The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 544

ULYSSES. My lord!

TROILUS. I will be patient; outwardly I will.

CRESSIDA. You look upon that sleeve; behold it well.

He lov'd me-O false wench!-Give't me again.

DIOMEDES. Whose was't?

CRESSIDA. It is no matter, now I ha't again.

I will not meet with you to-morrow night.

I prithee, Diomed, visit me no more.

THERSITES. Now she sharpens. Well said, whetstone.

DIOMEDES. I shall have it.

CRESSIDA. What, this?

DIOMEDES. Ay, that.

CRESSIDA. O all you G.o.ds! O pretty, pretty pledge!

Thy master now lies thinking on his bed Of thee and me, and sighs, and takes my glove, And gives memorial dainty kisses to it, As I kiss thee. Nay, do not s.n.a.t.c.h it from me; He that takes that doth take my heart withal.

DIOMEDES. I had your heart before; this follows it.

TROILUS. I did swear patience.

CRESSIDA. You shall not have it, Diomed; faith, you shall not; I'll give you something else.

DIOMEDES. I will have this. Whose was it?

CRESSIDA. It is no matter.

DIOMEDES. Come, tell me whose it was.

CRESSIDA. 'Twas one's that lov'd me better than you will.

But, now you have it, take it.

DIOMEDES. Whose was it?

CRESSIDA. By all Diana's waiting women yond, And by herself, I will not tell you whose.

DIOMEDES. To-morrow will I wear it on my helm, And grieve his spirit that dares not challenge it.

TROILUS. Wert thou the devil and wor'st it on thy horn, It should be challeng'd.

CRESSIDA. Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis past; and yet it is not; I will not keep my word.

DIOMEDES. Why, then farewell; Thou never shalt mock Diomed again.

CRESSIDA. You shall not go. One cannot speak a word But it straight starts you.

DIOMEDES. I do not like this fooling.

THERSITES. Nor I, by Pluto; but that that likes not you Pleases me best.

DIOMEDES. What, shall I come? The hour- CRESSIDA. Ay, come-O Jove! Do come. I shall be plagu'd.

DIOMEDES. Farewell till then.

CRESSIDA. Good night. I prithee come. Exit DIOMEDES Troilus, farewell! One eye yet looks on thee; But with my heart the other eye doth see.

Ah, poor our s.e.x! this fault in us I find, The error of our eye directs our mind.

What error leads must err; O, then conclude, Minds sway'd by eyes are full of turpitude. Exit THERSITES. A proof of strength she could not publish more, Unless she said 'My mind is now turn'd wh.o.r.e.'

ULYSSES. All's done, my lord.

TROILUS. It is.

ULYSSES. Why stay we, then?

TROILUS. To make a recordation to my soul Of every syllable that here was spoke.

But if I tell how these two did coact, Shall I not lie in publis.h.i.+ng a truth?

Sith yet there is a credence in my heart, An esperance so obstinately strong, That doth invert th' attest of eyes and ears; As if those organs had deceptious functions Created only to calumniate.

Was Cressid here?

ULYSSES. I cannot conjure, Troyan.

TROILUS. She was not, sure.

ULYSSES. Most sure she was.

TROILUS. Why, my negation hath no taste of madness.

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

TROILUS. Let it not be believ'd for womanhood.

Think, we had mothers; do not give advantage To stubborn critics, apt, without a theme, For depravation, to square the general s.e.x By Cressid's rule. Rather think this not Cressid.

ULYSSES. What hath she done, Prince, that can soil our mothers?

TROILUS. Nothing at all, unless that this were she.

THERSITES. Will 'a swagger himself out on's own eyes?

TROILUS. This she? No; this is Diomed's Cressida.

If beauty have a soul, this is not she; If souls guide vows, if vows be sanctimonies, If sanctimony be the G.o.d's delight, If there be rule in unity itself, This was not she. O madness of discourse, That cause sets up with and against itself!

Bifold authority! where reason can revolt Without perdition, and loss a.s.sume 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 s.p.a.cious breadth of this division Admits no orifex for a point as subtle As Ariachne's broken woof to enter.

Instance, O instance! strong as Pluto's gates: Cressid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven.

Instance, O instance! strong as heaven itself: The bonds of heaven are slipp'd, dissolv'd, and loos'd; And with another knot, five-finger-tied, The fractions of her faith, orts of her love, The fragments, sc.r.a.ps, the bits, and greasy relics Of her o'er-eaten faith, are bound to Diomed.

ULYSSES. May worthy Troilus be half-attach'd With that which here his pa.s.sion doth express?

TROILUS. Ay, Greek; and that shall be divulged well In characters as red as Mars his heart Inflam'd with Venus. Never did young man fancy With so eternal and so fix'd a soul.

Hark, Greek: as much as I do Cressid love, So much by weight hate I her Diomed.

That sleeve is mine that he'll bear on his helm; Were it a casque compos'd by Vulcan's skill My sword should bite it. Not the dreadful spout Which s.h.i.+pmen do the hurricano call, Constring'd in ma.s.s by the almighty sun, Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptune's ear In his descent than shall my prompted sword Falling on Diomed.

THERSITES. He'll tickle it for his concupy.

TROILUS. O Cressid! O false Cressid! false, false, false!

Let all untruths stand by thy stained name, And they'll seem glorious.

ULYSSES. O, contain yourself; Your pa.s.sion draws ears. .h.i.ther.

Enter AENEAS

AENEAS. I have been seeking you this hour, my lord.

Hector, by this, is arming him in Troy; Ajax, your guard, stays to conduct you home.

TROILUS. Have with you, Prince. My courteous lord, adieu.

Fairwell, revolted fair!-and, Diomed, Stand fast and wear a castle on thy head.

ULYSSES. I'll bring you to the gates.

TROILUS. Accept distracted thanks.

Exeunt TROILUS, AENEAS. and ULYSSES

THERSITES. Would I could meet that rogue Diomed! I would croak like a raven; I would bode, I would bode. Patroclus will give me anything for the intelligence of this wh.o.r.e; the parrot will not do more for an almond than he for a commodious drab. Lechery, lechery! Still wars and lechery! Nothing else holds fas.h.i.+on. A burning devil take them! Exit

ACT V. SCENE 3.

Troy. Before PRIAM'S palace

Enter HECTOR and ANDROMACHE

ANDROMACHE. When was my lord so much ungently temper'd To stop his ears against admonishment?

Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to-day.

HECTOR. You train me to offend you; get you in.

By all the everlasting G.o.ds, I'll go.

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

HECTOR. No more, I say.

Enter Ca.s.sANDRA

Ca.s.sANDRA. Where is my brother Hector?

ANDROMACHE. Here, sister, arm'd, and b.l.o.o.d.y in intent.