My major vow lies here; this I'll obey.- 2 Away, Patroclus. [Exeunt ACHILLES and PATROclus. Ther. 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, I'll be a curer of madmen. Here's Agamemnon,—an honest fellow enough, and one that loves quails; but he has not so much brain as ear-wax. 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 brother's 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! spirits and fires! 5 Enter HECTOR, TROILUS, AJAX, AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, NESTOR, MENELAUS, and DIOMED, with lights. Agam. We go wrong, we go wrong. Ajax. No, yonder 'tis ; There, where we see the lights. Here comes himself to guide you. 1 By quails are meant women. "Caille coeffee" is a sobriquet for a harlot. 2 He calls Menelaus the transformation of Jupiter, that is, the bull, on account of his horns. 3 i. e. farced or stuffed. 4 A polecat. 5 This Thersites speaks upon the first sight of the distant lights. Enter ACHILLES. Achil. Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, princes all. Hect. Thanks, and good night, to the Greeks' general. Hect. Good night, sweet lord Menelaus. Ther. Sweet draught.' Sweet, quoth 'a! sweet sink, sweet sewer. Achil. Good night. And welcome both to those that go, or tarry. Agam. Good night. [Exeunt AGAMEMNON and MENELaus. Achil. Old Nestor tarries; and you too, Diomed, Keep Hector company an hour or two. Dio. I cannot, lord; I have important business, Ulyss. Follow his torch; he goes [Aside to TROIlus. Tro. Sweet sir, you honor me. Hect. And so good night. following. [Exit DIOMED; ULYSSES and TROILUS Achil. Come, come, enter my tent. [Exeunt ACHILLES, HECTOR, AJAX and NESTOR. Ther. That same Diomed's 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;2 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; 1 Draught is the old word for forica. 2 If a hound gives mouth, and is not upon the scent of the game, he is called a babbler or brabbler. they say, he keeps a Trojan drab, and uses the traitor Calchas' tent: I'll after.-Nothing but lechery! all incontinent varlets! [Exit. SCENE II. The same. Before Calchas' Tent. Enter DIOMEdes. Dio. What, are you up here, ho? speak. Dio. Diomed.-Calchas, I think.-Where's your daughter? Cal. [Within.] She comes to you. Enter TROILUS and ULYSSES, at a distance; after them, THERSITES. Ulyss. Stand where the torch may not discover us. Enter CRESSIDA. Tro. Cressid comes forth to him! Dio. How now, my charge? [Whispers. Cres. Now, my sweet guardian!-Hark! a word with you. Tro. Yea, so familiar! Ulyss. She will sing any man at first sight. Ther. And any man may sing her, if he can take 1 her cliff! She's noted. Dio. Will you remember? Cres. Dio. Remember? yes. Nay, but do, then, And let your mind be coupled with your words. Ulyss. List! Cres. Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly. Ther. Roguery! I'll tell you what. Dio. Pho! pho! come, tell a pin. You are forsworn.— Cres. In faith, I cannot. What would you have me do? Ther. A juggling trick, to be-secretly open. Dio. What did you swear you would bestow on me? Cres. I pr'ythee, do not hold me to mine oath; Bid me do any thing but that, sweet Greek. Dio. Good night. Tro. Ulyss. Cres. Hold, patience! How now, Trojan? Dio. No, no, good night. I'll be your fool no more. Tro. Thy better must. Cres. Hark! one word in your ear. Tro. O plague and madness! Ulyss. You are moved, prince; let us depart, I pray you, Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself Now, good my lord, go off; You flow to great destruction;1 come, my lord. Ulyss. You have not patience; come. Tro. I pray you, stay; by hell, and all hell's torments, I will not speak a word. Dio. Cres. Nay, but you part in anger. Tro. O withered truth! And so, good night. Doth that grieve thee? 1 i. e. your impetuosity exposes you to imminent peril. The folio reads distraction. Dio. Pho, pho! adieu; you palter.1 Cres. In faith, I do not; come hither once again. Ulyss. You shake, my lord, at something; will you go? You will break out. Tro. Ulyss. She strokes his cheek! Come, come. Tro. 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. 2 Ther. How the devil luxury, with his fat rump, and potatoe finger, tickles these together! Fry, lechery, fry! Dio. But will you then? Cres. In faith, I will, la; never trust me else. Ulyss. You have sworn patience. Tro. [Exit. Fear me not, my lord; I will not be myself, nor have cognition Re-enter CREssida. Ther. Now the pledge; now, now, now! Tro. O beauty! where's thy faith? My lord! Tro. I will be patient; outwardly I will. Cres. You look upon that sleeve; behold it well.— He loved me-O false wench!-Give't me again. Dio. Whose was't? Cres. No matter, now I have't again. I will not meet with you to-morrow night; I pr'ythee, Diomed, visit me no more. 1 To palter is to equivocate, to shuffle. 2 Luxury, or lasciviousness, is said to have a potatoe-finger, because that root was thought "to strengthen the bodie, and procure bodily lust." 3 This sleeve was given by Troilus to Cressida at their parting. It was probably such a sleeve as was formerly worn at tournaments. |