Act IV
Scene I
Troy. A street.
Enter, from one side, Aeneas, and Servant with a torch; from the other, Paris, Deiphobus, Antenor, Diomedes, and others, with torches. | |
Paris | See, ho! who is that there? |
Deiphobus | It is the Lord Aeneas. |
Aeneas |
Is the prince there in person?
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Diomedes | That’s my mind too. Good morrow, Lord Aeneas. |
Paris |
A valiant Greek, Aeneas—take his hand—
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Aeneas |
Health to you, valiant sir,
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Diomedes |
The one and other Diomed embraces.
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Aeneas |
And thou shalt hunt a lion, that will fly
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Diomedes |
We sympathise: Jove, let Aeneas live,
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Aeneas | We know each other well. |
Diomedes | We do; and long to know each other worse. |
Paris |
This is the most despiteful gentle greeting,
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Aeneas | I was sent for to the king; but why, I know not. |
Paris |
His purpose meets you: ’twas to bring this Greek
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Aeneas |
That I assure you:
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Paris |
There is no help;
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Aeneas | Good morrow, all. Exit with Servant. |
Paris |
And tell me, noble Diomed, faith, tell me true,
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Diomedes |
Both alike:
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Paris | You are too bitter to your countrywoman. |
Diomedes |
She’s bitter to her country: hear me, Paris:
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Paris |
Fair Diomed, you do as chapmen do,
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Scene II
The same. Court of Pandarus’ house.
Enter Troilus and Cressida. | |
Troilus | Dear, trouble not yourself: the morn is cold. |
Cressida |
Then, sweet my lord, I’ll call mine uncle down;
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Troilus |
Trouble him not;
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Cressida | Good morrow, then. |
Troilus | I prithee now, to bed. |
Cressida | Are you a-weary of me? |
Troilus |
O Cressida! but that the busy day,
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Cressida | Night hath been too brief. |
Troilus |
Beshrew the witch! with venomous wights she stays
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Cressida |
Prithee, tarry:
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Pandarus | Within. What, ’s all the doors open here? |
Troilus | It is your uncle. |
Cressida |
A pestilence on him! now will he be mocking:
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Enter Pandarus. | |
Pandarus | How now, how now! how go maidenheads? Here, you maid! where’s my cousin Cressid? |
Cressida |
Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle!
|
Pandarus | To do what? to do what? let her say what: what have I brought you to do? |
Cressida |
Come, come, beshrew your heart! you’ll ne’er be good,
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Pandarus | Ha! ha! Alas, poor wretch! ah, poor capocchia! hast not slept to-night? would he not, a naughty man, let it sleep? a bugbear take him! |
Cressida |
Did not I tell you? Would he were knock’d i’ the head! Knocking within.
|
Troilus | Ha, ha! |
Cressida |
Come, you are deceived, I think of no such thing. Knocking within.
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Pandarus | Who’s there? what’s the matter? will you beat down the door? How now! what’s the matter? |
Enter Aeneas. | |
Aeneas | Good morrow, lord, good morrow. |
Pandarus |
Who’s there? my Lord Aeneas! By my troth,
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Aeneas | Is not Prince Troilus here? |
Pandarus | Here! what should he do here? |
Aeneas |
Come, he is here, my lord; do not deny him:
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Pandarus | Is he here, say you? ’tis more than I know, I’ll be sworn: for my own part, I came in late. What should he do here? |
Aeneas | Who!—nay, then: come, come, you’ll do him wrong ere you’re ware: you’ll be so true to him, to be false to him: do not you know of him, but yet go fetch him hither; go. |
Re-enter Troilus. | |
Troilus | How now! what’s the matter? |
Aeneas |
My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you,
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Troilus | Is it so concluded? |
Aeneas |
By Priam and the general state of Troy:
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Troilus |
How my achievements mock me!
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Aeneas |
Good, good, my lord; the secrets of nature
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Pandarus | Is’t possible? no sooner got but lost? The devil take Antenor! the young prince will go mad: a plague upon Antenor! I would they had broke ’s neck! |
Re-enter Cressida. | |
Cressida | How now! what’s the matter? who was here? |
Pandarus | Ah, ah! |
Cressida | Why sigh you so profoundly? where’s my lord? gone! Tell me, sweet uncle, what’s the matter? |
Pandarus | Would I were as deep under the earth as I am above! |
Cressida | O the gods! what’s the matter? |
Pandarus | Prithee, get thee in: would thou hadst ne’er been born! I knew thou wouldst be his death. O, poor gentleman! A plague upon Antenor! |
Cressida | Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees I beseech you, what’s the matter? |
Pandarus | Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone; thou art changed for Antenor: thou must to thy father, and be gone from Troilus: ’twill be his death; ’twill be his bane; he cannot bear it. |
Cressida | O you immortal gods! I will not go. |
Pandarus | Thou must. |
Cressida |
I will not, uncle: I have forgot my father;
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Pandarus | Do, do. |
Cressida |
Tear my bright hair and scratch my praised cheeks,
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Scene III
The same. Street before Pandarus’ house.
Enter Paris, Troilus, Aeneas, Deiphobus, Antenor, and Diomedes. | |
Paris |
It is great morning, and the hour prefix’d
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Troilus |
Walk into her house;
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Paris |
I know what ’tis to love;
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Scene IV
The same. Pandarus’ house.
Enter Pandarus and Cressida. | |
Pandarus | Be moderate, be moderate. |
Cressida |
Why tell you me of moderation?
|
Pandarus | Here, here, here he comes. |
Enter Troilus. | |
Ah, sweet ducks! | |
Cressida | O Troilus! Troilus! Embracing him. |
Pandarus |
What a pair of spectacles is here! Let me embrace too. “O heart,” as the goodly saying is,
“—O heart, heavy heart,
where he answers again,
“Because thou canst not ease thy smart
There was never a truer rhyme. Let us cast away nothing, for we may live to have need of such a verse: we see it, we see it. How now, lambs? |
Troilus |
Cressid, I love thee in so strain’d a purity,
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Cressida | Have the gods envy? |
Pandarus | Ay, ay, ay, ay; ’tis too plain a case. |
Cressida | And is it true that I must go from Troy? |
Troilus | A hateful truth. |
Cressida | What, and from Troilus too? |
Troilus | From Troy and Troilus. |
Cressida | Is it possible? |
Troilus |
And suddenly; where injury of chance
|
Aeneas | Within. My lord, is the lady ready? |
Troilus |
Hark! you are call’d: some say the Genius so
|
Pandarus | Where are my tears? rain, to lay this wind, or my heart will be blown up by the root. Exit. |
Cressida | I must then to the Grecians? |
Troilus | No remedy. |
Cressida |
A woful Cressid ’mongst the merry Greeks!
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Troilus | Hear me, my love: be thou but true of heart— |
Cressida | I true! how now! what wicked deem is this? |
Troilus |
Nay, we must use expostulation kindly,
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Cressida |
O, you shall be exposed, my lord, to dangers
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Troilus | And I’ll grow friend with danger. Wear this sleeve. |
Cressida | And you this glove. When shall I see you? |
Troilus |
I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels,
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Cressida | O heavens! “be true” again! |
Troilus |
Hear while I speak it, love:
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Cressida | O heavens! you love me not. |
Troilus |
Die I a villain, then!
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Cressida | Do you think I will? |
Troilus |
No.
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Aeneas | Within. Nay, good my lord— |
Troilus | Come, kiss; and let us part. |
Paris | Within. Brother Troilus! |
Troilus |
Good brother, come you hither;
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Cressida | My lord, will you be true? |
Troilus |
Who, I? alas, it is my vice, my fault:
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Enter Aeneas, Paris, Antenor, Deiphobus, and Diomedes. | |
Welcome, Sir Diomed! here is the lady
|
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Diomedes |
Fair Lady Cressid,
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Troilus |
Grecian, thou dost not use me courteously,
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Diomedes |
O, be not moved, Prince Troilus:
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Troilus |
Come, to the port. I’ll tell thee, Diomed,
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Paris | Hark! Hector’s trumpet. |
Aeneas |
How have we spent this morning!
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Paris | ’Tis Troilus’ fault: come, come, to field with him. |
Deiphobus | Let us make ready straight. |
Aeneas |
Yea, with a bridegroom’s fresh alacrity,
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Scene V
The Grecian camp. Lists set out.
Enter Ajax, armed; Agamemnon, Achilles, Patroclus, Menelaus, Ulysses, Nestor, and others. | |
Agamemnon |
Here art thou in appointment fresh and fair,
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Ajax |
Thou, trumpet, there’s my purse.
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Ulysses | No trumpet answers. |
Achilles | ’Tis but early days. |
Agamemnon | Is not yond Diomed, with Calchas’ daughter? |
Ulysses |
’Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait;
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Enter Diomedes, with Cressida. | |
Agamemnon | Is this the Lady Cressid? |
Diomedes | Even she. |
Agamemnon | Most dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet lady. |
Nestor | Our general doth salute you with a kiss. |
Ulysses |
Yet is the kindness but particular;
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Nestor |
And very courtly counsel: I’ll begin.
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Achilles |
I’ll take what winter from your lips, fair lady:
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Menelaus | I had good argument for kissing once. |
Patroclus |
But that’s no argument for kissing now;
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Ulysses |
O deadly gall, and theme of all our scorns!
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Patroclus |
The first was Menelaus’ kiss; this, mine:
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Menelaus | O, this is trim! |
Patroclus | Paris and I kiss evermore for him. |
Menelaus | I’ll have my kiss, sir. Lady, by your leave. |
Cressida | In kissing, do you render or receive? |
Patroclus | Both take and give. |
Cressida |
I’ll make my match to live,
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Menelaus | I’ll give you boot, I’ll give you three for one. |
Cressida | You’re an odd man; give even, or give none. |
Menelaus | An odd man, lady! every man is odd. |
Cressida |
No, Paris is not; for you know ’tis true,
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Menelaus | You fillip me o’ the head. |
Cressida | No, I’ll be sworn. |
Ulysses |
It were no match, your nail against his horn.
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Cressida | You may. |
Ulysses | I do desire it. |
Cressida | Why, beg, then. |
Ulysses |
Why then for Venus’ sake, give me a kiss,
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Cressida | I am your debtor, claim it when ’tis due. |
Ulysses | Never’s my day, and then a kiss of you. |
Diomedes | Lady, a word: I’ll bring you to your father. Exit with Cressida. |
Nestor | A woman of quick sense. |
Ulysses |
Fie, fie upon her!
|
All | The Trojans’ trumpet. |
Agamemnon | Yonder comes the troop. |
Enter Hector, armed; Aeneas, Troilus, and other Trojans, with Attendants. | |
Aeneas |
Hail, all you state of Greece! what shall be done
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Agamemnon | Which way would Hector have it? |
Aeneas | He cares not; he’ll obey conditions. |
Achilles |
’Tis done like Hector; but securely done,
|
Aeneas |
If not Achilles, sir,
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Achilles | If not Achilles, nothing. |
Aeneas |
Therefore Achilles: but, whate’er, know this:
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Achilles | A maiden battle, then? O, I perceive you. |
Re-enter Diomedes. | |
Agamemnon |
Here is Sir Diomed. Go, gentle knight,
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Ulysses | They are opposed already. |
Agamemnon | What Trojan is that same that looks so heavy? |
Ulysses |
The youngest son of Priam, a true knight,
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Agamemnon | They are in action. |
Nestor | Now, Ajax, hold thine own! |
Troilus |
Hector, thou sleep’st;
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Agamemnon | His blows are well disposed: there, Ajax! |
Diomedes | You must no more. Trumpets cease. |
Aeneas | Princes, enough, so please you. |
Ajax | I am not warm yet; let us fight again. |
Diomedes | As Hector pleases. |
Hector |
Why, then will I no more:
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Ajax |
I thank thee, Hector
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Hector |
Not Neoptolemus so mirable,
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Aeneas |
There is expectance here from both the sides,
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Hector |
We’ll answer it;
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Ajax |
If I might in entreaties find success—
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Diomedes |
’Tis Agamemnon’s wish, and great Achilles
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Hector |
Aeneas, call my brother Troilus to me,
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Ajax | Great Agamemnon comes to meet us here. |
Hector |
The worthiest of them tell me name by name;
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Agamemnon |
Worthy of arms! as welcome as to one
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Hector | I thank thee, most imperious Agamemnon. |
Agamemnon | To Troilus. My well-famed lord of Troy, no less to you. |
Menelaus |
Let me confirm my princely brother’s greeting:
|
Hector | Who must we answer? |
Aeneas | The noble Menelaus. |
Hector |
O, you, my lord? by Mars his gauntlet, thanks!
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Menelaus | Name her not now, sir; she’s a deadly theme. |
Hector | O, pardon; I offend. |
Nestor |
I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft
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Aeneas | ’Tis the old Nestor. |
Hector |
Let me embrace thee, good old chronicle,
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Nestor |
I would my arms could match thee in contention,
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Hector | I would they could. |
Nestor |
Ha!
|
Ulysses |
I wonder now how yonder city stands
|
Hector |
I know your favour, Lord Ulysses, well.
|
Ulysses |
Sir, I foretold you then what would ensue:
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Hector |
I must not believe you:
|
Ulysses |
So to him we leave it.
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Achilles |
I shall forestall thee, Lord Ulysses, thou!
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Hector | Is this Achilles? |
Achilles | I am Achilles. |
Hector | Stand fair, I pray thee: let me look on thee. |
Achilles | Behold thy fill. |
Hector | Nay, I have done already. |
Achilles |
Thou art too brief: I will the second time,
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Hector |
O, like a book of sport thou’lt read me o’er;
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Achilles |
Tell me, you heavens, in which part of his body
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Hector |
It would discredit the blest gods, proud man,
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Achilles | I tell thee, yea. |
Hector |
Wert thou an oracle to tell me so,
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Ajax |
Do not chafe thee, cousin:
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Hector |
I pray you, let us see you in the field:
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Achilles |
Dost thou entreat me, Hector?
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Hector | Thy hand upon that match. |
Agamemnon |
First, all you peers of Greece, go to my tent;
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Troilus |
My Lord Ulysses, tell me, I beseech you,
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Ulysses |
At Menelaus’ tent, most princely Troilus:
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Troilus |
Shall I, sweet lord, be bound to you so much,
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Ulysses |
You shall command me, sir.
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Troilus |
O, sir, to such as boasting show their scars
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