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    Complete Plays, The

    Page 83
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      With wings more momentary-swift than thought.

      You will catch cold, and curse me.

      Cressida

      Prithee, tarry:

      You men will never tarry.

      O foolish Cressid! I might have still held off,

      And then you would have tarried. Hark!

      there’s one up.

      Pandarus

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

      Troilus

      It is your uncle.

      Cressida

      A pestilence on him! now will he be mocking:

      I shall have such a life!

      Enter Pandarus

      Pandarus

      How now, how now! how go maidenheads? Here, you maid! where’s my cousin Cressid?

      Cressida

      Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle!

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

      Pandarus

      To do what? to do what? let her say what: what have I brought you to do?

      Cressida

      Come, come, beshrew your heart! you’ll ne’er be good,

      Nor suffer others.

      Pandarus

      Ha! ha! Alas, poor wretch! ah, poor capocchia! hast not slept to-night? would he not, a naughty man, let it sleep? a bugbear take him!

      Cressida

      Did not I tell you? Would he were knock’d i’ the head!

      Knocking within

      Who’s 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.

      Troilus

      Ha, ha!

      Cressida

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

      Knocking within

      How earnestly they knock! Pray you, come in:

      I would not for half Troy have you seen here.

      Exeunt Troilus and Cressida

      Pandarus

      Who’s there? what’s the matter? will you beat down the door? How now! what’s the matter?

      Enter Aeneas

      Aeneas

      Good morrow, lord, good morrow.

      Pandarus

      Who’s there? my Lord Aeneas! By my troth,

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

      Aeneas

      Is not Prince Troilus here?

      Pandarus

      Here! what should he do here?

      Aeneas

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

      It doth import him much to speak with me.

      Pandarus

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

      Aeneas

      Who!— nay, then: come, come, you’ll do him wrong ere you’re ware: you’ll be so true to him, to be false to him: do not you know of him, but yet go fetch him hither; go.

      Re-enter Troilus

      Troilus

      How now! what’s the matter?

      Aeneas

      My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you,

      My matter is so rash: there is at hand

      Paris your brother, and Deiphobus,

      The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor

      Deliver’d to us; and for him forthwith,

      Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour,

      We must give up to Diomedes’ hand

      The Lady Cressida.

      Troilus

      Is it so concluded?

      Aeneas

      By Priam and the general state of Troy:

      They are at hand and ready to effect it.

      Troilus

      How my achievements mock me!

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

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

      Aeneas

      Good, good, my lord; the secrets of nature

      Have not more gift in taciturnity.

      Exeunt Troilus and Aeneas

      Pandarus

      Is’t 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!

      Re-enter Cressida

      Cressida

      How now! what’s the matter? who was here?

      Pandarus

      Ah, ah!

      Cressida

      Why sigh you so profoundly? where’s my lord? gone!

      Tell me, sweet uncle, what’s the matter?

      Pandarus

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

      Cressida

      O the gods! what’s the matter?

      Pandarus

      Prithee, get thee in: would thou hadst ne’er been born! I knew thou wouldst be his death. O, poor gentleman! A plague upon Antenor!

      Cressida

      Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees! beseech you, what’s the matter?

      Pandarus

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

      Cressida

      O you immortal gods! I will not go.

      Pandarus

      Thou must.

      Cressida

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

      I know no touch of consanguinity;

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

      As the sweet Troilus. O you gods divine!

      Make Cressid’s name the very crown of falsehood,

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

      Do to this body what extremes you can;

      But the strong base and building of my love

      Is as the very centre of the earth,

      Drawing all things to it. I’ll go in and weep,—

      Pandarus

      Do, do.

      Cressida

      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.

      Exeunt

      SCENE III. THE SAME. STREET BEFORE PANDARUS’ HOUSE.

      Enter Paris, Troilus, Aeneas, Deiphobus, Antenor, and Diomedes

      Paris

      It is great morning, and the hour prefix’d

      Of her delivery to this valiant Greek

      Comes fast upon. Good my brother Troilus,

      Tell you the lady what she is to do,

      And haste her to the purpose.

      Troilus

      Walk into her house;

      I’ll bring her to the Grecian presently:

      And to his hand when I deliver her,

      Think it an altar, and thy brother Troilus

      A priest there offering to it his own heart.

      Exit

      Paris

      I know what ’tis to love;

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

      Please you walk in, my lords.

      Exeunt

      SCENE IV. THE SAME. PANDARUS’ HOUSE.

      Enter Pandarus and Cressida

      Pandarus

      Be moderate, be moderate.

      Cressida

      Why tell you me of moderation?

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

      And violenteth in a sense as strong

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

      If I could temporize with my affection,

      Or brew it to a weak and colder palate,

      The like allayment could I give my grief.

      My love admits no qualifying dross;

      No more my grief, in such a precious loss.

      Pandarus

      Here, here, here he comes.

      Enter Troilus

      Ah, sweet ducks!

      Cressida

      O Troilus! Troilus!

      Embracing him

      Pandarus

      What a pair of spectacles is here!

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

      ‘— O heart, heavy heart,


      Why sigh’st thou without breaking?

      where he answers again,

      ‘Because thou canst not ease thy smart

      By friendship nor by speaking.’

      There 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?

      Troilus

      Cressid, I love thee in so strain’d a purity,

      That the bless’d gods, as angry with my fancy,

      More bright in zeal than the devotion which

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

      Cressida

      Have the gods envy?

      Pandarus

      Ay, ay, ay, ay; ’tis too plain a case.

      Cressida

      And is it true that I must go from Troy?

      Troilus

      A hateful truth.

      Cressida

      What, and from Troilus too?

      Troilus

      From Troy and Troilus.

      Cressida

      Is it possible?

      Troilus

      And suddenly; where injury of chance

      Puts back leave-taking, justles roughly by

      All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips

      Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents

      Our lock’d embrasures, strangles our dear vows

      Even in the birth of our own labouring breath:

      We two, that with so many thousand sighs

      Did buy each other, must poorly sell ourselves

      With the rude brevity and discharge of one.

      Injurious time now with a robber’s haste

      Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how:

      As many farewells as be stars in heaven,

      With distinct breath and consign’d kisses to them,

      He fumbles up into a lose adieu,

      And scants us with a single famish’d kiss,

      Distasted with the salt of broken tears.

      Aeneas

      [Within] My lord, is the lady ready?

      Troilus

      Hark! you are call’d: some say the Genius so

      Cries ‘come’ to him that instantly must die.

      Bid them have patience; she shall come anon.

      Pandarus

      Where are my tears? rain, to lay this wind, or my heart will be blown up by the root.

      Exit

      Cressida

      I must then to the Grecians?

      Troilus

      No remedy.

      Cressida

      A woful Cressid ’mongst the merry Greeks!

      When shall we see again?

      Troilus

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

      Cressida

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

      Troilus

      Nay, we must use expostulation kindly,

      For it is parting from us:

      I speak not ‘be thou true,’ as fearing thee,

      For I will throw my glove to Death himself,

      That there’s no maculation in thy heart:

      But ‘be thou true,’ say I, to fashion in

      My sequent protestation; be thou true,

      And I will see thee.

      Cressida

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

      As infinite as imminent! but I’ll be true.

      Troilus

      And I’ll grow friend with danger. Wear this sleeve.

      Cressida

      And you this glove. When shall I see you?

      Troilus

      I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels,

      To give thee nightly visitation.

      But yet be true.

      Cressida

      O heavens! ‘be true’ again!

      Troilus

      Hear while I speak it, love:

      The Grecian youths are full of quality;

      They’re loving, well composed with gifts of nature,

      Flowing and swelling o’er with arts and exercise:

      How novelty may move, and parts with person,

      Alas, a kind of godly jealousy —

      Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin —

      Makes me afeard.

      Cressida

      O heavens! you love me not.

      Troilus

      Die I a villain, then!

      In this I do not call your faith in question

      So mainly as my merit: I cannot sing,

      Nor heel the high lavolt, nor sweeten talk,

      Nor play at subtle games; fair virtues all,

      To which the Grecians are most prompt and pregnant:

      But I can tell that in each grace of these

      There lurks a still and dumb-discoursive devil

      That tempts most cunningly: but be not tempted.

      Cressida

      Do you think I will?

      Troilus

      No.

      But something may be done that we will not:

      And sometimes we are devils to ourselves,

      When we will tempt the frailty of our powers,

      Presuming on their changeful potency.

      Aeneas

      [Within] Nay, good my lord,—

      Troilus

      Come, kiss; and let us part.

      Paris

      [Within] Brother Troilus!

      Troilus

      Good brother, come you hither;

      And bring Aeneas and the Grecian with you.

      Cressida

      My lord, will you be true?

      Troilus

      Who, I? alas, it is my vice, my fault:

      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.

      Fear not my truth: the moral of my wit

      Is ‘plain and true;’ there’s all the reach of it.

      Enter Aeneas, Paris, Antenor, Deiphobus, and Diomedes

      Welcome, Sir Diomed! here is the lady

      Which for Antenor we deliver you:

      At the port, lord, I’ll give her to thy hand,

      And by the way possess thee what she is.

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

      If e’er thou stand at mercy of my sword,

      Name Cressida and thy life shall be as safe

      As Priam is in Ilion.

      Diomedes

      Fair Lady Cressid,

      So please you, save the thanks this prince expects:

      The lustre in your eye, heaven in your cheek,

      Pleads your fair usage; and to Diomed

      You shall be mistress, and command him wholly.

      Troilus

      Grecian, thou dost not use me courteously,

      To shame the zeal of my petition to thee

      In praising her: I tell thee, lord of Greece,

      She is as far high-soaring o’er thy praises

      As thou unworthy to be call’d her servant.

      I charge thee use her well, even for my charge;

      For, by the dreadful Pluto, if thou dost not,

      Though the great bulk Achilles be thy guard,

      I’ll cut thy throat.

      Diomedes

      O, be not moved, Prince Troilus:

      Let me be privileged by my place and message,

      To be a speaker free; when I am hence

      I’ll answer to my lust: and know you, lord,

      I’ll nothing do on charge: to her own worth

      She shall be prized; but that you say ‘be’t so,’

      I’ll speak it in my spirit and honour, ‘no.’

      Troilus

      Come, to the port. I’ll tell thee, Diomed,

      This brave shall oft make thee to hide thy head.

      Lady, give me your hand, and, as we walk,

      To our own selves bend we our needful talk.

      Exeunt Troilus, Cressida, and Diomedes

      Trumpet within

      Paris

      Hark! Hector’s trumpe
    t.

      Aeneas

      How have we spent this morning!

      The prince must think me tardy and remiss,

      That sore to ride before him to the field.

      Paris

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

      Deiphobus

      Let us make ready straight.

      Aeneas

      Yea, with a bridegroom’s fresh alacrity,

      Let us address to tend on Hector’s heels:

      The glory of our Troy doth this day lie

      On his fair worth and single chivalry.

      Exeunt

      SCENE V. THE GRECIAN CAMP. LISTS SET OUT.

      Enter Ajax, armed; Agamemnon, Achilles, Patroclus, Menelaus, Ulysses, Nestor, and others

      Agamemnon

      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

      And hale him hither.

      Ajax

      Thou, trumpet, there’s my purse.

      Now crack thy lungs, and split thy brazen pipe:

      Blow, villain, till thy sphered bias cheek

      Outswell the colic of puff’d Aquilon:

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

      Thou blow’st for Hector.

      Trumpet sounds

      Ulysses

      No trumpet answers.

      Achilles

      ’Tis but early days.

      Agamemnon

      Is not yond Diomed, with Calchas’ daughter?

      Ulysses

      ’Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait;

      He rises on the toe: that spirit of his

      In aspiration lifts him from the earth.

      Enter Diomedes, with Cressida

      Agamemnon

      Is this the Lady Cressid?

      Diomedes

      Even she.

      Agamemnon

      Most dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet lady.

      Nestor

      Our general doth salute you with a kiss.

      Ulysses

      Yet is the kindness but particular;

      ’Twere better she were kiss’d in general.

      Nestor

      And very courtly counsel: I’ll begin.

      So much for Nestor.

      Achilles

      I’ll take what winter from your lips, fair lady:

      Achilles bids you welcome.

      Menelaus

      I had good argument for kissing once.

      Patroclus

      But that’s no argument for kissing now;

      For this popp’d Paris in his hardiment,

      And parted thus you and your argument.

      Ulysses

      O deadly gall, and theme of all our scorns!

      For which we lose our heads to gild his horns.

      Patroclus

      The first was Menelaus’ kiss; this, mine:

      Patroclus kisses you.

      Menelaus

      O, this is trim!

      Patroclus

      Paris and I kiss evermore for him.

     


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