The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 537

For this time will I take my leave, my lord.

TROILUS. Your leave, sweet Cressid!

PANDARUS. Leave! An you take leave till to-morrow morning- CRESSIDA. Pray you, content you.

TROILUS. What offends you, lady?

CRESSIDA. Sir, mine own company.

TROILUS. You cannot shun yourself.

CRESSIDA. Let me go and try.

I have a kind of self resides with you; But an unkind self, that itself will leave To be another's fool. I would be gone.

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

TROILUS. Well know they what they speak that speak so wisely.

CRESSIDA. 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 man's might; that dwells with G.o.ds above.

TROILUS. O that I thought it could be in a woman- As, if it can, I will presume in you- To feed for aye her lamp and flames of love; To keep her constancy in plight and youth, Outliving beauty's outward, with a mind That doth renew swifter than blood decays!

Or that persuasion could but thus convince me That my integrity and truth to you Might be affronted with the match and weight Of such a winnowed purity in love.

How were I then uplifted! but, alas, I am as true as truth's simplicity, And simpler than the infancy of truth.

CRESSIDA. In that I'll war with you.

TROILUS. O virtuous fight, When right with right wars who shall be most right!

True swains in love shall in the world to come Approve their truth by Troilus, when their rhymes, Full of protest, of oath, and big compare, Want similes, truth tir'd with iteration- As true as steel, as plantage to the moon, As sun to day, as turtle to her mate, As iron to adamant, as earth to th' centre- Yet, after all comparisons of truth, As truth's authentic author to be cited, 'As true as Troilus' shall crown up the verse And sanctify the numbers.

CRESSIDA. Prophet may you be!

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 blind oblivion swallow'd cities up, And mighty states characterless are grated To dusty nothing-yet let memory From false to false, among false maids in love, Upbraid my falsehood when th' have said 'As false As air, as water, wind, or sandy earth, As fox to lamb, or wolf to heifer's calf, Pard to the hind, or stepdame to her son'- Yea, let them say, to stick the heart of falsehood, 'As false as Cressid.'

PANDARUS. Go to, a bargain made; seal it, seal it; I'll be the witness. Here I hold your hand; here my cousin's. If ever you prove false one to another, since I have taken such pains to bring you together, let all pitiful goers- between be call'd to the world's end after my name-call them all Pandars; let all constant men be Troiluses, all false women Cressids, and all brokers between Pandars. Say 'Amen.'

TROILUS. Amen.

CRESSIDA. Amen.

PANDARUS. Amen. Whereupon I will show you a chamber and 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, pander, to provide this gear! Exeunt

ACT III. SCENE 3.

The Greek camp

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

CALCHAS. Now, Princes, for the service I have done, Th' 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 come, I have abandon'd Troy, left my possession, Incurr'd a traitor's name, expos'd myself From certain and possess'd conveniences To doubtful fortunes, sequest'ring from me all That time, acquaintance, custom, and condition, Made tame and most familiar to my nature; And here, to do you service, am become As new into the world, strange, unacquainted- I do beseech you, as in way of taste, To give me now a little benefit Out of those many regist'red in promise, Which you say live to come in my behalf.

AGAMEMNON. What wouldst thou of us, Troyan? Make demand.

CALCHAS. You have a Troyan prisoner call'd Antenor, Yesterday took; Troy holds him very dear.

Oft have you-often have you thanks therefore- Desir'd my Cressid in right great exchange, Whom Troy hath still denied; but this Antenor, I know, is such a wrest in their affairs That their negotiations all must slack Wanting his manage; and they will almost Give us a prince of blood, a son of Priam, In change of him. Let him be sent, great Princes, And he shall buy my daughter; and her presence Shall quite strike off all service I have done In most accepted pain.

AGAMEMNON. Let Diomedes bear him, And bring us Cressid hither. Calchas shall have What he requests of us. Good Diomed, Furnish you fairly for this interchange; Withal, bring word if Hector will to-morrow Be answer'd in his challenge. Ajax is ready.

DIOMEDES. This shall I undertake; and 'tis a burden Which I am proud to bear.

Exeunt DIOMEDES and CALCHAS

ACHILLES and PATROCLUS stand in their tent

ULYSSES. Achilles stands i' th' entrance of his tent.

Please it our general pa.s.s strangely by him, As if he were forgot; and, Princes all, Lay negligent and loose regard upon him.

I will come last. 'Tis like he'll question me Why such unplausive eyes are bent, why turn'd on him?

If so, I have derision med'cinable To use between your strangeness and his pride, Which his own will shall have desire to drink.

It may do good. Pride hath no other gla.s.s To show itself but pride; for supple knees Feed arrogance and are the proud man's fees.

AGAMEMNON. We'll execute your purpose, and put on A form of strangeness as we pa.s.s along.

So do each lord; and either greet him not, Or else disdainfully, which shall shake him more Than if not look'd on. I will lead the way.

ACHILLES. What comes the general to speak with me?

You know my mind. I'll fight no more 'gainst Troy.

AGAMEMNON. What says Achilles? Would he aught with us?

NESTOR. Would you, my lord, aught with the general?

ACHILLES. No.

NESTOR. Nothing, my lord.

AGAMEMNON. The better.

Exeunt AGAMEMNON and NESTOR ACHILLES. Good day, good day.

MENELAUS. How do you? How do you? Exit ACHILLES. What, does the cuckold scorn me?

AJAX. How now, Patroclus?

ACHILLES. Good morrow, Ajax.

AJAX. Ha?

ACHILLES. Good morrow.

AJAX. Ay, and good next day too. Exit ACHILLES. What mean these fellows? Know they not Achilles?

PATROCLUS. They pa.s.s by strangely. They were us'd to bend, To send their smiles before them to Achilles, To come as humbly as they us'd to creep To holy altars.

ACHILLES. What, am I poor of late?

'Tis certain, greatness, once fall'n out with fortune, Must fall out with men too. What the declin'd is, He shall as soon read in the eyes of others As feel in his own fall; for men, like b.u.t.terflies, Show not their mealy wings but to the summer; And not a man for being simply man Hath any honour, but honour for those honours That are without him, as place, riches, and favour, Prizes of accident, as oft as merit; Which when they fall, as being slippery standers, The love that lean'd on them as slippery too, Doth one pluck down another, and together Die in the fall. But 'tis not so with me: Fortune and I are friends; I do enjoy At ample point all that I did possess Save these men's looks; who do, methinks, find out Something not worth in me such rich beholding As they have often given. Here is Ulysses.

I'll interrupt his reading.

How now, Ulysses!

ULYSSES. Now, great Thetis' son!

ACHILLES. What are you reading?

ULYSSES. A strange fellow here Writes me that man-how dearly ever parted, How much in having, or without or in- Cannot make boast to have that which he hath, Nor feels not what he owes, but by reflection; As when his virtues s.h.i.+ning upon others Heat them, and they retort that heat again To the first giver.

ACHILLES. This is not strange, Ulysses.

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 other's form; For speculation turns not to itself Till it hath travell'd, and is mirror'd there Where it may see itself. This is not strange at all.

ULYSSES. I do not strain at the position- It is familiar-but at the author's drift; Who, in his circ.u.mstance, expressly proves That no man is the lord of anything, 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 formed in th' applause Where th' are extended; who, like an arch, reverb'rate The voice again; or, like a gate of steel Fronting the sun, receives and renders back His figure and his heat. I was much rapt in this; And apprehended here immediately Th' unknown Ajax. Heavens, what a man is there!

A very horse that has he knows not what!

Nature, what things there are Most abject in regard and dear in use!

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 renown'd. O heavens, what some men do, While some men leave to do!

How some men creep in skittish Fortune's-hall, Whiles others play the idiots in her eyes!

How one man eats into another's pride, 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 Hector's breast, And great Troy shrinking.

ACHILLES. I do believe it; for they pa.s.s'd by me As misers do by beggars-neither gave to me Good word nor look. What, are my deeds forgot?

ULYSSES. Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-siz'd monster of ingrat.i.tudes.

Those sc.r.a.ps are good deeds past, which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done. Perseverance, dear my lord, Keeps honour bright. To have done is to hang Quite out of fas.h.i.+on, like a rusty mail In monumental mock'ry. Take the instant way; For honour travels in a strait so narrow - Where one but goes abreast. Keep then the path, For emulation hath a thousand sons That one by one pursue; if you give way, Or hedge aside from the direct forthright, Like to an ent'red tide they all rush by And leave you hindmost; Or, like a gallant horse fall'n in first rank, Lie there for pavement to the abject rear, O'er-run and trampled on. Then what they do in present, Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours; For Time is like a fas.h.i.+onable host, That slightly shakes his parting guest by th' hand; And with his arms out-stretch'd, as he would fly, Grasps in the corner. The welcome ever smiles, And farewell goes out sighing. O, let not virtue seek Remuneration for the thing it was; For beauty, wit, High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, Love, friends.h.i.+p, charity, are subjects all To envious and calumniating Time.

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, And give to dust that is a little gilt More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.

The present eye praises the present object.

Then marvel not, thou great and complete man, That all the Greeks begin to wors.h.i.+p Ajax, Since things in motion sooner catch the eye Than what stirs not. The cry went once on thee, And still it might, and yet it may again, If thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive And case thy reputation in thy tent, Whose glorious deeds but in these fields of late Made emulous missions 'mongst the G.o.ds themselves, And drave great Mars to faction.

ACHILLES. Of this my privacy I have strong reasons.

ULYSSES. But 'gainst your privacy The reasons are more potent and heroical.

'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love With one of Priam's daughters.

ACHILLES. Ha! known!

ULYSSES. Is that a wonder?

The providence that's in a watchful state Knows almost every grain of Plutus' gold; Finds bottom in th' uncomprehensive deeps; Keeps place with thought, and almost, like the G.o.ds, Do thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles.

There is a mystery-with whom relation Durst never meddle-in the soul of state, Which hath an operation more divine Than breath or pen can give expressure to.

All the commerce that you have had with Troy As perfectly is ours as yours, my lord; And better would it fit Achilles much To throw down Hector than Polyxena.

But it must grieve young Pyrrhus now at home, When fame shall in our island sound her trump, And all the Greekish girls shall tripping sing 'Great Hector's sister did Achilles win; But our great Ajax bravely beat down him.'

Farewell, my lord. I as your lover speak.

The fool slides o'er the ice that you should break. Exit PATROCLUS. To this effect, Achilles, have I mov'd you.

A woman impudent and mannish grown Is not more loath'd than an effeminate man In time of action. I stand condemn'd for this; They think my little stomach to the war 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 lion's mane, Be shook to airy air.