Troilus and Cressida
By
William Shakespeare
CONTENTS:
SCENE
I. Troy. Before Priam's palace.
SCENE
III. The Grecian camp. Before Agamemnon's tent.
SCENE
I. A part of the Grecian camp.
SCENE
II. Troy. A room in Priam's palace.
SCENE
III. The Grecian camp. Before Achilles' tent.
SCENE
I. Troy. Priam's palace.
SCENE
II. The same. Pandarus' orchard.
SCENE
III. The Grecian camp. Before Achilles' tent.
SCENE
II. The same. Court of Pandarus' house.
SCENE
III. The same. Street before Pandarus' house.
SCENE
IV. The same. Pandarus' house.
SCENE
V. The Grecian camp. Lists set out.
SCENE
I. The Grecian camp. Before Achilles' tent.
SCENE
II. The same. Before Calchas' tent.
SCENE
III. Troy. Before Priam's palace.
SCENE
IV. Plains between Troy and the Grecian camp.
SCENE
V. Another part of the plains.
SCENE
VI. Another part of the plains.
SCENE
VII. Another part of the plains.
SCENE
VIII. Another part of the plains.
SCENE
IX. Another part of the plains.
SCENE
X. Another part of the plains.
In
The princes orgulous, their high blood chafed,
Have to the
Fraught with the ministers and instruments
Of cruel war: sixty and nine, that wore
Their crownets regal, from the Athenian bay
Put forth toward
To ransack
The ravish'd Helen, Menelaus' queen,
With wanton
To Tenedos they come;
And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge
Their warlike fraughtage: now on Dardan plains
The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch
Their brave pavilions: Priam's six-gated city,
Dardan, and Tymbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien,
And Antenorides, with massy staples
And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts,
Sperr up the sons
of
Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits,
On one and other side, Trojan and Greek,
Sets all on hazard: and hither am I come
A prologue arm'd, but not in confidence
Of author's pen or actor's voice, but suited
In like conditions as our argument,
To tell you, fair beholders, that our play
Leaps o'er the vaunt and firstlings of those broils,
Beginning in the middle, starting thence away
To what may be digested in a play.
Like or find fault; do as your pleasures are:
Now good or bad, 'tis but the chance of war.
Enter TROILUS armed, and PANDARUS
TROILUS
Call here my varlet; I'll unarm again:
Why should I war
without the walls of
That find such cruel battle here within?
Each Trojan that is master of his heart,
Let him to field; Troilus, alas! hath none.
PANDARUS
Will this gear ne'er be mended?
TROILUS
The Greeks are strong and skilful to their strength,
Fierce to their skill and to their fierceness valiant;
But I am weaker than a woman's tear,
Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance,
Less valiant than the virgin in the night
And skilless as unpractised infancy.
PANDARUS
Well, I have told you enough of this: for my part,
I'll not meddle nor make no further. He that will
have a cake out of the wheat must needs tarry the grinding.
TROILUS
Have I not tarried?
PANDARUS
Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry
the bolting.
TROILUS
Have I not tarried?
PANDARUS
Ay, the bolting, but you must tarry the leavening.
TROILUS
Still have I tarried.
PANDARUS
Ay, to the leavening; but here's yet in the word
'hereafter' the kneading, the making of the cake, the
heating of the oven and the baking; nay, you must
stay the cooling too, or you may chance to burn your lips.
TROILUS
Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be,
Doth lesser blench at sufferance than I do.
At Priam's royal table do I sit;
And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts,--
So, traitor! 'When she comes!' When is she thence?
PANDARUS
Well, she looked yesternight fairer than ever I saw
her look, or any woman else.
TROILUS
I was about to tell thee:--when my heart,
As wedged with a sigh, would rive in twain,
Lest Hector or my father should perceive me,
I have, as when the sun doth light a storm,
Buried this sigh in wrinkle of a smile:
But sorrow, that is couch'd in seeming gladness,
Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness.
PANDARUS
An her hair were not somewhat darker than Helen's--
well, go to--there were no more comparison between
the women: but, for my part, she is my kinswoman; I
would not, as they term it, praise her: but I would
somebody had heard her talk yesterday, as I did. I
will not dispraise your sister Cassandra's wit, but--
TROILUS
O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus,--
When I do tell thee, there my hopes lie drown'd,
Reply not in how many fathoms deep
They lie indrench'd. I tell thee I am mad
In Cressid's love: thou answer'st 'she is fair;'
Pour'st in the open ulcer of my heart
Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice,
Handlest in thy discourse, O, that her hand,
In whose comparison all whites are ink,
Writing their own reproach, to whose soft seizure
The cygnet's down is harsh and spirit of sense
Hard as the palm of ploughman: this thou tell'st me,
As true thou tell'st me, when I say I love her;
But, saying thus, instead of oil and balm,
Thou lay'st in every gash that love hath given me
The knife that made it.
PANDARUS
I speak no more than truth.
TROILUS
Thou dost not speak so much.
PANDARUS
Faith, I'll not meddle in't. Let her be as she is:
if she be fair, 'tis the better for her; an she be
not, she has the mends in her own hands.
TROILUS
Good Pandarus, how now, Pandarus!
PANDARUS
I have had my labour for my travail; ill-thought on of
her and ill-thought on of you; gone between and
between, but small thanks for my labour.
TROILUS
What, art thou angry, Pandarus? what, with me?
PANDARUS
Because she's kin to me, therefore she's not so fair
as Helen: an she were not kin to me, she would be as
fair on Friday as Helen is on Sunday. But what care
I? I care not an she were a black-a-moor; 'tis all one to me.
TROILUS
Say I she is not fair?
PANDARUS
I do not care whether you do or no. She's a fool to
stay behind her father; let her to the Greeks; and so
I'll tell her the next time I see her: for my part,
I'll meddle nor make no more i' the matter.
TROILUS
Pandarus,--
PANDARUS
Not I.
TROILUS
Sweet Pandarus,--
PANDARUS
Pray you, speak no more to me: I will leave all as I
found it, and there an end.
Exit PANDARUS. An alarum
TROILUS
Peace, you ungracious clamours! peace, rude sounds!
Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair,
When with your blood you daily paint her thus.
I cannot fight upon this argument;
It is too starved a subject for my sword.
But Pandarus,--O gods, how do you plague me!
I cannot come to Cressid but by Pandar;
And he's as tetchy to be woo'd to woo.
As she is stubborn-chaste against all suit.
Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne's love,
What Cressid is, what Pandar, and what we?
Her bed is
Between our
Let it be call'd the wild and wandering flood,
Ourself the merchant, and this sailing Pandar
Our doubtful hope, our convoy and our bark.
Alarum. Enter AENEAS
AENEAS
How now, Prince Troilus! wherefore not afield?
TROILUS
Because not there: this woman's answer sorts,
For womanish it is to be from thence.
What news, AEneas, from the field to-day?
AENEAS
That
TROILUS
By whom, AEneas?
AENEAS
Troilus, by Menelaus.
TROILUS
Let
Alarum
AENEAS
Hark, what good sport is out of town to-day!
TROILUS
Better at home, if 'would I might' were 'may.'
But to the sport abroad: are you bound thither?
AENEAS
In all swift haste.
TROILUS
Come, go we then together.
Exeunt
Enter CRESSIDA and ALEXANDER
CRESSIDA
Who were those went by?
ALEXANDER
Queen Hecuba and Helen.
CRESSIDA
And whither go they?
ALEXANDER
Up to the eastern tower,
Whose height commands as subject all the vale,
To see the battle. Hector, whose patience
Is, as a virtue, fix'd, to-day was moved:
He chid Andromache and struck his armourer,
And, like as there were husbandry in war,
Before the sun rose he was harness'd light,
And to the field goes he; where every flower
Did, as a prophet, weep what it foresaw
In Hector's wrath.
CRESSIDA
What was his cause of anger?
ALEXANDER
The noise goes, this: there is among the Greeks
A lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Hector;
They call him
CRESSIDA
Good; and what of him?
ALEXANDER
They say he is a very man per se,
And stands alone.
CRESSIDA
So do all men, unless they are drunk, sick, or have no legs.
ALEXANDER
This man, lady, hath robbed many beasts of their
particular additions; he is as valiant as the lion,
churlish as the bear, slow as the elephant: a man
into whom nature hath so crowded humours that his
valour is crushed into folly, his folly sauced with
discretion: there is no man hath a virtue that he
hath not a glimpse of, nor any man an attaint but he
carries some stain of it: he is melancholy without
cause, and merry against the hair: he hath the
joints of every thing, but everything so out of joint
that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no use,
or purblind Argus, all eyes and no sight.
CRESSIDA
But how should this man, that makes
me smile, make Hector angry?
ALEXANDER
They say he