The Same. Before CALCHAS' Tent. |
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Enter DIOMEDES. |
Dio. What, are you up here, ho! speak. |
Cal. [Within.] Who calls? |
Dio. Diomed. Calchas, I think. Where's your daughter? |
Cal. [Within.] She comes to you. |
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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! |
Cres. Now, my sweet guardian! Hark! a word with you. [Whispers. |
Tro. Yea, so familiar! |
Ulyss. She will sing any man at first sight. |
Ther. And any man may sing her, if he can take her cliff; she's noted. |
Dio. Will you remember? |
Cres. Remember! yes. |
Dio. Nay, but do, then; |
And let your mind be coupled with your words. |
Tro. What should she remember? |
Ulyss. List! |
Cres. Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly. |
Ther. Roguery! |
Dio. Nay, then,— |
Cres. I'll tell you what,— |
Dio. Foh, foh! 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 prithee, do not hold me to mine oath; |
Bid me do anything but that, sweet Greek. |
Dio. Good-night. |
Tro. Hold, patience! |
Ulyss. How now, Trojan? |
Cres. Diomed,— |
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 mov'd, prince; let us depart, I pray you, |
Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself |
To wrathful terms. This place is dangerous; |
The time right deadly. I beseech you, go. |
Tro. Behold, I pray you! |
Ulyss. Nay, good my lord, go off: |
You flow to great distraction; come, my lord. |
Tro. I pray thee, stay. |
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. And so, good-night. |
Cres. Nay, but you part in anger. |
Tro. Doth that grieve thee? |
O wither'd truth! |
Ulyss. Why, how now, lord! |
Tro. By Jove, |
I will be patient. |
Cres. Guardian!—why, Greek! |
Dio. Foh, foh! adieu; you palter. |
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. She strokes his cheek! |
Ulyss. 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. |
Ther. How the devil Luxury, with his fat rump and potato finger, tickles these together! Fry, lechery, fry! |
Dio. But will you, then? |
Cres. In faith, I will, la; never trust me else. |
Dio. Give me some token for the surety of it. |
Cres. I'll fetch you one. [Exit. |
Ulyss. You have sworn patience. |
Tro. Fear me not, sweet lord; |
I will not be myself, nor have cognition |
Of what I feel: I am all patience. |
|
Re-enter CRESSIDA. |
Ther. Now the pledge! now, now, now! |
Cres. Here, Diomed, keep this sleeve. |
Tro. O beauty! where is thy faith? |
Ulyss. My lord,— |
Tro. I will be patient; outwardly I will. |
Cres. You look upon that sleeve; behold it well. |
He lov'd me—O false wench!—Give't to me again. |
Dio. Whose was't? |
Cres. It is no matter, now I have't again. |
I will not meet with you to-morrow night. |
I prithee, Diomed, visit me no more. |
Ther. Now she sharpens: well said, whetstone! |
Dio. I shall have it. |
Cres. What, this? |
Dio. Ay, that. |
Cres. O! all you gods. O pretty, pretty pledge! |
Thy master now lies thinking in 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 snatch it from me; |
He that takes that doth take my heart withal. |
Dio. I had your heart before; this follows it. |
Tro. I did swear patience. |
Cres. You shall not have it, Diomed; faith you shall not; |
I'll give you something else. |
Dio. I will have this. Whose was it? |
Cres. 'Tis no matter. |
Dio. Come, tell me whose it was. |
Cres. 'Twas one's that loved me better than you will. |
But, now you have it, take it. |
Dio. Whose was it? |
Cres. By all Diana's waiting-women yond, |
And by herself, I will not tell you whose. |
Dio. To-morrow will I wear it on my helm, |
And grieve his spirit that dares not challenge it. |
Tro. Wert thou the devil, and wor'st it on thy horn, |
It should be challeng'd. |
Cres. Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis past: and yet it is not: |
I will not keep my word. |
Dio. Why then, farewell; |
Thou never shalt mock Diomed again. |
Cres. You shall not go: one cannot speak a word, |
But it straight starts you. |
Dio. I do not like this fooling. |
Ther. Nor I, by Pluto: but that that likes not me |
Pleases me best. |
Dio. What, shall I come? the hour? |
Cres. Ay, come:—O Jove!— |
Do come:—I shall be plagu'd. |
Dio. Farewell till then. |
Cres. 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 sex; 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 trupitude. [Exit. |
Ther. A proof of strength she could not publish more, |
Unless she said, 'My mind is now turn'd whore.' |
Ulyss. All's done, my lord. |
Tro. It is. |
Ulyss. Why stay we, then? |
Tro. To make a recordation to my soul |
Of every syllable that here was spoke. |
But if I tell how these two did co-act, |
Shall I not lie in publishing a truth? |
Sith yet there is a credence in my heart, |
An esperance so obstinately strong, |
That doth invert the attest of eyes and ears, |
As if those organs had deceptious functions, |
Created only to calumniate. |
Was Cressid here? |
Ulyss. I cannot conjure, Trojan. |
Tro. She was not, sure. |
Ulyss. Most sure she was. |
Tro. Why, my negation hath no taste of madness. |
Ulyss. Nor mine, my lord: Cressid was here but now. |
Tro. 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 sex |
By Cressid's rule: rather think this not Cressid. |
Ulyss. What hath she done, prince, that can soil our mothers? |
Tro. Nothing at all, unless that this were she. |
Ther. Will he swagger himself out on's own eyes? |
Tro. This she? no, this is Diomed's Cressida. |
If beauty have a soul. this is not she; |
If souls guide vows, if vows be sanctimony, |
If sanctimony be the gods' delight, |
If there be rule in unity itself, |
This is not she. O madness of discourse, |
That cause sets up with and against itself; |
Bi-fold authority! where reason can revolt |
Without perdition, and loss assume 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 spacious breadth of this division |
Admits no orifice 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, scraps, the bits, and greasy reliques |
Of her o'er-eaten faith, are bound to Diomed. |
Ulyss. May worthy Troilus be half attach'd |
With that which here his passion doth express? |
Tro. 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 shipmen do the hurricano call, |
Constring'd in mass by the almighty sun, |
Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptune's ear |
In his descent than shall my prompted sword |
Falling on Diomed. |
Ther. He'll tickle it for his concupy. |
Tro. O Cressid! O false Cressid! false, false, false! |
Let all untruths stand by thy stained name, |
And they'll seem glorious. |
Ulyss. O! contain yourself; |
Your passion draws ears hither. |
|
Enter ĆNEAS. |
Ćne. 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. |
Tro. Have with you, prince. My courteous lord, adieu. |
Farewell, revolted fair! and Diomed, |
Stand fast, and wear a castle on thy head! |
Ulyss. I'll bring you to the gates. |
Tro. Accept distracted thanks. [Exeunt TROILUS, ĆNEAS, and ULYSSES. |
Ther. Would I could meet that rogue Diomed! I would croak like a raven; I would bode, I would bode. Patroclus would give me any thing for the intelligence of this whore: the parrot will not do more for an almond than he for a commodious drab. Lechery, lechery; still, wars and lechery: nothing else holds fashion. A burning devil take them! [Exit. |
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