TROILUS & CRESSIDA. William Shakespeare
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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 relics
Of her o’er-eaten faith, are bound to Diomed.
ULYSSES.
May worthy Troilus be half-attach’d
With that which here his passion 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 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.
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 passion draws ears hither.
[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 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.]
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 gods, I’ll go.
ANDROMACHE.
My dreams will, sure, prove ominous to the day.
HECTOR.
No more, I say.
[Enter CASSANDRA.]
CASSANDRA.
Where is my brother Hector?
ANDROMACHE.
Here, sister, arm’d, and bloody in intent.
Consort with me in loud and dear petition,
Pursue we him on knees; for I have dreamt
Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night
Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter.
CASSANDRA.
O, ‘tis true!
HECTOR.
Ho! bid my trumpet sound.
CASSANDRA.
No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet brother!
HECTOR.
Be gone, I say. The gods have heard me swear.
CASSANDRA.
The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows;
They are polluted off’rings, more abhorr’d
Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.
ANDROMACHE.
O, be persuaded! Do not count it holy
To hurt by being just. It is as lawful,
For we would give much, to use violent thefts
And rob in the behalf of charity.
CASSANDRA.
It is the purpose that makes strong the vow;
But vows to every purpose must not hold.
Unarm, sweet Hector.
HECTOR.
Hold you still, I say.
Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate.
Life every man holds dear; but the dear man
Holds honour far more precious dear than life.
[Enter TROILUS.]
How now, young man! Mean’st thou to fight to-day?
ANDROMACHE.
Cassandra, call my father to persuade.
[Exit CASSANDRA.]
HECTOR.
No, faith, young Troilus; doff thy harness, youth;
I am to-day i’ the vein of chivalry.
Let grow thy sinews till their knots be strong,
And tempt not yet the brushes of the war.
Unarm thee, go; and doubt thou not, brave boy,
I’ll stand to-day for thee and me and Troy.
TROILUS.
Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you
Which better fits a lion than a man.
HECTOR.
What vice is that, good Troilus?
Chide me for it.
TROILUS.
When many times the captive Grecian falls,