NESTOR Yet he loves himself: is’t not strange?
Aside
Re-enter ULYSSES
ULYSSES Achilles will not to the field to-morrow.
AGAMEMNON What’s his excuse?
ULYSSES He doth rely on none,
But carries on the stream of his dispose
Without observance or respect of any,
In will peculiar and in self-admission.
AGAMEMNON Why will he not upon our fair request
Untent his person and share the air with us?
ULYSSES Things small as nothing, for request’s sake only,
He makes important: possess’d he is with greatness,
And speaks not to himself but with a pride
That quarrels at self-breath: imagined worth
Holds in his blood such swoln and hot discourse
That ‘twixt his mental and his active parts
Kingdom’d Achilles in commotion rages
And batters down himself: what should I say?
He is so plaguy proud that the death-tokens of it
Cry ‘No recovery.’
AGAMEMNON Let Ajax go to him.
Dear lord, go you and greet him in his tent:
‘Tis said he holds you well, and will be led
At your request a little from himself.
ULYSSES O Agamemnon, let it not be so!
We’ll consecrate the steps that Ajax makes
When they go from Achilles: shall the proud lord
That bastes his arrogance with his own seam
And never suffers matter of the world
Enter his thoughts, save such as do revolve
And ruminate himself, shall he be worshipp’d
Of that we hold an idol more than he?
No, this thrice worthy and right valiant lord
Must not so stale his palm, nobly acquired;
Nor, by my will, assubjugate his merit,
As amply titled as Achilles is,
By going to Achilles:
That were to enlard his fat already pride
And add more coals to Cancer when he burns
With entertaining great Hyperion.
This lord go to him! Jupiter forbid,
And say in thunder ‘Achilles go to him.’
NESTOR [Aside to DIOMEDES]
O, this is well; he rubs the
vein of him.
DIOMEDES [Aside to NESTOR]
And how his silence drinks up
this applause!
AJAX If I go to him, with my armed fist I’ll pash him o’er the face.
AGAMEMNON O, no, you shall not go.
AJAX An a’ be proud with me, I’ll pheeze his pride:
Let me go to him.
ULYSSES Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.
AJAX A paltry, insolent fellow!
NESTOR How he describes himself!
AJAX Can he not be sociable?
ULYSSES The raven chides blackness.
AJAX I’ll let his humours blood.
AGAMEMNON He will be the physician that should be the patient.
AJAX An all men were o’ my mind,–
ULYSSES Wit would be out of fashion.
AJAX A’ should not bear it so, a’ should eat swords first:
shall pride carry it?
NESTOR An ‘twould, you’ld carry half.
ULYSSES A’ would have ten shares.
AJAX I will knead him; I’ll make him supple.
NESTOR He’s not yet through warm: force him with praises:
pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry.
ULYSSES [To AGAMEMNON]
My lord, you feed too much on this dislike.
NESTOR Our noble general, do not do so.
DIOMEDES You must prepare to fight without Achilles.
ULYSSES Why, ’tis this naming of him does him harm.
Here is a man–but ’tis before his face;
I will be silent.
NESTOR Wherefore should you so?
He is not emulous, as Achilles is.
ULYSSES Know the whole world, he is as valiant.
AJAX A whoreson dog, that shall pelter thus with us!
Would he were a Trojan!
NESTOR What a vice were it in Ajax now,–
ULYSSES If he were proud,–
DIOMEDES Or covetous of praise,–
ULYSSES Ay, or surly borne,–
DIOMEDES Or strange, or self-affected!
ULYSSES Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet composure;
Praise him that got thee, she that gave thee suck:
Famed be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature
Thrice famed, beyond all erudition:
But he that disciplined thy arms to fight,
Let Mars divide eternity in twain,
And give him half: and, for thy vigour,
Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield
To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom,
Which, like a bourn, a pale, a shore, confines
Thy spacious and dilated parts: here’s Nestor;
Instructed by the antiquary times,
He must, he is, he cannot but be wise:
Put pardon, father Nestor, were your days
As green as Ajax’ and your brain so temper’d,
You should not have the eminence of him,
But be as Ajax.
AJAX Shall I call you father?
NESTOR Ay, my good son.
DIOMEDES Be ruled by him, Lord Ajax.
ULYSSES There is no tarrying here; the hart Achilles
Keeps thicket. Please it our great general
To call together all his state of war;
Fresh kings are come to Troy: to-morrow
We must with all our main of power stand fast:
And here’s a lord,–come knights from east to west,
And cull their flower, Ajax shall cope the best.
AGAMEMNON Go we to council. Let Achilles sleep:
Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw deep.
Exeunt
Act 3
Scene 1
Troy. Priam’s palace.
Enter a Servant and PANDARUS
PANDARUS Friend, you! pray you, a word: do not you follow
the young Lord Paris?
Servant Ay, sir, when he goes before me.
PANDARUS You depend upon him, I mean?
Servant Sir, I do depend upon the lord.
PANDARUS You depend upon a noble gentleman; I must needs
praise him.
Servant The lord be praised!
PANDARUS You know me, do you not?
Servant Faith, sir, superficially.
PANDARUS Friend, know me better; I am the Lord Pandarus.
Servant I hope I shall know your honour better.
PANDARUS I do desire it.
Servant You are in the state of grace.
PANDARUS Grace! not so, friend: honour and lordship are my titles.
Music within
What music is this?
Servant I do but partly know, sir: it is music in parts.
PANDARUS Know you the musicians?
Servant Wholly, sir.
PANDARUS Who play they to?
Servant To the hearers, sir.
PANDARUS At whose pleasure, friend
Servant At mine, sir, and theirs that love music.
PANDARUS Command, I mean, friend.
Servant Who shall I command, sir?
PANDARUS Friend, we understand not one another: I am too
courtly and thou art too cunning. At whose request
do these men play?
Servant That’s to ‘t indeed, sir: marry, sir, at the request
of Paris my lord, who’s there in person; with him,
the mortal Venus, the heart-blood of beauty, love’s
invisible soul,–
PANDARUS Who, my cousin Cressida?
Servant No, sir, Helen: could you not find out that by her
attributes?
PANDARUS It should seem, fellow, that thou hast not seen the
Lady Cressida. I come to speak with Paris from the
Prince Troilus: I will make a complimental assault
upon him, for my business seethes.
Servant Sodden business! there’s a stewed phrase indeed!
Enter PARIS and HELEN, attended
PANDARUS Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair
company! fair desires, in all fair measure,
fairly guide them! especially to you, fair queen!
fair thoughts be your fair pillow!
HELEN Dear lord, you are full of fair words.
PANDARUS You speak your fair pleasure, sweet queen. Fair
prince, here is good broken music.
PARIS You have broke it, cousin: and, by my life, you
shall make it whole again; you shall piece it out
with a piece of your performance. Nell, he is full
of harmony.
PANDARUS Truly, lady, no.
HELEN O, sir,–
PANDARUS Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude.
PARIS Well said, my lord! well, you say so in fits.
PANDARUS I have business to my lord, dear queen. My lord,
will you vouchsafe me a word?
HELEN Nay, this shall not hedge us out: we’ll hear you
sing, certainly.
PANDARUS Well, sweet queen. you are pleasant with me. But,
marry, thus, my lord: my dear lord and most esteemed
friend, your brother Troilus,–
HELEN My Lord Pandarus; honey-sweet lord,–
PANDARUS Go to, sweet queen, to go:–commends himself most
affectionately to you,–
HELEN You shall not bob us out of our melody: if you do,
our melancholy upon your head!
PANDARUS Sweet queen, sweet queen! that’s a sweet queen, i’ faith.
HELEN And to make a sweet lady sad is a sour offence.
PANDARUS Nay, that shall not serve your turn; that shall not,
in truth, la. Nay, I care not for such words; no,
no. And, my lord, he desires you, that if the king
call for him at supper, you will make his excuse.
HELEN My Lord Pandarus,–
PANDARUS What says my sweet queen, my very very sweet queen?
PARIS What exploit’s in hand? where sups he to-night?
HELEN Nay, but, my lord,–
PANDARUS What says my sweet queen? My cousin will fall out
with you. You must not know where he sups.
PARIS I’ll lay my life, with my disposer Cressida.
PANDARUS No, no, no such matter; you are wide: come, your
disposer is sick.
PARIS Well, I’ll make excuse.
PANDARUS Ay, good my lord. Why should you say Cressida? no,
your poor disposer’s sick.
PARIS I spy.
PANDARUS You spy! what do you spy? Come, give me an