The History of Troilus and Cressida - Уильям Шекспир

    In Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of Greece
    The princes orgillous, their high blood chaf'd,
    Have to the port of Athens sent their ships
    Fraught with the ministers and instruments
    Of cruel war. Sixty and nine that wore
    Their crownets regal from th' Athenian bay
    Put forth toward Phrygia; and their vow is made
    To ransack Troy, within whose strong immures
    The ravish'd Helen, Menelaus' queen,
    With wanton Paris sleeps-and that's the quarrel.
    To Tenedos they come,
    And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge
    Their war-like 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 Troy.
    Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits
    On one and other side, Troyan 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.

  TROILUS. Call here my varlet; I'll unarm again.
    Why should I war without the walls of Troy
    That find such cruel battle here within?
    Each Troyan 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 unpractis'd infancy.
  PANDARUS. Well, I have told you enough of this; for my part,
    I'll not meddle nor make no farther. 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 suff'rance than I do.
    At Priam's royal table do I sit;
    And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts-
    So, traitor, then she comes when she is thence.
  PANDARUS. Well, she look'd 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'-
    Pourest 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 it. 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 a
Friday
    as Helen is on Sunday. But what care I? I care not an she
were a
    blackamoor; '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' th' 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. Sound
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 starv'd 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 India; there she lies, a pearl;
    Between our Ilium and where she resides
    Let it be call'd the wild and wand'ring flood;
    Ourself the merchant, and this sailing Pandar
    Our doubtful hope, our convoy, and our bark.

  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 Paris is returned home, and hurt.
  TROILUS. By whom, Aeneas?
  AENEAS. Troilus, by Menelaus.
  TROILUS. Let Paris bleed: 'tis but a scar to scorn;
    Paris is gor'd with Menelaus' horn.
[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.

  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 mov'd.
    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 Troyan blood, nephew to Hector;
    They call him Ajax.
  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 robb'd many beasts of their
    particular additions: he is as valiant as a lion, churlish as
the
    bear, slow as the elephant-a man into whom nature hath so
crowded
    humours that his valour is crush'd 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 yesterday cop'd Hector in the battle and
    struck him down, the disdain and shame whereof hath ever
since
    kept Hector fasting and waking.

  CRESSIDA. Who comes here?
  ALEXANDER. Madam, your uncle Pandarus.
  CRESSIDA. Hector's a gallant man.
  ALEXANDER. As may be in the world, lady.
  PANDARUS. What's that? What's that?
  CRESSIDA. Good morrow, uncle Pandarus.
  PANDARUS. Good morrow, cousin Cressid. What do you talk of? -
Good
    morrow, Alexander.  How do you, cousin? When were you at
Ilium?
  CRESSIDA. This morning, uncle.
  PANDARUS. What were you talking of when I came? Was Hector
arm'd
    and gone ere you came to Ilium? Helen was not up, was she?
  CRESSIDA. Hector was gone; but Helen was not up.
  PANDARUS. E'en so. Hector was stirring early.
  CRESSIDA. That were we talking of, and of his anger.
  PANDARUS. Was he angry?
  CRESSIDA. So he says here.
  PANDARUS. True, he was so; I know the cause too; he'll lay
about
    him today, I can tell them that. And there's Troilus will not
    come far behind him; let them take heed of Troilus, I can
tell
    them that too.
  CRESSIDA. What, is he angry too?
  PANDARUS. Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better man of the two.
  CRESSIDA. O Jupiter! there's no comparison.
  PANDARUS. What, not between Troilus and Hector? Do you know a
man
    if you see him?
  CRESSIDA. Ay, if I ever saw him before and knew him.
  PANDARUS. Well, I say Troilus is Troilus.
  CRESSIDA. Then you say as I say, for I am sure he is not
Hector.
  PANDARUS. No, nor Hector is not Troilus in some degrees.
  CRESSIDA. 'Tis just to each of them: he is himself.
  PANDARUS. Himself! Alas, poor Troilus! I would he were!
  CRESSIDA. So he is.
  PANDARUS. Condition I had gone barefoot to India.
  CRESSIDA. He is not Hector.
  PANDARUS. Himself! no, he's not himself. Would 'a were himself!
    Well, the gods are above; time must friend or end. Well,
Troilus,
    well! I would my heart were in her body! No, Hector is not a
    better man than Troilus.
  CRESSIDA. Excuse me.
  PANDARUS. He is elder.
  CRESSIDA. Pardon me, pardon me.
  PANDARUS. Th' other's not come to't; you shall tell me another
tale
    when th' other's come to't. Hector shall not have his wit
this
    year.
  CRESSIDA. He shall not need it if he have his own.
  PANDARUS. Nor his qualities.
  CRESSIDA. No matter.
  PANDARUS. Nor his beauty.
  CRESSIDA. 'Twould not become him: his own's better.
  PANDARUS. YOU have no judgment, niece. Helen herself swore th'
    other day that Troilus, for a brown favour, for so 'tis, I
must
    confess- not brown neither-
  CRESSIDA. No, but brown.
  PANDARUS. Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown.
  CRESSIDA. To say the truth, true and not true.
  PANDARUS. She prais'd his complexion above Paris.
  CRESSIDA. Why, Paris hath colour enough.
  PANDARUS. So he has.
  CRESSIDA. Then Troilus should have too much. If she prais'd him
    above, his complexion is higher than his; he having colour
    enough, and the other higher, is too flaming praise for a
good
    complexion. I had as lief Helen's golden tongue had commended
    Troilus for a copper nose.
  PANDARUS. I swear to you I think Helen loves him better than
Paris.
  CRESSIDA. Then she's a merry Greek indeed.
  PANDARUS. Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him th' other
day
    into the compass'd window-and you know he has not past three
or
    four hairs on his chin-
  CRESSIDA. Indeed a tapster's arithmetic may soon bring his
    particulars therein to a total.
  PANDARUS. Why, he is very young, and yet will he within three
pound
    lift as much as his brother Hector.
  CRESSIDA. Is he so young a man and so old a lifter?
  PANDARUS. But to prove to you that Helen loves him: she came
and
    puts me her white hand to his cloven chin-
  CRESSIDA. Juno have mercy! How came it cloven?
  PANDARUS. Why, you know, 'tis dimpled. I think his smiling
becomes
    him better than any man in all Phrygia.
  CRESSIDA. O, he smiles valiantly!
  PANDARUS. Does he not?
  CRESSIDA. O yes, an 'twere a cloud in autumn!
  PANDARUS. Why, go to, then! But to prove to you that Helen
loves
    Troilus-
  CRESSIDA. Troilus will stand to the proof, if you'll prove it
so.
  PANDARUS. Troilus! Why, he esteems her no more than I esteem an
    addle egg.
  CRESSIDA. If you love an addle egg as well as you love an idle
    head, you would eat chickens i' th' shell.
  PANDARUS. I cannot choose but laugh to think how she tickled
his
    chin. Indeed, she has a marvell's white hand, I must needs
    confess.
  CRESSIDA. Without the rack.
  PANDARUS. And she takes upon her to spy a white hair on his
chin.
  CRESSIDA. Alas, poor chin! Many a wart is richer.
  PANDARUS. But there was such laughing! Queen Hecuba laugh'd
that
    her eyes ran o'er.
  CRESSIDA. With millstones.
  PANDARUS. And Cassandra laugh'd.
  CRESSIDA. But there was a more temperate fire under the pot of
her
    eyes. Did her eyes run o'er too?
  PANDARUS. And Hector laugh'd.
  CRESSIDA. At what was all this laughing?
  PANDARUS. Marry, at the white hair that Helen spied on Troilus'
    chin.
  CRESSIDA. An't had been a green hair I should have laugh'd too.
  PANDARUS. They laugh'd not so much at the hair as at his pretty
    answer.
  CRESSIDA. What was his answer?
  PANDARUS. Quoth she 'Here's but two and fifty hairs on your
chin,
    and one of them is white.'
  CRESSIDA. This is her question.
  PANDARUS. That's true; make no question of that. 'Two and fifty
    hairs,' quoth he 'and one white. That white hair is my
father,
    and all the rest are his sons.' 'Jupiter!' quoth she 'which
of
    these hairs is Paris my husband?' 'The forked one,' quoth he,
    'pluck't out and give it him.' But there was such laughing!
and
    Helen so blush'd, and Paris so chaf'd; and all the rest so
    laugh'd that it pass'd.
  CRESSIDA. So let it now; for it has been a great while going
by.
  PANDARUS. Well, cousin, I told you a thing yesterday; think
on't.
  CRESSIDA. So I do.
  PANDARUS. I'll be sworn 'tis true; he will weep you, and 'twere
a
    man born in April.
  CRESSIDA. And I'll spring up in his tears, an 'twere a nettle
    against May. [Sound a
retreat]
  PANDARUS. Hark! they are coming from the field. Shall we stand
up
    here and see them as they pass toward Ilium? Good niece, do,
    sweet niece Cressida.
  CRESSIDA. At your pleasure.
  PANDARUS. Here, here, here's an excellent place; here we may
see
    most bravely. I'll tell you them all by their names as they
pass
    by; but mark Troilus above the rest.