The Complete Works of William Shakespeare - William Shakespeare (book suggestions .TXT) 📗

Our firebrand brother, Paris, burns us all.

Cry, Troyans, cry, A Helen and a woe!

Cry, cry. Troy burns, or else let Helen go. Exit HECTOR. Now, youthful Troilus, do not these high strains Of divination in our sister work

Some touches of remorse, or is your blood So madly hot that no discourse of reason, Nor fear of bad success in a bad cause, Can qualify the same?

TROILUS. Why, brother Hector,

We may not think the justness of each act Such and no other than event doth form it; Nor once deject the courage of our minds Because Cassandra’s mad. Her brainsick raptures Cannot distaste the goodness of a quarrel Which hath our several honours all engag’d To make it gracious. For my private part, I am no more touch’d than all Priam’s sons; And Jove forbid there should be done amongst us Such things as might offend the weakest spleen To fight for and maintain.

PARIS. Else might the world convince of levity As well my undertakings as your counsels; But I attest the gods, your full consent Gave wings to my propension, and cut of All fears attending on so dire a project.

For what, alas, can these my single arms?

What propugnation is in one man’s valour To stand the push and enmity of those This quarrel would excite? Yet, I protest, Were I alone to pass the difficulties, And had as ample power as I have will, Paris should ne’er retract what he hath done Nor faint in the pursuit.

PRIAM. Paris, you speak

Like one besotted on your sweet delights.

You have the honey still, but these the gall; So to be valiant is no praise at all.

PARIS. Sir, I propose not merely to myself The pleasures such a beauty brings with it; But I would have the soil of her fair rape Wip’d off in honourable keeping her.

What treason were it to the ransack’d queen, Disgrace to your great worths, and shame to me, Now to deliver her possession up

On terms of base compulsion! Can it be That so degenerate a strain as this

Should once set footing in your generous bosoms?

There’s not the meanest spirit on our party Without a heart to dare or sword to draw When Helen is defended; nor none so noble Whose life were ill bestow’d or death unfam’d Where Helen is the subject. Then, I say, Well may we fight for her whom we know well The world’s large spaces cannot parallel.

HECTOR. Paris and Troilus, you have both said well; And on the cause and question now in hand Have gloz’d, but superficially; not much Unlike young men, whom Aristode thought Unfit to hear moral philosophy.

The reasons you allege do more conduce To the hot passion of distemp’red blood Than to make up a free determination

‘Twixt right and wrong; for pleasure and revenge Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice Of any true decision. Nature craves

All dues be rend’red to their owners. Now, What nearer debt in all humanity

Than wife is to the husband? If this law Of nature be corrupted through affection; And that great minds, of partial indulgence To their benumbed wills, resist the same; There is a law in each well-order’d nation To curb those raging appetites that are Most disobedient and refractory.

If Helen, then, be wife to Sparta’s king-As it is known she is-these moral laws Of nature and of nations speak aloud

To have her back return’d. Thus to persist In doing wrong extenuates not wrong,

But makes it much more heavy. Hector’s opinion Is this, in way of truth. Yet, ne’er the less, My spritely brethren, I propend to you In resolution to keep Helen still;

For ‘tis a cause that hath no mean dependence Upon our joint and several dignities.

TROILUS. Why, there you touch’d the life of our design.

Were it not glory that we more affected Than the performance of our heaving spleens, I would not wish a drop of Troyan blood Spent more in her defence. But, worthy Hector, She is a theme of honour and renown,

A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds, Whose present courage may beat down our foes, And fame in time to come canonize us; For I presume brave Hector would not lose So rich advantage of a promis’d glory As smiles upon the forehead of this action For the wide world’s revenue.

HECTOR. I am yours,

You valiant offspring of great Priamus.

I have a roisting challenge sent amongst The dull and factious nobles of the Greeks Will strike amazement to their drowsy spirits.

I was advertis’d their great general slept, Whilst emulation in the army crept.

This, I presume, will wake him. Exeunt

ACT II. SCENE 3.

The Grecian camp. Before the tent of ACHILLES

 

Enter THERSITES, solus

 

THERSITES. How now, Thersites! What, lost in the labyrinth of thy fury? Shall the elephant Ajax carry it thus? He beats me, and I rail at him. O worthy satisfaction! Would it were otherwise: that I could beat him, whilst he rail’d at me! ‘Sfoot, I’ll learn to conjure and raise devils, but I’ll see some issue of my spiteful execrations. Then there’s Achilles, a rare engineer! If Troy be not taken till these two undermine it, the walls will stand till they fall of themselves. O thou great thunder-darter of Olympus, forget that thou art Jove, the king of gods, and, Mercury, lose all the serpentine craft of thy caduceus, if ye take not that little little less-than-little wit from them that they have!

which short-arm’d ignorance itself knows is so abundant scarce, it will not in circumvention deliver a fly from a spider without drawing their massy irons and cutting the web. After this, the vengeance on the whole camp! or, rather, the Neapolitan bone-ache! for that, methinks, is the curse depending on those that war for a placket. I have said my prayers; and devil Envy say ‘Amen.’ What ho! my Lord Achilles!

 

Enter PATROCLUS

 

PATROCLUS. Who’s there? Thersites! Good Thersites, come in and rail.

THERSITES. If I could ‘a rememb’red a gilt counterfeit, thou wouldst not have slipp’d out of my contemplation; but it is no matter; thyself upon thyself! The common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in great revenue! Heaven bless thee from a tutor, and discipline come not near thee! Let thy blood be thy direction till thy death. Then if she that lays thee out says thou art a fair corse, I’ll be sworn and sworn upon’t she never shrouded any but lazars. Amen. Where’s Achilles?

PATROCLUS. What, art thou devout? Wast thou in prayer?

THERSITES. Ay, the heavens hear me!

PATROCLUS. Amen.

 

Enter ACHILLES

 

ACHILLES. Who’s there?

PATROCLUS. Thersites, my lord.

ACHILLES. Where, where? O, where? Art thou come? Why, my cheese, my digestion, why hast thou not served thyself in to my table so many meals? Come, what’s Agamemnon?

THERSITES. Thy commander, Achilles. Then tell me, Patroclus, what’s Achilles?

PATROCLUS. Thy lord, Thersites. Then tell me, I pray thee, what’s Thersites?

THERSITES. Thy knower, Patroclus. Then tell me, Patroclus, what art thou?

PATROCLUS. Thou must tell that knowest.

ACHILLES. O, tell, tell,

THERSITES. I’ll decline the whole question. Agamemnon commands Achilles; Achilles is my lord; I am Patroclus’ knower; and Patroclus is a fool.

PATROCLUS. You rascal!

THERSITES. Peace, fool! I have not done.

ACHILLES. He is a privileg’d man. Proceed, Thersites.

THERSITES. Agamemnon is a fool; Achilles is a fool; Thersites is a fool; and, as aforesaid, Patroclus is a fool.

ACHILLES. Derive this; come.

THERSITES. Agamemnon is a fool to offer to command Achilles; Achilles is a fool to be commanded of Agamemnon; Thersites is a fool to serve such a fool; and this Patroclus is a fool positive.

PATROCLUS. Why am I a fool?

THERSITES. Make that demand of the Creator. It suffices me thou art. Look you, who comes here?

ACHILLES. Come, Patroclus, I’ll speak with nobody. Come in with me, Thersites. Exit THERSITES. Here is such patchery, such juggling, and such knavery.

All the argument is a whore and a cuckold-a good quarrel to draw emulous factions and bleed to death upon. Now the dry serpigo on the subject, and war and lechery confound all! Exit Enter AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, NESTOR, DIOMEDES, AJAX, and CALCHAS

 

AGAMEMNON. Where is Achilles?

PATROCLUS. Within his tent; but ill-dispos’d, my lord.

AGAMEMNON. Let it be known to him that we are here.

He shent our messengers; and we lay by Our appertainings, visiting of him.

Let him be told so; lest, perchance, he think We dare not move the question of our place Or know not what we are.

PATROCLUS. I shall say so to him. Exit ULYSSES. We saw him at the opening of his tent.

He is not sick.

AJAX. Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart. You may call it melancholy, if you will favour the man; but, by my head, ‘tis pride. But why, why? Let him show us a cause. A word, my lord.

[Takes AGAMEMNON aside]

NESTOR. What moves Ajax thus to bay at him?

ULYSSES. Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him.

NESTOR.Who, Thersites?

ULYSSES. He.

NESTOR. Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost his argument ULYSSES. No; you see he is his argument that has his argument-Achilles.

NESTOR. All the better; their fraction is more our wish than their faction. But it was a strong composure a fool could disunite!

ULYSSES. The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie.

 

Re-enter PATROCLUS

 

Here comes Patroclus.

NESTOR. No Achilles with him.

ULYSSES. The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy; his legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure.

PATROCLUS. Achilles bids me say he is much sorry If any thing more than your sport and pleasure Did move your greatness and this noble state To call upon him; he hopes it is no other But for your health and your digestion sake, An after-dinner’s breath.

AGAMEMNON. Hear you, Patroclus.

We are too well acquainted with these answers; But his evasion, wing’d thus swift with scorn, Cannot outfly our apprehensions.

Much attribute he hath, and much the reason Why we ascribe it to him. Yet all his virtues, Not virtuously on his own part beheld, Do in our eyes begin to lose their gloss; Yea, like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish, Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell him We come to speak with him; and you shall not sin If you do say we think him over-proud And under-honest, in self-assumption greater Than in the note of judgment; and worthier than himself Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on, Disguise the holy strength of their command, And underwrite in an observing kind

His humorous predominance; yea, watch His pettish lunes, his ebbs, his flows, as if The passage and whole carriage of this action Rode on his tide. Go tell him this, and ad That if he overhold his price so much We’ll none of him, but let him, like an engine Not portable, lie under this report:

Bring action hither; this cannot go to war.

A stirring dwarf we do allowance give Before a sleeping giant. Tell him so.

PATROCLUS. I shall, and bring his answer presently. Exit AGAMEMNON. In second voice we’ll not be satisfied; We come to speak with him. Ulysses, enter you.

Exit ULYSSES

AJAX. What is he more than another?

AGAMEMNON. No more than what he thinks he is.

AJAX. Is he so much? Do you not think he thinks himself a better man than I am?

AGAMEMNON. No question.

AJAX. Will you subscribe his thought and say he is?

AGAMEMNON. No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as valiant, as wise, no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether more tractable.

AJAX. Why should a man be proud? How doth pride grow? I know not what pride is.

AGAMEMNON.