Hect. Paris, and Troilus, you have both said well;
And on the cause and question now in hand
Have gloz'd, but superficially; not much
Unlike young men, whom Aristotle thought
Unfit to hear moral philosophy:

The reasons, you allege, do more conduce
To the hot passion of distemper'd blood,
Than to make up a free determination
'Twixt right and wrong; for pleasure and revenge
Have ears more deaf, than adders to the voice
Of any true decision. Nature craves,
All dues be render'd to their owners; now,
What nearer debt in all humanity,
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-order'd nation
To curb those raging appetites that are
Most disobedient and refractory.

If Helen then be wife to Sparta's king, —
As it is known she is, these moral laws
Of nature, and of nations, speak aloud
To have her back return'd: thus to persist
In doing wrong, extenuates not wrong,

But makes it much more heavy. Hector's opinion
Is this, in way of truth: yet, ne'ertheless,
My spritely brethren, I propend to you
In resolution to keep Helen still;

For 'tis a cause, that hath no mean dependance
Upon our joint and several dignities.

Tro. Why, there you touch'd the life of our design:
Were it not glory that we more affected
Than the performance of our heaving spleens,
I would not wish a drop of Trojan blood
Spent more in her defence. But, worthy Hector,
She is a theme of honour and renown;
A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds;
Whose present courage may beat down our foes,
And fame, in time to come, canonize us:
For, I presume, brave Hector would not lose
So rich advantage of a promis'd glory,
As smiles upon the forehead of this action,
For the wide world's revenue.

geance on the whole camp! or, rather, the boneache! for that, methinks, is the curse dependant on those that war for a placket. I have said my prayers; and devil, envy,say Amen. What, ho! my lord Achilles ! Enter PATROCLUS.

Patr. Who's there? Thersites? Good Thersites, come in and rail!

Ther. If I could have remembered a gilt counterfeit, thou wouldest 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, I'll be sworn and sworn upon't, she never shrouded any but lazars. Amen. Where's Achilles?

Patr. What, art thou devout? wast thou in prayer?
Ther. Ay; the heavens hear me !
Enter ACHILLES.

Ther. Make that demand of the prover; it suffices me, thou art. Look you, who comes here? Enter AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, NESTOR, Diomedes, and AJAX. - Come [Exit.

Achil. Patroclus, I'll speak with nobody. in with me, Thersites ! Ther. 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 to bleed to death upon. Now the dry serpigo on the subject! and war,and lechery, confound all! [Exit. Agam. Where is Achilles? Patr. Within his tent; but ill dispos'd, my lord! Agam. Let it be known to him, that we are here. He shent our messengers; and we lay by Our appertainments, visiting of him: Let him be told so; lest, perchance, he think We dare not move the question of our place, Or know not what we are. Patr. I shall say so to him. Ulys. We saw him at the opening of his tent; He is not sick.

Enter THERSITES. Ther. 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, I'll learn to conjure and raise devils, but I'll see some issue of my spiteful execrations. Then there's Achilles, - a rare engineer. 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 mas- Ajax. Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart: you sy irons, and cutting the web. After this, the ven-' may call it melancholy, if you will favour the man;

[Exit.

1

So great as our dread father, in a scale
Of common ounces? will you with counters sum
The past-proportion of his infinite?
And buckle-in a waist most fathomless,
With spans and inches so diminutive

As fears and reasons? fye, for godly shame!
Hel. 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?
Tro. You are for dreams and slumbers, brother
priest,

You fur your gloves with reason. Here are your

reasons:

That in their country did them that disgrace,
We fear to warrant in our native place!
Cas. [Within.] Cry, Trojans, cry!
Pri. What noise? what shriek is this?
Tro. 'Tis our mad sister, I do know her voice.
Cas. [Within.] Cry, Trojans!
Hect. It is Cassandra.

You know, an enemy intends you harm;
You know, a sword, employ'd, is perilous,
And reason flies the object of all harm:
Who marvels then, when Helenus beholds
A Grecian and his sword, if he do set
The very wings of reason to his heels;
And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove,
Or like a star dis-orb'd? - Nay, if we talk of reason,
Let's shut our gates, and sleep: manhood and honour
Should have hare hearts, would they but fat their
thoughts

With this cramm'd reason: reason and respect
Make livers pale, and lustihood deject.

Hect. Brother, she is not worth what she doth cost
The holding

Tro. What is aught, but as 'tis valued?
Hect. But value dwells not in particular will;
It holds its estimate and dignity

Enter CASSANDRA, raving.

Cas. Cry, Trojans, cry! lend me ten thousand eyes,
And I will fill them with prophetic tears.
Hect. Peace, sister, peace!

Cas. Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled elders,
Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry,
Add to my clamours! let us pay betimes
A moiety of that mass of moan to come.
Cry, Trojans, cry! practise your eyes with tears!
Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand;
Our fire-brand brother, Paris, burns us all.
Cry, Trojans, cry! a Helen, and a woe:
Cry, cry! Troy burns, or else let Helen go! [Exit.
Hect. Now, youthful Troilus, do not these high

strains

Of divination in our sister work

Some touches of remorse? or is your blood
So madly hot, that no discourse of reason,
Nor fear of bad success in a bad cause,
Can qualify the same?

Tro. Why, brother Hector,

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 Cassandra's mad: her brain-sick raptures
Cannot distaste the goodness of a quarrel,
Which hath our several honours all engag'd
To make it gracious. For my private part,
I am no more touch'd, than all Priam's sons:
And Jove forbid, there should be done amongst us
Such things, as might offend the weakest spleen
To fight for and maintain!

As well wherein 'tis precious of itself
As in the prizer: 'tis mad idolatry,
To make the service greater than the god;
And the will dotes, that is attributive
To what infectiously itself affects,
Without some image of the affected merit.
Tro. I take to-day a wife, and my election
Is led on in the conduct of my will;
My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears,
Two traded pilots 'twixt the dangerous shores
Of will and judgment: how may I avoid,
Although my will distaste what it elected,
The wife I chose? there can be no evasion
To bleach from this, and to stand firm by honour:
We turn not back the silks upon the merchant,
When we have soil'd them; nor the remainder viands
We do not throw in unrespective sieve,
Because we now are full. It was thought meet,
Paris should do some vengeance on the Greeks:
Your breath with full consent bellied his sails;
The seas and winds (old wranglers) took a truce,
And did him service: he touch'd the ports desir'd; Like o
And, for an old aunt, whom the Greeks held captive, You
He brought a Grecian queen, whose youth and fresh- So

ness

Wrinkles Apollo's, and makes pale the morning.
Why keep we her? the Grecians keep our aunt:
Is she worth keeping? why, she is a pearl,
Whose price hath launch'd above a thousand ship
And turn'd crown'd kings to merchants.
If you'll avouch, 'twas wisdom Paris went,
(As you must needs, for yon all cry'd-Go, go
If you'll confess, he brought home noble pri
(As you must needs, for you all clapp'd your
And cry'd- Inestimable!) why do you now
The issue of your proper wisdoms rate;
And do a deed, that fortune never did,
Beggar the estimation which you prized
Richer than sea and land? O theft most
That we have stolen what we do fear to
But, thieves, unworthy of a thing so

Par. Else might the world convince of levity
As well my undertakings, as your counsels:
But I attest the gods, your full consent
Gave wings to my propension, and cut off
All fears attending on so dire a project.
For what, alas, can these my single arms?
What propugnation is in one man's valour,
To stand the push and enmity of those
This quarrel wo excite? Yet, I protest,,
Were I alone
the difficulties,
And had as
ower as I have will,
Paris shoul
etract what he hath done
Nor faint
rsuit.
Pri. Pa

on your sweet delights ay still, but these the gall no praise at all. pose not merely to myself uch a beauty brings with the soil of her fair rap nourable keeping her. are it to the ransack great worths

but, by my head, 'tis pride. But why, why? let him
show us a cause.-.
- A word, my lord!
[Takes Agamemnon aside.
Nest. What moves Ajax thus to bay at him?
Ulys. Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him.
Nest. Who? Thersites?
Ulys. He.

.

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

Ulys. No; you see, he is his argument, that has his argument; Achilles.

Nest. All the better; their fraction is more our wish, than their faction: but it was a strong composure, a fool could disunite.

Ulys. The amity, that wisdom knits not, folly may

easily untie. Here comes Patroclus.

Re-enter PATROCLUS.

Nest. No Achilles with him.
Ulys. The elephant hath joints, but none for cour-
tesy; his legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure.
Patr. Achilles bids me say he is much sorry,
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,
An after-dinner's breath.

Agam. Hear you, Patroclus!

We are too well acquainted with these answers:
But his evasion, wing'd thus swift with scorn,
Cannot outfly our apprehensions.

--

Much attribute he hath; and much the reason
Why we ascribe it to him: yet all his virtues,
Not virtuously on his own part beheld,
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,
If you do say- --we think him over-proud,

And under-honest; in self-assumption greater,
Than in the note of judgment; and worthier than
self

chronicle; and whatever praises itself but in the
deed, devours the deed in the praise.
Ajax. I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engend-
ering of toads.

Nest. And yet he loves himself. Is it not strange?

Re-enter ULYSSES,

[Aside.

Po

Ulys. Achilles will not to the field to-morrow.
Agam. What's his excuse?
Ulys. He doth rely on none;
Without observance or respect of any,
But carries on the stream of his dispose,
In will peculiar and in self-admission.
Untent his person, and share the air with us?
Agam. Why will he not, upon our fair request,
Ulys. Things small as nothing, for request's sake
only,

He makes important. Possess'd he is with greatness;
And speaks not to himself, but with a pride
That quarrels at self-breath: imagin'd worth
Holds in his blood such swoln and hot discourse,
That, 'twixt his mental and his active parts,
Kingdom'd Achilles in commotion rages,
And batters down himself. What should I say?
He is so plaguy proud, that the death-tokens of it
Cry: No recovery.

Agam. Let Ajax go to him.

Dear lord, go you and greet him in his tent:
'Tis said, he holds you well; and will be led,
At your request, a little from himself.
Ulys. O Agamemnou, let it not be so!
We'll consecrate the steps, that Ajax makes
When they go from Achilles. Shall the proud lord,
That bastes his arrogance with his own seam;
And never suffers matter of the world
Enter his thoughts, save such as do revolve
And ruminate himself, shall he be worshipp'd
Of that we hold an idol more than he?

him-No, this thrice-worthy and right-valiant lord
Must not so stale his palm, nobly acquir'd;
Nor, by my will, assubjugate his merit,
As amply titled as Achilles is,

Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on;
Disguise the holy strength of their command,
And underwrite in an observing kind
His humorous predominance; yea, watch
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,
That, if he overhold his price so much,
We'll none of him; but let him, like an engine
Not portable, lie under this report
Bring action hither, this cannot go to war:
A stirring dwarf we do allowance give
Before a sleeping giant. — Tell him so!
Patr. I shall; and bring his answer presently. [Exit.
Agam. In second voice we'll not be satisfied,
We come to speak with him.- Ulysses, enter!
[Exit Ulysses.

Ajax. What is he more than another?
Agam. No more than what he thinks he is.
Ajax. Is he so much? Do you not think,
thinks himself a better man than I am?
Agam. No question.

Ajax. Will you subscribe his thought, and say he is.

By going to Achilles:

That were to enlard his fat-already pride;
And add more coals to Cancer, when he burns
With entertaining great Hyperion.
This lord go to him! Jupiter forbid;
And say in thunder. Achilles, go to him!
Nest. O, this is well; he rubs the vein of him. [Aside.
Dio. And how his silence drinks up this applause!
Aside.

Ajax. IfI go to him, with my arm'd fist I'll pash him

Over the face.

Ajax. A paltry, insolent fellow, he Nest. How he describes

Agam. No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as valiant, as wise, no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether more tractable.

Ajax. Why should a man be proud? How doth pride grow? I know not what pride is.

Agam. Your mind's 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

Himself!,

Ajax. Can he not be sociable?
Ulys. The raven
Chides blackness.

-

[Aside.

[Aside

[Aside.
[Aside.

Nest. An 'twould, you'd carry half.
Ulys. He'd have ten shares.
Ajax. I'll knead him, I'll make him supple:
Nest. He's not yet through warm: force him with
praises:

Pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry. [Aside.
Uly's. My lord, you feed too much on this dislike.
[To Agamemnon.

Nest. O noble general, do not do so!
Dio. You must prepare to fight without Achilles.
Ulys. Why, 'tis this naming of him does him harm.
Here is a man-But 'tis before his face;

I will be silent.

Nest. Wherefore should you so?

He is not emulous, as Achilles is.

Ulys. Know the whole world, he is as valiant. Ajax. A whoreson dog, that shall palter thus with us! I would, he were a Trojan!

Nest. What a vice

Were it in Ajax now-
Ulys. If he were proud?
Dio. Or covetous of praise?
Ulys. Ay, or surly borne?

Dio. Or strange, or self-affected?

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

Praise him that got thee, she that gave thee suck:
Fam'd be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature
Thrice-fam'd, beyond all erudition:
But he that disciplin'd thy arms to fight,
Let Mars divide eternity in twain,
And give him half: and, for thy vigour,
Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield

To sinewy Ajax. I'll not praise thy wisdom,
Which, like a bourn, a pale, a shore, confines
Thy spacious and dilated parts: here's Nestor,—
Instructed by the antiquary times,

He must, he is, he cannot but be wise;-
But pardon, father Nestor, were your days
As green as Ajax', and your brain so temper'd,
You should not have the eminence of him,
But be as Ajax.

Ajax. Shall I call you father?

Nest. Ay, my good son!

Dio. Be rul'd by him, lord Ajax!

Ulys. There is no tarrying here; the hart Achilles
Keeps thicket. Please it our great general
To call together all his state of war;
Fresh kings are come to Troy: to-morrow,
We must with all our main of power stand fast ·
And here's a lord, come knights from east to west,
And cull their flower, Ajax shall cope the best.
Agam. Go we to council! Let Achilles sleep:
Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw
deep.
[Exeunt.

SCENE I.

-

А СТ

III.

Troy. A room in PRIAM's palace.
Enter PANDARUS and a Servant.
Pan. Friend! you! pray you, a word! Do not you
follow the young lord Paris?

Serv. Ay, sir, when he goes before me.

Pan. You do depend upon him, I mean?

Serv. Sir, I do depend upon the lord.

Serv. You are in a state of grace. [Music within Pan. Grace! not so, friend; honour and lordship are my titles! - What music is this?

Serv. I do but partly know, sir; it is music in parts.
Pan. Know you the musicians?
Serv. Wholly, sir.
Pan. Who play they to?
Serv. To the hearers, sir.
Pan. At whose pleasure, friend?

Serv. At mine, sir, and theirs that love music.
Pan. Command, I mean, friend!

Serv. Who shall I command, sir?

Pan. Friend, we understand not one another; I am too courtly, and thou art too cunning. At whose request do these men play?

Serv. That's to't, indeed, sir! Marry, sir, at the request of Paris my lord, who is there in person; with him, the mortal Venus, the heartblood of beauty, love's invisible soul,

Pan. Who, my cousin Cressida ?

Serv. No, sir, Helen. Could you not find out that by her attributes?

Pan. I 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 upon him, for my business seeths. Serv.Sodden business!there's a stewed phrase,indeed! Enter PARIS and HELEN, attended.

Pan. 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! fair thoughts be your fair pillow!

Helen. Dear lord, you are full of fair words. Pan. You speak your fair pleasure, sweet queen!· Fair prince, here is good broken music!

Par. 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 of harmony.

Pan. Truly, lady, no,—

Helen. O, sir,

Pan. Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude! Pur. Well said, my lord! well, you say so in fits. Pan. I have business to my lord, dear queen!-My lord, will you vouchsafe me a word?

Helen. Nay, this shall not hedge us out: we'll hear you sing, certainly!

Pan. Well, sweet queen, you are pleasant with me.→ But (marry) thus, my lord,- My dear lord, and most esteemed friend, your brother Troilus

Helen. My lord Pandarus; honey-sweet lord,Pan. Go to, sweet queen, go to !-commends himself most affectionately to you.

Helen. You shall not bob us out of our melody.
If you do, our melancholy upon your head!
Pun. Sweet queen,sweet queen; that's a sweet queen,
i'faith!

Helen. And to make a sweet lady sad, is a sour offence. Pan. Nay, that shall not serve your turn; that shall it 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. Helen. My lord Pandarus,-

'Pan. What says my sweet queen?-my very very sweet queen?

Pan. You do depend upon a noble gentleman; I Par.What exploit's in hand? where sups he to-night?

must needs praise him.

Serv. The lord be praised!

Pan. You know me, do you not?

Serv. 'Faith, sir, superficially.

Pan. Friend,know me better; I am the lord Pandarus.
Serv. I hope I shall know your honour better.
Pan. I do desire it.

Helen. Nay, but my lord,—

Pan. What says my sweet queen?-My cousin will fall out with you. You must not know where he sups. Pan. No, no, no such matter, you are wide; come, Par. I'll lay my life, with my disposer Cressida. your disposer is sick.

Par. Well, I'll make excuse.