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lie. |
CRESSIDA. Upon my back, to defend my belly; upon my wit, to defend |
my wiles; upon my secrecy, to defend mine honesty; my mask, to |
defend my beauty; and you, to defend all these; and at all these |
wards I lie at, at a thousand watches. |
PANDARUS. Say one of your watches. |
CRESSIDA. Nay, I'll watch you for that; and that's one of the |
chiefest of them too. If I cannot ward what I would not have hit, |
I can watch you for telling how I took the blow; unless it swell |
past hiding, and then it's past watching |
PANDARUS. You are such another! |
Enter TROILUS' BOY |
BOY. Sir, my lord would instantly speak with you. |
PANDARUS. Where? |
BOY. At your own house; there he unarms him. |
PANDARUS. Good boy, tell him I come. Exit Boy |
I doubt he be hurt. Fare ye well, good niece. |
CRESSIDA. Adieu, uncle. |
PANDARUS. I will be with you, niece, by and by. |
CRESSIDA. To bring, uncle. |
PANDARUS. Ay, a token from Troilus. |
CRESSIDA. By the same token, you are a bawd. |
Exit PANDARUS |
Words, vows, gifts, tears, and love's full sacrifice, |
He offers in another's enterprise; |
But more in Troilus thousand-fold I see |
Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be, |
Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing: |
Things won are done; joy's soul lies in the doing. |
That she belov'd knows nought that knows not this: |
Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is. |
That she was never yet that ever knew |
Love got so sweet as when desire did sue; |
Therefore this maxim out of love I teach: |
Achievement is command; ungain'd, beseech. |
Then though my heart's content firm love doth bear, |
Nothing of that shall from mine eyes appear. Exit |
ACT I. SCENE 3. |
The Grecian camp. Before AGAMEMNON'S tent |
Sennet. Enter AGAMEMNON, NESTOR, ULYSSES, DIOMEDES, MENELAUS, and others |
AGAMEMNON. Princes, |
What grief hath set these jaundies o'er your cheeks? |
The ample proposition that hope makes |
In all designs begun on earth below |
Fails in the promis'd largeness; checks and disasters |
Grow in the veins of actions highest rear'd, |
As knots, by the conflux of meeting sap, |
Infects the sound pine, and diverts his grain |
Tortive and errant from his course of growth. |
Nor, princes, is it matter new to us |
That we come short of our suppose so far |
That after seven years' siege yet Troy walls stand; |
Sith every action that hath gone before, |
Whereof we have record, trial did draw |
Bias and thwart, not answering the aim, |
And that unbodied figure of the thought |
That gave't surmised shape. Why then, you princes, |
Do you with cheeks abash'd behold our works |
And call them shames, which are, indeed, nought else |
But the protractive trials of great Jove |
To find persistive constancy in men; |
The fineness of which metal is not found |
In fortune's love? For then the bold and coward, |
The wise and fool, the artist and unread, |
The hard and soft, seem all affin'd and kin. |
But in the wind and tempest of her frown |
Distinction, with a broad and powerful fan, |
Puffing at all, winnows the light away; |
And what hath mass or matter by itself |
Lies rich in virtue and unmingled. |
NESTOR. With due observance of thy godlike seat, |
Great Agamemnon, Nestor shall apply |
Thy latest words. In the reproof of chance |
Lies the true proof of men. The sea being smooth, |
How many shallow bauble boats dare sail |
Upon her patient breast, making their way |
With those of nobler bulk! |
But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage |
The gentle Thetis, and anon behold |
The strong-ribb'd bark through liquid mountains cut, |
Bounding between the two moist elements |
Like Perseus' horse. Where's then the saucy boat, |
Whose weak untimber'd sides but even now |
Co-rivall'd greatness? Either to harbour fled |
Or made a toast for Neptune. Even so |
Doth valour's show and valour's worth divide |
In storms of fortune; for in her ray and brightness |
The herd hath more annoyance by the breeze |
Than by the tiger; but when the splitting wind |
Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks, |
And flies fled under shade-why, then the thing of courage |
As rous'd with rage, with rage doth sympathise, |
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