laugh, to think how she tickled


his chin: indeed, she has a marvellous white hand, I


And she takes upon her to spy a white hair on his chin.


But there was such laughing! Queen Hecuba laughed


But there was more temperate fire under the pot of


Marry, at the white hair that Helen spied on Troilus chin.


Ant had been a green hair, I should have laughed


They laughed not so much at the hair as at his pretty answer.


Quoth she, Heres but two and fifty hairs on your


Thats true; make no question of that. Two and


fifty hairs quoth he, and one white: that white


hair is my father, and all the rest are his sons.


Jupiter! quoth she, which of these hairs is Paris,


my husband? The forked one, quoth he, pluckt


out, and give it him. But there was such laughing!


and Helen so blushed, an Paris so chafed, and all the


So let it now; for it has been while going by.


Well, cousin. I told you a thing yesterday; think ont.


Ill be sworn tis true; he will weep you, an twere


And Ill spring up in his tears, an twere a nettle


Hark! they are coming from the field: shall we


stand up here, and see them as they pass toward


Ilium? good niece, do, sweet niece Cressida.


Here, here, heres an excellent place; here we may


see most bravely: Ill tell you them all by their


names as they pass by; but mark Troilus above the rest.


Thats AEneas: is not that a brave man? hes one of


the flowers of Troy, I can tell you: but mark


Thats Antenor: he has a shrewd wit, I can tell you;


and hes a man good enough, hes one o the soundest


judgments in whosoever, and a proper man of person.


When comes Troilus? Ill show you Troilus anon: if


Thats Hector, that, that, look you, that; theres a


fellow! Go thy way, Hector! Theres a brave man,


niece. O brave Hector! Look how he looks! theres


Is a not? it does a mans heart good. Look you


what hacks are on his helmet! look you yonder, do


you see? look you there: theres no jesting;


theres laying on, taket off who will, as they say:


Swords! any thing, he cares not; an the devil come


to him, its all one: by Gods lid, it does ones


heart good. Yonder comes Paris, yonder comes Paris.


Look ye yonder, niece; ist not a gallant man too,


ist not? Why, this is brave now. Who said he came


hurt home to-day? hes not hurt: why, this will do


Helens heart good now, ha! Would I could see


Troilus now! You shall see Troilus anon.


Thats Helenus. I marvel where Troilus is. Thats


Helenus. I think he went not forth to-day. Thats Helenus.


Helenus? no. Yes, hell fight indifferent well. I


marvel where Troilus is. Hark! do you not hear the


people cry Troilus? Helenus is a priest.


Where? yonder? thats Deiphobus. Tis Troilus!


theres a man, niece! Hem! Brave Troilus! the


Mark him; note him. O brave Troilus! Look well upon


him, niece: look you how his sword is bloodied, and


his helm more hacked than Hectors, and how he looks,


and how he goes! O admirable youth! he neer saw


three and twenty. Go thy way, Troilus, go thy way!


Had I a sister were a grace, or a daughter a goddess,


he should take his choice. O admirable man! Paris?


Paris is dirt to him; and, I warrant, Helen, to


Asses, fools, dolts! chaff and bran, chaff and bran!


porridge after meat! I could live and die i the


eyes of Troilus. Neer look, neer look: the eagles


are gone: crows and daws, crows and daws! I had


rather be such a man as Troilus than Agamemnon and


There is among the Greeks Achilles, a better man than Troilus.


Achilles! a drayman, a porter, a very camel.


Well, well! why, have you any discretion? have


you any eyes? Do you know what a man is? Is not


birth, beauty, good shape, discourse, manhood,


learning, gentleness, virtue, youth, liberality,


and such like, the spice and salt that season a man?


Ay, a minced man: and then to be baked with no date


in the pie, for then the mans dates out.


You are such a woman! one knows not at what ward you


Upon my back, to defend my belly; upon my wit, to


defend my wiles; upon my secrecy, to defend mine


honesty; my mask, to defend my beauty; and you, to


defend all these: and at all these wards I lie, at a


Nay, Ill watch you for that; and thats one of the


chiefest of them too: if I cannot ward what I would


not have hit, I can watch you for telling how I took


the blow; unless it swell past hiding, and then its


Sir, my lord would instantly speak with you.


I doubt he be hurt. Fare ye well, good niece.


Words, vows, gifts, tears, and loves full sacrifice,


Than in the glass of Pandars praise may be;


Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing:


Things won are done; joys soul lies in the doing.


That she beloved knows nought that knows not this:


Men prize the thing ungaind more than it is:


Love got so sweet as when desire did sue.


Therefore this maxim out of love I teach:


Achievement is command; ungaind, beseech:


Then though my hearts content firm love doth bear,


Nothing of that shall from mine eyes appear.


SCENE III. The Grecian camp. Before Agamemnons tent.


Sennet. Enter AGAMEMNON, NESTOR, ULYSSES, MENELAUS, and others


What grief hath set the jaundice on your cheeks?


Fails in the promised largeness: cheques and disasters


Grow in the veins of actions highest reard,


As knots, by the conflux of meeting sap,


Infect the sound pine and divert his grain


Tortive and errant from his course of growth.


That we come short of our suppose so far


That after seven years siege yet Troy walls stand;


Sith every action that hath gone before,


That gavet surmised shape. Why then, you princes,


Do you with cheeks abashd behold our works,


And call them shames? which are indeed nought else


But the protractive trials of great Jove


The fineness of which metal is not found


In fortunes love; for then the bold and coward,


The wise and fool, the artist and unread,


The hard and soft seem all affined and kin:


But, in the wind and tempest of her frown,


Distinction, with a broad and powerful fan,


With due observance of thy godlike seat,


Thy latest words. In the reproof of chance


Lies the true proof of men: the sea being smooth,


Upon her patient breast, making their way


The strong-ribbd bark through liquid mountains cut,


Bounding between the two moist elements,


Like Perseus horse: wheres then the saucy boat


Co-rivalld greatness? Either to harbour fled,


Doth valours show and valours worth divide


In storms of fortune; for in her ray and brightness


The herd hath more annoyance by the breeze


Than by the tiger; but when the splitting wind


Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks,


And flies fled under shade, why, then the thing of courage


As roused with rage with rage doth sympathize,


And with an accent tuned in selfsame key


Thou great commander, nerve and bone of Greece,


Heart of our numbers, soul and only spirit.


In whom the tempers and the minds of all


Should be shut up, hear what Ulysses speaks.


Besides the applause and approbation To which,


And thou most reverend for thy stretchd-out life


I give to both your speeches, which were such


Should hold up high in brass, and such again


Should with a bond of air, strong as the axle-tree


On which heaven rides, knit all the Greekish ears


To his experienced tongue, yet let it please both,


Thou great, and wise, to hear Ulysses speak.


Speak, prince of Ithaca; and bet of less expect


That matter needless, of importless burden,


When rank Thersites opes his mastic jaws,


Troy, yet upon his basis, had been down,


And the great Hectors sword had lackd a master,


The specialty of rule hath been neglected:


And, look, how many Grecian tents do stand


Hollow upon this plain, so many hollow factions.


When that the general is not like the hive


What honey is expected? Degree being vizarded,


The unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask.


The heavens themselves, the planets and this centre


Insisture, course, proportion, season, form,


Office and custom, in all line of order;


And therefore is the glorious planet Sol


Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil,


And posts, like the commandment of a king,


Sans cheque to good and bad: but when the planets


What plagues and what portents! what mutiny!


What raging of the sea! shaking of earth!


Commotion in the winds! frights, changes, horrors,


Quite from their fixure! O, when degree is shaked,


Which is the ladder to all high designs,


Then enterprise is sick! How could communities,


Degrees in schools and brotherhoods in cities,


Peaceful commerce from dividable shores,


Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels,


But by degree, stand in authentic place?


Take but degree away, untune that string,


And, hark, what discord follows! each thing meets


Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores


And the rude son should strike his father dead:


Force should be right; or rather, right and wrong,


Between whose endless jar justice resides,


Should lose their names, and so should justice too.


Then every thing includes itself in power,


And last eat up himself. Great Agamemnon,


That by a pace goes backward, with a purpose


That next by him beneath; so every step,


Of his superior, grows to an envious fever


And tis this fever that keeps Troy on foot,


Not her own sinews. To end a tale of length,


Troy in our weakness stands, not in her strength.


The fever whereof all our power is sick.


The nature of the sickness found, Ulysses,


Grows dainty of his worth, and in his tent


Lies mocking our designs: with him Patroclus


He pageants us. Sometime, great Agamemnon,


And, like a strutting player, whose conceit


Lies in his hamstring, and doth think it rich


Twixt his stretchd footing and the scaffoldage,--


Such to-be-pitied and oer-wrested seeming


He acts thy greatness in: and when he speaks,


Tis like a chime a-mending; with terms unsquared,


Which, from the tongue of roaring Typhon droppd


Would seem hyperboles. At this fusty stuff


The large Achilles, on his pressd bed lolling,


From his deep chest laughs out a loud applause;


Now play me Nestor; hem, and stroke thy beard,


Thats done, as near as the extremest ends


Of parallels, as like as Vulcan and his wife:


Tis Nestor right. Now play him me, Patroclus,


And then, forsooth, the faint defects of age


Must be the scene of mirth; to cough and spit,


And, with a palsy-fumbling on his gorget,


Shake in and out the rivet: and at this sport


Sir Valour dies; cries O, enough, Patroclus;


Or give me ribs of steel! I shall split all


In pleasure of my spleen. And in this fashion,


All our abilities, gifts, natures, shapes,


Achievements, plots, orders, preventions,


Excitements to the field, or speech for truce,


Success or loss, what is or is not, serves


As stuff for these two to make paradoxes.


With an imperial voice--many are infect.


Ajax is grown self-willd, and bears his head


In such a rein, in full as proud a place


As broad Achilles; keeps his tent like him;


Makes factious feasts; rails on our state of war,


A slave whose gall coins slanders like a mint,


They tax our policy, and call it cowardice,


But that of hand: the still and mental parts,


That do contrive how many hands shall strike,


When fitness calls them on, and know by measure


Of their observant toil the enemies weight,--


They call this bed-work, mappery, closet-war;


So that the ram that batters down the wall,


For the great swing and rudeness of his poise,


They place before his hand that made the engine,


Or those that with the fineness of their souls


Is this great Agamemnons tent, I pray you?


Fore all the Greekish heads, which with one voice


Which is that god in office, guiding men?


This Trojan scorns us; or the men of Troy


As bending angels; thats their fame in peace:


But when they would seem soldiers, they have galls,


Good arms, strong joints, true swords; and,


Nothing so full of heart. But peace, AEneas,


Peace, Trojan; lay thy finger on thy lips!


The worthiness of praise distains his worth,


If that the praised himself bring the praise forth:


That breath fame blows; that praise, sole sure,


Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself AEneas?


He hears naught privately that comes from Troy.


Nor I from Troy come not to whisper him:


That thou shalt know. Trojan, he is awake,


Send thy brass voice through all these lazy tents;


And every Greek of mettle, let him know,


What Troy means fairly shall be spoke aloud.


A prince calld Hector,--Priam is his father,--


Who in this dull and long-continued truce


Is rusty grown: he bade me take a trumpet,


And to this purpose speak. Kings, princes, lords!


If there be one among the fairst of Greece


That holds his honour higher than his ease,


That seeks his praise more than he fears his peril,


That knows his valour, and knows not his fear,


That loves his mistress more than in confession,


With truant vows to her own lips he loves,


In other arms than hers,--to him this challenge.


Hector, in view of Trojans and of Greeks,


Shall make it good, or do his best to do it,


Than ever Greek did compass in his arms,


And will to-morrow with his trumpet call


Midway between your tents and walls of Troy,


To rouse a Grecian that is true in love:


If none, hell say in Troy when he retires,


The Grecian dames are sunburnt and not worth


This shall be told our lovers, Lord AEneas;


If none of them have soul in such a kind,


We left them all at home: but we are soldiers;


And may that soldier a mere recreant prove,


That means not, hath not, or is not in love!


If then one is, or hath, or means to be,


That one meets Hector; if none else, I am he.


When Hectors grandsire suckd: he is old now;


One noble man that hath one spark of fire,


To answer for his love, tell him from me


Ill hide my silver beard in a gold beaver


And in my vantbrace put this witherd brawn,


And meeting him will tell him that my lady


Was fairer than his grandam and as chaste


As may be in the world: his youth in flood,


Ill prove this truth with my three drops of blood.


Now heavens forbid such scarcity of youth!


Fair Lord AEneas, let me touch your hand;


Achilles shall have word of this intent;


So shall each lord of Greece, from tent to tent:


Yourself shall feast with us before you go


Be you my time to bring it to some shape.


Blunt wedges rive hard knots: the seeded pride


Or, shedding, breed a nursery of like evil,


This challenge that the gallant Hector sends,


The purpose is perspicuous even as substance,


Whose grossness little characters sum up:


And, in the publication, make no strain,


But that Achilles, were his brain as barren


As banks of Libya,--though, Apollo knows,


Tis dry enough,--will, with great speed of judgment,


Yes, tis most meet: whom may you else oppose,


That can from Hector bring his honour off,


If not Achilles? Thought be a sportful combat,


For here the Trojans taste our dearst repute


With their finest palate: and trust to me, Ulysses,


Although particular, shall give a scantling


And in such indexes, although small pricks


To their subsequent volumes, there is seen


Of things to come at large. It is supposed


He that meets Hector issues from our choice


And choice, being mutual act of all our souls,


Makes merit her election, and doth boil,


What heart receives from hence the conquering part,


To steel a strong opinion to themselves?


Which entertaind, limbs are his instruments,


In no less working than are swords and bows


Therefore tis meet Achilles meet not Hector.


Let us, like merchants, show our foulest wares,


And think, perchance, theyll sell; if not,


For both our honour and our shame in this


I see them not with my old eyes: what are they?


What glory our Achilles shares from Hector,


Were he not proud, we all should share with him:


Than in the pride and salt scorn of his eyes,


Should he scape Hector fair: if he were foild,


In taint of our best man. No, make a lottery;


The sort to fight with Hector: among ourselves


Who broils in loud applause, and make him fall


His crest that prouder than blue Iris bends.


If the dull brainless Ajax come safe off,


Well dress him up in voices: if he fail,


That we have better men. But, hit or miss,


Our projects life this shape of sense assumes:


Ajax employd plucks down Achilles plumes.


Two curs shall tame each other: pride alone


Must tarre the mastiffs on, as twere their bone.


Agamemnon, how if he had boils? full, all over,


And those boils did run? say so: did not the


general run then? were not that a botchy core?


Then would come some matter from him; I see none now.


Thou bitch-wolfs son, canst thou not hear?


The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel


Speak then, thou vinewedst leaven, speak: I will


I shall sooner rail thee into wit and holiness: but,


I think, thy horse will sooner con an oration than


thou learn a prayer without book. Thou canst strike,


canst thou? a red murrain o thy jades tricks!


Dost thou think I have no sense, thou strikest me thus?


Do not, porpentine, do not: my fingers itch.


I would thou didst itch from head to foot and I had


the scratching of thee; I would make thee the


loathsomest scab in Greece. When thou art forth in


the incursions, thou strikest as slow as another.


Thou grumblest and railest every hour on Achilles,


and thou art as full of envy at his greatness as


Cerberus is at Proserpines beauty, ay, that thou


He would pun thee into shivers with his fist, as a


Ay, do, do; thou sodden-witted lord! thou hast no


more brain than I have in mine elbows; an assinego


may tutor thee: thou scurvy-valiant ass! thou art


here but to thrash Trojans; and thou art bought and


sold among those of any wit, like a barbarian slave.


If thou use to beat me, I will begin at thy heel, and


tell what thou art by inches, thou thing of no


Mars his idiot! do, rudeness; do, camel; do, do.


Why, how now, Ajax! wherefore do you thus? How now,


But yet you look not well upon him; for whosoever you


Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters! his


evasions have ears thus long. I have bobbed his


brain more than he has beat my bones: I will buy


nine sparrows for a penny, and his pia mater is not


worth the nineth part of a sparrow. This lord,


Achilles, Ajax, who wears his wit in his belly and


his guts in his head, Ill tell you what I say of


As will stop the eye of Helens needle, for whom he


I would have peace and quietness, but the fool will


No, I warrant you; for a fools will shame it.


I bade the vile owl go learn me the tenor of the


Your last service was sufferance, twas not


voluntary: no man is beaten voluntary: Ajax was


here the voluntary, and you as under an impress.


Een so; a great deal of your wit, too, lies in your


sinews, or else there be liars. Hector have a great


catch, if he knock out either of your brains: a


were as good crack a fusty nut with no kernel.


Theres Ulysses and old Nestor, whose wit was mouldy


ere your grandsires had nails on their toes, yoke you


like draught-oxen and make you plough up the wars.


Yes, good sooth: to, Achilles! to, Ajax! to!


Tis no matter! I shall speak as much as thou


I will hold my peace when Achilles brach bids me, shall I?


I will see you hanged, like clotpoles, ere I come


any more to your tents: I will keep where there is


wit stirring and leave the faction of fools.


Marry, this, sir, is proclaimd through all our host:


That Hector, by the fifth hour of the sun,


Will with a trumpet twixt our tents and Troy


To-morrow morning call some knight to arms


That hath a stomach; and such a one that dare


Maintain--I know not what: tis trash. Farewell.


I know not: tis put to lottery; otherwise


O, meaning you. I will go learn more of it.


SCENE II. Troy. A room in Priams palace.


Enter PRIAM, HECTOR, TROILUS, PARIS, and HELENUS


After so many hours, lives, speeches spent,


Thus once again says Nestor from the Greeks:


As honour, loss of time, travail, expense,


Wounds, friends, and what else dear that is consumed


In hot digestion of this cormorant war--


Shall be struck off. Hector, what say you tot?


Though no man lesser fears the Greeks than I


More spongy to suck in the sense of fear,


More ready to cry out Who knows what follows?


Than Hector is: the wound of peace is surety,


Surety secure; but modest doubt is calld


The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches


To the bottom of the worst. Let Helen go:


Since the first sword was drawn about this question,


Every tithe soul, mongst many thousand dismes,


Hath been as dear as Helen; I mean, of ours:


To guard a thing not ours nor worth to us,


Weigh you the worth and honour of a king


Of common ounces? will you with counters sum


As fears and reasons? fie, for godly shame!


No marvel, though you bite so sharp at reasons,


You are so empty of them. Should not our father


Bear the great sway of his affairs with reasons,


Because your speech hath none that tells him so?


You are for dreams and slumbers, brother priest;


You fur your gloves with reason. Here are


And reason flies the object of all harm:


Or like a star disorbd? Nay, if we talk of reason,


Lets shut our gates and sleep: manhood and honour


Should have hare-hearts, would they but fat


With this crammd reason: reason and respect


Brother, she is not worth what she doth cost


But value dwells not in particular will;


To make the service greater than the god


Without some image of the affected merit.


My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears,


Two traded pilots twixt the dangerous shores


Although my will distaste what it elected,


The wife I chose? 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 soild them, nor the remainder viands


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 touchd the ports desired,


And for an old aunt whom the Greeks held captive,


He brought a Grecian queen, whose youth and freshness


Wrinkles Apollos, 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 launchd above a thousand ships,


If youll avouch twas wisdom Paris went--


As you must needs, for you all cried Go, go,--


If youll confess he brought home noble prize--


As you must needs, for you all clappd your hands


Richer than sea and land? O, theft most base,


That we have stoln what we do fear to keep!


But, thieves, unworthy of a thing so stoln,


That in their country did them that disgrace,


Tis our mad sister, I do know her voice.


Cry, Trojans, cry! lend me ten thousand eyes,


And I will fill them with prophetic tears.


Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled eld,


Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry,


Cry, Trojans, cry! practise your eyes with tears!


Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand;


Our firebrand brother, Paris, burns us all.


Cry, cry! Troy burns, or else let Helen go.


Now, youthful Troilus, do not these high strains


Some touches of remorse? or is your blood


So madly hot that no discourse of reason,


We may not think the justness of each act


Such and no other than event doth form it,


Nor once deject the courage of our minds,


Because Cassandras mad: her brain-sick raptures


Cannot distaste the goodness of a quarrel


Which hath our several honours all engaged


To make it gracious. For my private part,


I am no more touchd than all Priams sons:


And Jove forbid there should be done amongst us


Such things as might offend the weakest spleen


As well my undertakings as your counsels:


But I attest the gods, your full consent


All fears attending on so dire a project.


For what, alas, can these my single arms?


What Propugnation is in one mans valour,


This quarrel would excite? Yet, I protest,


Paris should neer retract what he hath done,


Like one besotted on your sweet delights:


You have the honey still, but these the gall;


The pleasures such a beauty brings with it;


But I would have the soil of her fair rape


What treason were it to the ransackd queen,


Disgrace to your great worths and shame to me,


Should once set footing in your generous bosoms?


Theres not the meanest spirit on our party


Without a heart to dare or sword to draw


When Helen is defended, nor none so noble


Whose life were ill bestowd or death unfamed


Where Helen is the subject; then, I say,


Well may we fight for her whom, we know well,


The worlds large spaces cannot parallel.


Paris and Troilus, you have both said well,


And on the cause and question now in hand


Have glozed, but superficially: not much


Unlike young men, whom Aristotle thought


Twixt right and wrong, for pleasure and revenge


Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice


All dues be renderd to their owners: now,


Than wife is to the husband? If this law


Of nature be corrupted through affection,


And that great minds, of partial indulgence


To their benumbed wills, resist the same,


There is a law in each well-orderd nation


To have her back returnd: thus to persist


But makes it much more heavy. Hectors opinion


Is this in way of truth; yet neertheless,


For tis a cause that hath no mean dependance


Why, there you touchd the life of our design:


Than the performance of our heaving spleens,


Spent more in her defence. But, worthy Hector,


A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds,


Whose present courage may beat down our foes,


For, I presume, brave Hector would not lose


As smiles upon the forehead of this action


I have a roisting challenge sent amongst


The dun and factious nobles of the Greeks


Will strike amazement to their drowsy spirits:


I was advertised their great general slept,


SCENE III. The Grecian camp. Before Achilles tent.


How now, Thersites! what lost in the labyrinth of


thy fury! Shall the elephant Ajax carry it thus? He


beats me, and I rail at him: O, worthy satisfaction!


would it were otherwise; that I could beat him,


whilst he railed at me. Sfoot, Ill learn to


conjure and raise devils, but Ill see some issue of


my spiteful execrations. Then theres Achilles, a


rare enginer! If Troy be not taken till these two


undermine it, the walls will stand till they fall of


themselves. O thou great thunder-darter of Olympus,


forget that thou art Jove, the king of gods and,


Mercury, lose all the serpentine craft of thy


caduceus, if ye take not that little, little less


than little wit from them that they have! which


short-armed ignorance itself knows is so abundant


scarce, it will not in circumvention deliver a fly


from a spider, without drawing their massy irons and


cutting the web. After this, the vengeance on the


whole camp! or rather, the bone-ache! for that,


methinks, is the curse dependent on those that war


for a placket. I have said my prayers and devil Envy


Whos there? Thersites! Good Thersites, come in and rail.


If I could have remembered a gilt counterfeit, thou


wouldst not have slipped out of my contemplation: but


it is no matter; thyself upon thyself! The common


curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in


great revenue! heaven bless thee from a tutor, and


discipline come not near thee! Let thy blood be thy


direction till thy death! then if she that lays thee


out says thou art a fair corse, Ill be sworn and


sworn upont she never shrouded any but lazars.


What, art thou devout? wast thou in prayer?


Where, where? Art thou come? why, my cheese, my


digestion, why hast thou not served thyself in to


my table so many meals? Come, whats Agamemnon?


Thy commander, Achilles. Then tell me, Patroclus,


Thy lord, Thersites: then tell me, I pray thee,


Thy knower, Patroclus: then tell me, Patroclus,


Ill decline the whole question. Agamemnon commands


Achilles; Achilles is my lord; I am Patroclus


He is a privileged man. Proceed, Thersites.


Agamemnon is a fool; Achilles is a fool; Thersites


is a fool, and, as aforesaid, Patroclus is a fool.


Agamemnon is a fool to offer to command Achilles;


Achilles is a fool to be commanded of Agamemnon;


Thersites is a fool to serve such a fool, and


Make that demand of the prover. It suffices me thou


Here is such patchery, such juggling and such


knavery! all the argument is a cuckold and a


whore; a good quarrel to draw emulous factions


and bleed to death upon. Now, the dry serpigo on


the subject! and war and lechery confound all!


Enter AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, NESTOR, DIOMEDES, and AJAX


Within his tent; but ill disposed, my lord.


Let it be known to him that we are here.


Let him be told so; lest perchance he think


We dare not move the question of our place,


Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart: you may call it


melancholy, if you will favour the man; but, by my


head, tis pride: but why, why? let him show us the


Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him.


Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost his argument.


No, you see, he is his argument that has his


All the better; their fraction is more our wish than


their faction: but it was a strong composure a fool


The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily


The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy:


his legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure.


If any thing more than your sport and pleasure


Did move your greatness and this noble state


To call upon him; he hopes it is no other


But for your health and your digestion sake,


We are too well acquainted with these answers:


But his evasion, wingd thus swift with scorn,


Much attribute he hath, and much the reason


Why we ascribe it to him; yet all his virtues,


Do in our eyes begin to lose their gloss,


Yea, like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish,


Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell him,


We come to speak with him; and you shall not sin,


And under-honest, in self-assumption greater


Than in the note of judgment; and worthier


Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on,


Disguise the holy strength of their command,


His pettish lunes, his ebbs, his flows, as if


The passage and whole carriage of this action


Rode on his tide. Go tell him this, and add,


Well none of him; but let him, like an engine


Bring action hither, this cannot go to war:


I shall; and bring his answer presently.


We come to speak with him. Ulysses, enter you.


Is he so much? Do you not think he thinks himself a


Will you subscribe his thought, and say he is?


No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as valiant, as


wise, no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether


Why should a man be proud? How doth pride grow? I


Your mind is the clearer, Ajax, and your virtues the


fairer. He that is proud eats up himself: pride is


his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle;


and whatever praises itself but in the deed, devours


I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendering of toads.


Achilles will not to the field to-morrow.


But carries on the stream of his dispose


Untent his person and share the air with us?


Things small as nothing, for requests sake only,


He makes important: possessd he is with greatness,


And speaks not to himself but with a pride


That quarrels at self-breath: imagined worth


Holds in his blood such swoln and hot discourse


That twixt his mental and his active parts


And batters down himself: what should I say?


He is so plaguy proud that the death-tokens of it


Dear lord, go you and greet him in his tent:


Tis said he holds you well, and will be led


Well consecrate the steps that Ajax makes


When they go from Achilles: shall the proud lord


That bastes his arrogance with his own seam


Enter his thoughts, save such as do revolve


And ruminate himself, shall he be worshippd


No, this thrice worthy and right valiant lord


Must not so stale his palm, nobly acquired;


That were to enlard his fat already pride


And add more coals to Cancer when he burns


[Aside to DIOMEDES]  O, this is well; he rubs the


[Aside to NESTOR]  And how his silence drinks up


If I go to him, with my armed fist Ill pash him oer the face.


An a be proud with me, Ill pheeze his pride:


Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.


He will be the physician that should be the patient.


A should not bear it so, a should eat swords first:


Hes not yet through warm: force him with praises:


[To AGAMEMNON]  My lord, you feed too much on this dislike.


You must prepare to fight without Achilles.


Why, tis this naming of him does him harm.


A whoreson dog, that shall pelter thus with us!


Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet composure;


Praise him that got thee, she that gave thee suck:


Famed be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature


But he that disciplined thy arms to fight,


To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom,


Which, like a bourn, a pale, a shore, confines


Thy spacious and dilated parts: heres Nestor;


Put pardon, father Nestor, were your days


As green as Ajax and your brain so temperd,


You should not have the eminence of him,


There is no tarrying here; the hart Achilles


Keeps thicket. Please it our great general


We must with all our main of power stand fast:


And heres a lord,--come knights from east to west,


And cull their flower, Ajax shall cope the best.


Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw deep.


Friend, you! pray you, a word: do not you follow


You depend upon a noble gentleman; I must needs


Friend, know me better; I am the Lord Pandarus.


Grace! not so, friend: honour and lordship are my titles.


I do but partly know, sir: it is music in parts.


At mine, sir, and theirs that love music.


Friend, we understand not one another: I am too


courtly and thou art too cunning. At whose request


Thats to t indeed, sir: marry, sir, at the request


of Paris my lord, whos there in person; with him,


the mortal Venus, the heart-blood of beauty, loves


No, sir, Helen: could you not find out that by her


It should seem, fellow, that thou hast not seen the


Lady Cressida. I come to speak with Paris from the


Prince Troilus: I will make a complimental assault


Sodden business! theres a stewed phrase indeed!


Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair


company! fair desires, in all fair measure,


fairly guide them! especially to you, fair queen!


You speak your fair pleasure, sweet queen. Fair


You have broke it, cousin: and, by my life, you


shall make it whole again; you shall piece it out


with a piece of your performance. Nell, he is full


Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude.


Well said, my lord! well, you say so in fits.


I have business to my lord, dear queen. My lord,


Nay, this shall not hedge us out: well hear you


Well, sweet queen. you are pleasant with me. But,


marry, thus, my lord: my dear lord and most esteemed


Go to, sweet queen, to go:--commends himself most


You shall not bob us out of our melody: if you do,


Sweet queen, sweet queen! thats a sweet queen, i faith.


And to make a sweet lady sad is a sour offence.


Nay, that shall not serve your turn; that shall not,


in truth, la. Nay, I care not for such words; no,


no. And, my lord, he desires you, that if the king


call for him at supper, you will make his excuse.


What says my sweet queen, my very very sweet queen?


What exploits in hand? where sups he to-night?


What says my sweet queen? My cousin will fall out


with you. You must not know where he sups.


Ill lay my life, with my disposer Cressida.


No, no, no such matter; you are wide: come, your


Ay, good my lord. Why should you say Cressida? no,


You spy! what do you spy? Come, give me an


My niece is horribly in love with a thing you have,


She shall have it, my lord, if it be not my lord Paris.


He! no, shell none of him; they two are twain.


Falling in, after falling out, may make them three.


Come, come, Ill hear no more of this; Ill sing


Ay, ay, prithee now. By my troth, sweet lord, thou


Let thy song be love: this love will undo us all.


Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but love.


Love, love, nothing but love, still more!


In love, i faith, to the very tip of the nose.


He eats nothing but doves, love, and that breeds hot


blood, and hot blood begets hot thoughts, and hot


thoughts beget hot deeds, and hot deeds is love.


Is this the generation of love? hot blood, hot


thoughts, and hot deeds? Why, they are vipers:


is love a generation of vipers? Sweet lord, whos


Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the


gallantry of Troy: I  would fain have armed to-day,


but my Nell would not have it so. How chance my


He hangs the lip at something: you know all, Lord Pandarus.


Not I, honey-sweet queen. I long to hear how they


sped to-day. Youll remember your brothers excuse?


Theyre come from field: let us to Priams hall,


To greet the warriors. Sweet Helen, I must woo you


To help unarm our Hector: his stubborn buckles,


With these your white enchanting fingers touchd,


Shall more obey than to the edge of steel


Or force of Greekish sinews; you shall do more


Than all the island kings,--disarm great Hector.


Twill make us proud to be his servant, Paris;


Yea, what he shall receive of us in duty


Gives us more palm in beauty than we have,


Enter PANDARUS and Troiluss Boy, meeting


How now! wheres thy master? at my cousin


No, sir; he stays for you to conduct him thither.


Like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks


Staying for waftage. O, be thou my Charon,


And give me swift transportance to those fields


Proposed for the deserver! O gentle Pandarus,


From Cupids shoulder pluck his painted wings


Walk here i the orchard, Ill bring her straight.


I am giddy; expectation whirls me round.


That it enchants my sense: what will it be,


When that the watery palate tastes indeed


Loves thrice repured nectar? death, I fear me,


Swooning destruction, or some joy too fine,


Too subtle-potent, tuned too sharp in sweetness,


That I shall lose distinction in my joys;


As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps


Shes making her ready, shell come straight: you


must be witty now. She does so blush, and fetches


her wind so short, as if she were frayed with a


sprite: Ill fetch her. It is the prettiest


villain: she fetches her breath as short as a


Even such a passion doth embrace my bosom:


My heart beats thicker than a feverous pulse;


And all my powers do their bestowing lose,


Come, come, what need you blush? shames a baby.


Here she is now: swear the oaths now to her that


you have sworn to me. What, are you gone again?


you must be watched ere you be made tame, must you?


Come your ways, come your ways; an you draw backward,


well put you i the fills. Why do you not speak to


her? Come, draw this curtain, and lets see your


picture. Alas the day, how loath you are to offend


daylight! an twere dark, yould close sooner.


So, so; rub on, and kiss the mistress. How now!


a kiss in fee-farm! build there, carpenter; the air


is sweet. Nay, you shall fight your hearts out ere


I part you. The falcon as the tercel, for all the


Words pay no debts, give her deeds: but shell


bereave you o the deeds too, if she call your


activity in question. What, billing again? Heres


In witness whereof the parties interchangeably--


O Cressida, how often have I wished me thus!


Wished, my lord! The gods grant,--O my lord!


What should they grant? what makes this pretty


abruption? What too curious dreg espies my sweet


More dregs than water, if my fears have eyes.


Fears make devils of cherubims; they never see truly.


Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds safer


footing than blind reason stumbling without fear: to


O, let my lady apprehend no fear: in all Cupids


Nothing, but our undertakings; when we vow to weep


seas, live in fire, eat rocks, tame tigers; thinking


it harder for our mistress to devise imposition


enough than for us to undergo 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.


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 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


What, blushing still? have you not done talking yet?


Well, uncle, what folly I commit, I dedicate to you.


I thank you for that: if my lord get a boy of you,


youll give him me. Be true to my lord: if he


You know now your hostages; your uncles word and my


Nay, Ill 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;


Boldness comes to me now, and brings me heart.


Prince Troilus, I have loved you night and day


Hard to seem won: but I was won, my lord,


With the first glance that ever--pardon me--


If I confess much, you will play the tyrant.


I love you now; but not, till now, so much


My thoughts were like unbridled children, grown


Too headstrong for their mother. See, we fools!


Why have I blabbd? who shall be true to us,


But, though I loved you well, I wood you not;


And yet, good faith, I wishd myself a man,


Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue,


For in this rapture I shall surely speak


The thing I shall repent. See, see, your silence,


Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws


And shall, albeit sweet music issues thence.


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.


Leave! an you take leave till to-morrow morning,--


But an unkind self, that itself will leave,


Where is my wit? I know not what I speak.


Well know they what they speak that speak so wisely.


Perchance, my lord, I show more craft than love;


And fell so roundly to a large confession,


To angle for your thoughts: but you are wise,


Or else you love not, for to be wise and love


Exceeds mans might; that dwells with gods above.


O that I thought it could be in a woman--


To feed for aye her ramp and flames of love;


To keep her constancy in plight and youth,


That doth renew swifter than blood decays!


Or that persuasion could but thus convince me,


Might be affronted with the match and weight


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,


Want similes, truth tired with iteration,


As true as steel, as plantage to the moon,


As iron to adamant, as earth to the centre,


As true as Troilus shall crown up the verse,


If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth,


When time is old and hath forgot itself,


When waterdrops have worn the stones of Troy,


And mighty states characterless are grated


From false to false, among false maids in love,


Upbraid my falsehood! when theyve said as false


As fox to lamb, as wolf to heifers calf,


Pard to the hind, or stepdame to her son,


Yea, let them say, to stick the heart of falsehood,


Go to, a bargain made: seal it, seal it; Ill be the


witness. Here I hold your hand, here my cousins.


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 worlds 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.


Amen. Whereupon I will show you a chamber with a


bed; which bed, because it shall not speak of your


pretty encounters, press it to death: away!


And Cupid grant all tongue-tied maidens here


Bed, chamber, Pandar to provide this gear!


SCENE III. The Grecian camp. Before Achilles tent.


Enter AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, DIOMEDES, NESTOR, AJAX, MENELAUS, and CALCHAS


Now, princes, for the service I have done you,


The advantage of the time prompts me aloud


To call for recompense. Appear it to your mind


That, through the sight I bear in things to love,


I have abandond Troy, left my possession,


Incurrd a traitors name; exposed myself,


To doubtful fortunes; sequestering from me all


That time, acquaintance, custom and condition


Made tame and most familiar to my nature,


As new into the world, strange, unacquainted:


Which, you say, live to come in my behalf.


What wouldst thou of us, Trojan? make demand.


You have a Trojan prisoner, calld 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


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,


And bring us Cressid hither: Calchas shall have


Furnish you fairly for this interchange:


Withal bring word if Hector will to-morrow


Be answerd in his challenge: Ajax is ready.


This shall I undertake; and tis a burden


Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS, before their tent


Achilles stands i the entrance of his tent:


Please it our general to pass strangely by him,


Lay negligent and loose regard upon him:


I will come last. Tis like hell question me


Why such unplausive eyes are bent on him:


To use between your strangeness and his pride,


Which his own will shall have desire to drink:


It may be good: pride hath no other glass


To show itself but pride, for supple knees


Feed arrogance and are the proud mans fees.


So do each lord, and either greet him not,


Or else disdainfully, which shall shake him more


Than if not lookd on. I will lead the way.


What, comes the general to speak with me?


You know my mind, Ill fight no more gainst Troy.


What says Achilles? would he aught with us?


Would you, my lord, aught with the general?


What mean these fellows? Know they not Achilles?


They pass by strangely: they were used to bend


To send their smiles before them to Achilles;


Tis certain, greatness, once falln out with fortune,


Must fall out with men too: what the declined is


He shall as soon read in the eyes of others


As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies,


Show not their mealy wings but to the summer,


Hath any honour, but honour for those honours


That are without him, as place, riches, favour,


Which when they fall, as being slippery standers,


The love that leand on them as slippery too,


Die in the fall. But tis not so with me:


Save these mens looks; who do, methinks, find out


Something not worth in me such rich beholding


As they have often given. Here is Ulysses;


Writes me: That man, how dearly ever parted,


Cannot make boast to have that which he hath,


Nor feels not what he owes, but by reflection;


Heat them and they retort that heat again


The beauty that is borne here in the face


The bearer knows not, but commends itself


To others eyes; nor doth the eye itself,


That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself,


Not going from itself; but eye to eye opposed


Salutes each other with each others form;


Till it hath travelld and is mirrord there


Where it may see itself. This is not strange at all.


It is familiar,--but at the authors drift;


Who, in his circumstance, expressly proves


Though in and of him there be much consisting,


Till he communicate his parts to others:


Nor doth he of himself know them for aught


Till he behold them formd in the applause


Where theyre extended; who, like an arch,


The voice again, or, like a gate of steel


Fronting the sun, receives and renders back


His figure and his heat.  I was much wrapt in this;


Heavens, what a man is there! a very horse,


That has he knows not what. Nature, what things there are


What things again most dear in the esteem


And poor in worth! Now shall we see to-morrow--


An act that very chance doth throw upon him--


Ajax renownd. O heavens, what some men do,


How some men creep in skittish fortunes hall,


Whiles others play the idiots in her eyes!


While pride is fasting in his wantonness!


To see these Grecian lords!--why, even already


They clap the lubber Ajax on the shoulder,


As if his foot were on brave Hectors breast


As misers do by beggars, neither gave to me


Good word nor look: what, are my deeds forgot?


Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back,


Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devourd


As fast as they are made, forgot as soon


Keeps honour bright: to have done is to hang


In monumental mockery. Take the instant way;


For honour travels in a strait so narrow,


Where one but goes abreast: keep then the path;


That one by one pursue: if you give way,


Or hedge aside from the direct forthright,


Like to an enterd tide, they all rush by


Or like a gallant horse falln in first rank,


Lie there for pavement to the abject rear,


Oer-run and trampled on: then what they do in present,


Though less than yours in past, must oertop yours;


That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand,


And with his arms outstretchd, as he would fly,


Grasps in the comer: welcome ever smiles,


And farewell goes out sighing. O, let not


High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service,


Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all


One touch of nature makes the whole world kin,


That all with one consent praise new-born gawds,


Though they are made and moulded of things past,


The present eye praises the present object.


Then marvel not, thou great and complete man,


That all the Greeks begin to worship Ajax;


Since things in motion sooner catch the eye


Than what not stirs. The cry went once on thee,


And still it might, and yet it may again,


If thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive


Whose glorious deeds, but in these fields of late,


Made emulous missions mongst the gods themselves


The reasons are more potent and heroical:


Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love


The providence thats in a watchful state


Knows almost every grain of Plutus gold,


Finds bottom in the uncomprehensive deeps,


Keeps place with thought and almost, like the gods,


Does thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles.


Durst never meddle--in the soul of state;


Than breath or pen can give expressure to:


All the commerce that you have had with Troy


But it must grieve young Pyrrhus now at home,


When fame shall in our islands sound her trump,


And all the Greekish girls shall tripping sing,


But our great Ajax bravely beat down him.


Farewell, my lord: I as your lover speak;


The fool slides oer the ice that you should break.


To this effect, Achilles, have I moved you:


Is not more loathed than an effeminate man


In time of action. I stand condemnd for this;


And your great love to me restrains you thus:


Sweet, rouse yourself; and the weak wanton Cupid


Shall from your neck unloose his amorous fold,


And, like a dew-drop from the lions mane,


Ay, and perhaps receive much honour by him.


Those wounds heal ill that men do give themselves:


Seals a commission to a blank of danger;


Go call Thersites hither, sweet Patroclus:


Ill send the fool to Ajax and desire him


To invite the Trojan lords after the combat


To see us here unarmd: I have a womans longing,


To see great Hector in his weeds of peace,


To talk with him and to behold his visage,


Ajax goes up and down the field, asking for himself.


He must fight singly to-morrow with Hector, and is so


prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling that he


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 twould out;


and so there is, but it lies as coldly in him as fire


in a flint, which will not show without knocking.


The mans undone forever; for if Hector break not his


neck i the combat, hell 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? Hes


grown a very land-fish, language-less, a monster.


A plague of opinion! a man may wear it on both


Thou must be my ambassador to him, Thersites.


Who, I? why, hell answer nobody; he professes not


answering: speaking is for beggars; he wears his


tongue ins arms. I will put on his presence: let


Patroclus make demands to me, you shall see the


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,


Who most humbly desires you to invite Hector to his tent,--


And to procure safe-conduct from Agamemnon.


If to-morrow be a fair day, by eleven oclock it will


go one way or other: howsoever, he shall pay for me


No, but hes out o tune thus. What music will be in


him when Hector has knocked out his brains, I know


not; but, I am sure, none, unless the fiddler Apollo


Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight.


Let me bear another to his horse; for thats the more


My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirrd;


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.


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


As you, prince Paris, nothing but heavenly business


Thats my mind too. Good morrow, Lord AEneas.


A valiant Greek, AEneas,--take his hand,--


Witness the process of your speech, wherein


You told how Diomed, a whole week by days,


During all question of the gentle truce;


But when I meet you armd, as black defiance


Our bloods are now in calm; and, so long, health!


By Jove, Ill play the hunter for thy life


And thou shalt hunt a lion, that will fly


With his face backward. In humane gentleness,


The thing he means to kill more excellently.


If to my sword his fate be not the glory,


But, in mine emulous honour, let him die,


With every joint a wound, and that to-morrow!


We do; and long to know each other worse.


This is the most despiteful gentle greeting,


The noblest hateful love, that eer I heard of.


I was sent for to the king; but why, I know not.


His purpose meets you: twas to bring this Greek


To Calchas house, and there to render him,


For the enfreed Antenor, the fair Cressid:


Lets 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


Troilus had rather Troy were borne to Greece


Will have it so. On, lord; well follow you.


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,


He merits well to have her, that doth seek her,


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 pleased to breed out your inheritors:


Both merits poised, each weighs nor less nor more;


You are too bitter to your countrywoman.


Shes bitter to her country: hear me, Paris:


A Grecians life hath sunk; for every scruple


A Trojan hath been slain: since she could speak,


She hath not given so many good words breath


As for her Greeks and Trojans sufferd death.


Dispraise the thing that you desire to buy:


But we in silence hold this virtue well,


Well but commend what we intend to sell.


SCENE II. The same. Court of Pandarus house.


Dear, trouble not yourself: the morn is cold.


Then, sweet my lord, Ill call mine uncle down;


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


And give as soft attachment to thy senses


Waked by the lark, hath roused the ribald crows,


And dreaming night will hide our joys no longer,


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.


O foolish Cressid! I might have still held off,


[Within]  What, s all the doors open here?


A pestilence on him! now will he be mocking:


How now, how now! how go maidenheads? Here, you


Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle!


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


Come, come, beshrew your heart! youll neer be good,


Ha! ha! Alas, poor wretch! ah, poor capocchia!


hast not slept to-night? would he not, a naughty


Did not I tell you? Would he were knockd i the head!


Whos 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.


Come, you are deceived, I think of no such thing.


How earnestly they knock! Pray you, come in:


I would not for half Troy have you seen here.


Whos there? whats the matter? will you beat


down the door? How now! whats the matter?


Whos there? my Lord AEneas! By my troth,


I knew you not: what news with you so early?


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


It doth import him much to speak with me.


Is he here, say you? tis more than I know, Ill


be sworn: for my own part, I came in late. What


Who!--nay, then: come, come, youll do him wrong


ere youre ware: youll be so true to him, to be


false to him: do not you know of him, but yet go


My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you,


Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour,


They are at hand and ready to effect it.


I will go meet them: and, my Lord AEneas,


We met by chance; you did not find me here.


Good, good, my lord; the secrets of nature


Ist possible? no sooner got but lost? The devil


take Antenor! the young prince will go mad: a


plague upon Antenor! I would they had broke s neck!


How now! whats the matter? who was here?


Why sigh you so profoundly? wheres my lord? gone!


Would I were as deep under the earth as I am above!


Prithee, get thee in: would thou hadst neer been


born! I knew thou wouldst be his death. O, poor


Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees! beseech you,


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;


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


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


As the sweet Troilus. O you gods divine!


Make Cressids name the very crown of falsehood,


If ever she leave Troilus! Time, force, and death,


But the strong base and building of my love


Drawing all things to it. Ill go in and weep,--


Tear my bright hair and scratch my praised cheeks,


Crack my clear voice with sobs and break my heart


With sounding Troilus. I will not go from Troy.


SCENE III. The same. Street before Pandarus house.


Enter PARIS, TROILUS, AENEAS, DEIPHOBUS, ANTENOR, and DIOMEDES


It is great morning, and the hour prefixd


Comes fast upon. Good my brother Troilus,


Think it an altar, and thy brother Troilus


A priest there offering to it his own heart.


And would, as I shall pity, I could help!


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


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


The like allayment could I give my grief.


No more my grief, in such a precious loss.


Let me embrace too. O heart, as the goodly saying is,


There was never 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?


Cressid, I love thee in so straind a purity,


That the blessd gods, as angry with my fancy,


More bright in zeal than the devotion which


Cold lips blow to their deities, take thee from me.


And is it true that I must go from Troy?


Puts back leave-taking, justles roughly by


All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips


Our lockd 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.


Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how:


As many farewells as be stars in heaven,


With distinct breath and consignd kisses to them,


And scants us with a single famishd kiss,


Distasted with the salt of broken tears.


Hark! you are calld: some say the Genius so


Cries come to him that instantly must die.


Bid them have patience; she shall come anon.


Where are my tears? rain, to lay this wind, or


A woful Cressid mongst the merry Greeks!


Hear me, my love: be thou but true of heart,--


I true! how now! what wicked deem is this?


I speak not be thou true, as fearing thee,


For I will throw my glove to Death himself,


O, you shall be exposed, my lord, to dangers


As infinite as imminent! but Ill be true.


And Ill grow friend with danger. Wear this sleeve.


And you this glove. When shall I see you?


Theyre loving, well composed with gifts of nature,


Flowing and swelling oer with arts and exercise:


How novelty may move, and parts with person,


Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin--


In this I do not call your faith in question


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-discoursive devil


That tempts most cunningly: but be not tempted.


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,


And bring AEneas and the Grecian with you.


Whiles others fish with craft for great opinion,


I with great truth catch mere simplicity;


Whilst some with cunning gild their copper crowns,


With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare.


Is plain and true; theres all the reach of it.


Enter AENEAS, PARIS, ANTENOR, DEIPHOBUS, and DIOMEDES


At the port, lord, Ill give her to thy hand,


And by the way possess thee what she is.


Entreat her fair; and, by my soul, fair Greek,


Name Cressida and thy life shall be as safe


So please you, save the thanks this prince expects:


The lustre in your eye, heaven in your cheek,


You shall be mistress, and command him wholly.


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 oer thy praises


As thou unworthy to be calld 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,


Let me be privileged by my place and message,


Ill answer to my lust: and know you, lord,


Ill nothing do on charge: to her own worth


She shall be prized; but that you say bet so,


Ill speak it in my spirit and honour, no.


Come, to the port. Ill 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.


The prince must think me tardy and remiss,


That sore to ride before him to the field.


Tis Troilus fault: come, come, to field with him.


Let us address to tend on Hectors heels:


SCENE V. The Grecian camp. Lists set out.


Enter AJAX, armed; AGAMEMNON, ACHILLES, PATROCLUS, MENELAUS, ULYSSES, NESTOR, and others


Here art thou in appointment fresh and fair,


Anticipating time with starting courage.


Give with thy trumpet a loud note to Troy,


Thou dreadful Ajax; that the appalled air


May pierce the head of the great combatant


Now crack thy lungs, and split thy brazen pipe:


Blow, villain, till thy sphered bias cheek


Come, stretch thy chest and let thy eyes spout blood;


Is not yond Diomed, with Calchas daughter?


Most dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet lady.


Our general doth salute you with a kiss.


Ill take what winter from your lips, fair lady:


O deadly gall, and theme of all our scorns!


For which we lose our heads to gild his horns.


The first was Menelaus kiss; this, mine:


Ill have my kiss, sir. Lady, by your leave.


The kiss you take is better than you give;


Ill give you boot, Ill give you three for one.


Youre an odd man; give even or give none.


No, Paris is not; for you know tis true,


That you are odd, and he is even with you.


It were no match, your nail against his horn.


Why then for Venus sake, give me a kiss,


I am your debtor, claim it when tis due.


Lady, a word: Ill bring you to your father.


Theres language in her eye, her cheek, her lip,


Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out


O, these encounterers, so glib of tongue,


That give accosting welcome ere it comes,


And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts


Enter HECTOR, armed; AENEAS, TROILUS, and other Trojans, with Attendants


Hail, all you state of Greece! what shall be done


To him that victory commands? or do you purpose


A victor shall be known? will you the knights


Tis done like Hector; but securely done,


A little proudly, and great deal misprizing


Therefore Achilles: but, whateer, know this:


Valour and pride excel themselves in Hector;


The other blank as nothing. Weigh him well,


And that which looks like pride is courtesy.


This Ajax is half made of Hectors blood:


In love whereof, half Hector stays at home;


Half heart, half hand, half Hector comes to seek


This blended knight, half Trojan and half Greek.


A maiden battle, then? O, I perceive you.


Stand by our Ajax: as you and Lord AEneas


Or else a breath: the combatants being kin


Half stints their strife before their strokes begin.


What Trojan is that same that looks so heavy?


The youngest son of Priam, a true knight,


Not yet mature, yet matchless, firm of word,


Speaking in deeds and deedless in his tongue;


Not soon provoked nor being provoked soon calmd:


His heart and hand both open and both free;


For what he has he gives, what thinks he shows;


Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty,


Nor dignifies an impure thought with breath;


For Hector in his blaze of wrath subscribes


To tender objects, but he in heat of action


A second hope, as fairly built as Hector.


Thus says AEneas; one that knows the youth


Even to his inches, and with private soul


Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me.


His blows are well disposed: there, Ajax!


Thou art, great lord, my fathers sisters son,


That thou couldst say This hand is Grecian all,


And this is Trojan; the sinews of this leg


All Greek, and this all Troy; my mothers blood


Runs on the dexter cheek, and this sinister


Bounds in my fathers; by Jove multipotent,


Thou shouldst not bear from me a Greekish member


Wherein my sword had not impressure made


Of our rank feud: but the just gods gainsay


That any drop thou borrowdst from thy mother,


My sacred aunt, should by my mortal sword


By him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms;


Hector would have them fall upon him thus:


I came to kill thee, cousin, and bear hence


On whose bright crest Fame with her loudst Oyes


Cries This is he, could promise to himself


A thought of added honour torn from Hector.


There is expectance here from both the sides,


The issue is embracement: Ajax, farewell.


As seld I have the chance--I would desire


Doth long to see unarmd the valiant Hector.


Desire them home. Give me thy hand, my cousin;


I will go eat with thee and see your knights.


The worthiest of them tell me name by name;


But for Achilles, mine own searching eyes


Shall find him by his large and portly size.


But thats no welcome: understand more clear,


Whats past and whats to come is strewd with husks


But in this extant moment, faith and troth,


Straind purely from all hollow bias-drawing,


From heart of very heart, great Hector, welcome.


[To TROILUS]  My well-famed lord of Troy, no


Let me confirm my princely brothers greeting:


You brace of warlike brothers, welcome hither.


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:


Shes well, but bade me not commend her to you.


Name her not now, sir; shes a deadly theme.


I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft


Through ranks of Greekish youth, and I have seen thee,


As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed,


Despising many forfeits and subduements,


When thou hast hung thy advanced sword i the air,


And I have seen thee pause and take thy breath,


When that a ring of Greeks have hemmd thee in,


Like an Olympian wrestling: this have I seen;


But this thy countenance, still lockd 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 saw like thee. Let an old man embrace thee;


And, worthy warrior, welcome to our tents.


Let me embrace thee, good old chronicle,


That hast so long walkd hand in hand with time:


Most reverend Nestor, I am glad to clasp thee.


I would my arms could match thee in contention,


By this white beard, Ild fight with thee to-morrow.


Well, welcome, welcome! I have seen the time.


When we have here her base and pillar by us.


Ah, sir, theres many a Greek and Trojan dead,


Sir, I foretold you then what would ensue:


My prophecy is but half his journey yet;


For yonder walls, that pertly front your town,


Yond towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds,


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,


Most gentle and most valiant Hector, welcome:


I shall forestall thee, Lord Ulysses, thou!


Now, Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee;


I have with exact view perused thee, Hector,


Stand fair, I pray thee: let me look on thee.


Thou art too brief: I will the second time,


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


O, like a book of sport thoult read me oer;


But theres more in me than thou understandst.


Why dost thou so oppress me with thine eye?


Tell me, you heavens, in which part of his body


Shall I destroy him? whether there, or there, or there?


And make distinct the very breach whereout


Hectors great spirit flew: answer me, heavens!


It would discredit the blest gods, proud man,


Thinkst thou to catch my life so pleasantly


Id not believe thee. Henceforth guard thee well;


For Ill not kill thee there, nor there, nor there;


But, by the forge that stithied Mars his helm,


Ill kill thee every where, yea, oer and oer.


You wisest Grecians, pardon me this brag;


But Ill endeavour deeds to match these words,


And you, Achilles, let these threats alone,


If you have stomach; the general state, I fear,


Can scarce entreat you to be odd with him.


I pray you, let us see you in the field:


We have had pelting wars, since you refused


To-morrow do I meet thee, fell as death;


First, all you peers of Greece, go to my tent;


There in the full convive we: afterwards,


As Hectors leisure and your bounties shall


Beat loud the tabourines, let the trumpets blow,


That this great soldier may his welcome know.


My Lord Ulysses, tell me, I beseech you,


In what place of the field doth Calchas keep?


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


Shall sweet lord, be bound to you so much,


This Cressida in Troy? Had she no lover there


O, sir, to such as boasting show 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 fortunes tooth.


SCENE I. The Grecian camp. Before Achilles tent.


Ill heat his blood with Greekish wine to-night,


Which with my scimitar Ill cool to-morrow.


Patroclus, let us feast him to the height.


Thou crusty batch of nature, whats the news?


Why, thou picture of what thou seemest, and idol


of idiot worshippers, heres a letter for thee.


The surgeons box, or the patients wound.


Well said, adversity! and what need these tricks?


Prithee, be silent, boy; I profit not by thy talk:


thou art thought to be Achilles male varlet.


Why, his masculine whore. Now, the rotten diseases


of the south, the guts-griping, ruptures, catarrhs,


loads o gravel i 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


Why thou damnable box of envy, thou, what meanest


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 prodigals


purse, thou? Ah, how the poor world is pestered


with such waterflies, diminutives of nature!


From my great purpose in to-morrows battle.


A token from her daughter, my fair love,


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


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


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


This night in banqueting must all be spent.


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, Ill be a curer of madmen.


Heres 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 brothers


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!


Enter HECTOR, TROILUS, AJAX, AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, NESTOR, MENELAUS, and DIOMEDES, with lights


Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, princes all.


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


Thanks and good night to the Greeks general.


Sweet draught: sweet quoth a! sweet sink,


Good night and welcome, both at once, to those


Old Nestor tarries; and you too, Diomed,


I cannot, lord; I have important business,


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


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


Exit DIOMEDES; ULYSSES and TROILUS following


Exeunt ACHILLES, HECTOR, AJAX, and NESTOR


That same Diomeds 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: Ill


after. Nothing but lechery! all incontinent varlets!


SCENE II. The same. Before Calchas tent.


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


Stand where the torch may not discover us.


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


And any man may sing her, if he can take her cliff;


And let your mind be coupled with your words.


Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly.


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


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


What did you swear you would bestow on me?


Bid me do any thing but that, sweet Greek.


No, no, good night: Ill be your fool no more.


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.


You flow to great distraction; come, my lord.


I pray you, stay; by hell and all hells torments


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


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


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.


How the devil Luxury, with his fat rump and


potato-finger, tickles these together! Fry, lechery, fry!


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


Give me some token for the surety of it.


I will not be myself, nor have cognition


You look upon that sleeve; behold it well.


He loved me--O false wench!--Givet me again.


I will not meet with you to-morrow night:


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


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


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


He that takes that doth take my heart withal.


I had your heart before, this follows it.


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


Twas ones that loved me better than you will.


And by herself, I will not tell you whose.


And grieve his spirit that dares not challenge it.


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


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


You shall not go: one cannot speak a word,


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


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


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,


What error leads must err; O, then conclude


Minds swayd by eyes are full of turpitude.


A proof of strength she could not publish more,


Unless she said  My mind is now turnd whore.


Sith yet there is a credence in my heart,


That doth invert the attest of eyes and ears,


As if those organs had deceptious functions,


Why, my negation hath no taste of madness.


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


Think, we had mothers; do not give advantage


To stubborn critics, apt, without a theme,


For depravation, to square the general sex


By Cressids rule: rather think this not Cressid.


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


Nothing at all, unless that this were she.


Will he swagger himself out ons own eyes?


If souls guide vows, if vows be sanctimonies,


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


Instance, O instance! strong as Plutos gates;


Cressid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven:


Instance, O instance! strong as heaven itself;


The bonds of heaven are slippd, 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 oer-eaten faith, are bound to Diomed.


With that which here his passion doth express?


Ay, Greek; and that shall be divulged well


Inflamed with Venus: never did young man fancy


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


That sleeve is mine that hell bear on his helm;


Were it a casque composed by Vulcans skill,


My sword should bite it: not the dreadful spout


Constringed in mass by the almighty sun,


Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptunes ear


In his descent than shall my prompted sword


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


Let all untruths stand by thy stained name,


I have been seeking you this hour, my lord:


Ajax, your guard, stays to conduct you home.


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


Stand fast, and wear a castle on thy head!


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!


When was my lord so much ungently temperd,


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


Here, sister; armd, and bloody in intent.


Consort with me in loud and dear petition,


Pursue we him on knees; for I have dreamd


Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night


Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter.


No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet brother.


Be gone, I say: the gods have heard me swear.


The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows:


They are polluted offerings, more abhorrd


For we would give much, to use violent thefts,


It is the purpose that makes strong the vow;


But vows to every purpose must not hold:


Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate:


Lie every man holds dear; but the brave man


Holds honour far more precious-dear than life.


How now, young man! meanst thou to fight to-day?


No, faith, young Troilus; doff thy harness, youth;


Let grow thy sinews till their knots be strong,


And tempt not yet the brushes of the war.


Unarm thee, go, and doubt thou not, brave boy,


Ill stand to-day for thee and me and Troy.


Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you,


What vice is that, good Troilus? chide me for it.


When many times the captive Grecian falls,


Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword,


Lets leave the hermit pity with our mothers,


And when we have our armours buckled on,


The venomd vengeance ride upon our swords,


Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth.


Troilus, I would not have you fight to-day.


Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars


Beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire;


Their eyes oergalled with recourse of tears;


Not you, my brother, with your true sword drawn,


Opposed to  hinder me, should stop my way,


Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him fast:


He is thy crutch; now if thou lose thy stay,


Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee,


Thy wife hath dreamd; thy mother hath had visions;


You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sir,


Let me not shame respect; but give me leave


To take that course by your consent and voice,


Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam.


This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl


Look, how thou diest! look, how thy eye turns pale!


Look, how thy wounds do bleed at many vents!


Hark, how Troy roars! how Hecuba cries out!


How poor Andromache shrills her dolours forth!


Behold, distraction, frenzy and amazement,


And all cry, Hector! Hectors dead! O Hector!


Farewell: yet, soft! Hector! take my leave:


Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive.


You are amazed, my liege, at her exclaim:


Go in and cheer the town: well forth and fight,


Do deeds worth praise and tell you them at night.


Farewell: the gods with safety stand about thee!


Exeunt severally PRIAM and HECTOR. Alarums


They are at it, hark! Proud Diomed, believe,


I come to lose my arm, or win my sleeve.


Heres a letter come from yond poor girl.


A whoreson tisick, a whoreson rascally tisick so


troubles me, and the foolish fortune of this girl;


and what one thing, what another, that I shall


leave you one o these days: and I have a rheum


in mine eyes too, and such an ache in my bones


that, unless a man were cursed, I cannot tell what


Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart:


Go, wind, to wind, there turn and change together.


My love with words and errors still she feeds;


SCENE IV. Plains between Troy and the Grecian camp.


Now they are clapper-clawing one another; Ill go


look on. That dissembling abominable varlets Diomed,


has got that same scurvy doting foolish young knaves


sleeve of Troy there in his helm: I would fain see


them meet; that that same young Trojan ass, that


loves the whore there, might send that Greekish


whore-masterly villain, with the sleeve, back to the


dissembling luxurious drab, of a sleeveless errand.


O the tother side, the policy of those crafty


swearing rascals, that stale old mouse-eaten dry


cheese, Nestor, and that same dog-fox, Ulysses, is


not proved worthy a blackberry: they set me up, in


policy, that mongrel cur, Ajax, against that dog of


as bad a kind, Achilles: and now is the cur Ajax


prouder than the cur Achilles, and will not arm


to-day; whereupon the Grecians begin to proclaim


barbarism, and policy grows into an ill opinion.