Troilus and Cressida — Act 5
Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS ACHILLES.
I'll heat his blood with Greekish wine to-night, Which with my scimitar I'll cool to-morrow.
Patroclus, let us feast him to the height.
PATROCLUS.
Here comes Thersites.
Enter THERSITES ACHILLES.
How now, thou core of envy!
Thou crusty batch of nature, what's the news?
THERSITES.
Why, thou picture of what thou seemest, and idol of idiot worshippers, here's a letter for thee.
ACHILLES.
From whence, fragment?
THERSITES.
Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy.
PATROCLUS.
Who keeps the tent now?
THERSITES.
The surgeon's box or the patient's wound.
PATROCLUS.
Well said, Adversity!
and what needs these tricks?
THERSITES.
Prithee, be silent, boy; I profit not by thy talk; thou art said to be Achilles' male varlet.
PATROCLUS.
Male varlet, you rogue!
What's that?
THERSITES.
Why, his masculine whore.
Now, the rotten diseases of the south, the guts-griping ruptures, catarrhs, loads o' gravel in the back, lethargies, cold palsies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten livers, wheezing lungs, bladders full of imposthume, sciaticas, limekilns i' th' palm, incurable bone-ache, and the rivelled fee- simple of the tetter, take and take again such preposterous discoveries!
PATROCLUS.
Why, thou damnable box of envy, thou, what meanest thou to curse thus?
THERSITES.
Do I curse thee?
PATROCLUS.
Why, no, you ruinous butt; you whoreson indistinguishable cur, no. THERSITES.
No!
Why art thou, then, exasperate, thou idle immaterial skein of sleid silk, thou green sarcenet flap for a sore eye, thou tassel of a prodigal's purse, thou?
Ah, how the poor world is pest'red with such water-flies-diminutives of nature!
PATROCLUS.
Out, gall!
THERSITES.
Finch egg!
ACHILLES.
My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite From my great purpose in to-morrow's battle.
Here is a letter from Queen Hecuba, A token from her daughter, my fair love, Both taxing me and gaging me to keep An oath that I have sworn.
I will not break it.
Fall Greeks; fail fame; honour or go or stay;
My major vow lies here, this I'll obey.
Come, come, Thersites, help to trim my tent;
This night in banqueting must all be spent.
Away, Patroclus!
Exit with PATROCLUS THERSITES.
With too much blood and too little brain these two may run mad; but, if with too much brain and to little blood they do, I'll be a curer of madmen.
Here's Agamemnon, an honest fellow enough, and one that loves quails, but he has not so much brain as ear-wax; and the goodly transformation of Jupiter there, his brother, the bull, the primitive statue and oblique memorial of cuckolds, a thrifty shoeing-horn in a chain, hanging at his brother's leg-to what form but that he is, should wit larded with malice, and malice forced with wit, turn him to?
To an ass, were nothing: he is both ass and ox.
To an ox, were nothing: he is both ox and ass.
To be a dog, a mule, a cat, a fitchew, a toad, a lizard, an owl, a put-tock, or a herring without a roe, I would not care; but to be Menelaus, I would conspire against destiny.
Ask me not what I would be, if I were not Thersites; for I care not to be the louse of a lazar, so I were not Menelaus.
Hey-day!
sprites and fires!
Enter HECTOR, TROILUS, AJAX, AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, NESTOR, MENELAUS, and DIOMEDES, with lights AGAMEMNON.
We go wrong, we go wrong.
AJAX.
No, yonder 'tis;
There, where we see the lights.
HECTOR.
I trouble you.
AJAX.
No, not a whit.
Re-enter ACHILLES ULYSSES.
Here comes himself to guide you.
ACHILLES.
Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, Princes all.
AGAMEMNON.
So now, fair Prince of Troy, I bid good night;
Ajax commands the guard to tend on you.
HECTOR.
Thanks, and good night to the Greeks' general.
MENELAUS.
Good night, my lord.
HECTOR.
Good night, sweet Lord Menelaus.
THERSITES.
Sweet draught!
'Sweet' quoth 'a?
Sweet sink, sweet sewer!
ACHILLES.
Good night and welcome, both at once, to those That go or tarry.
AGAMEMNON.
Good night.
Exeunt AGAMEMNON and MENELAUS ACHILLES.
Old Nestor tarries; and you too, Diomed, Keep Hector company an hour or two.
DIOMEDES.
I cannot, lord; I have important business, The tide whereof is now.
Good night, great Hector.
HECTOR.
Give me your hand.
ULYSSES.
[Aside to TROILUS] Follow his torch; he goes to Calchas' tent; I'll keep you company.
TROILUS.
Sweet sir, you honour me.
HECTOR.
And so, good night.
Exit DIOMEDES; ULYSSES and TROILUS following ACHILLES.
Come, come, enter my tent.
Exeunt all but THERSITES THERSITES.
That same Diomed's a false-hearted rogue, a most unjust knave; I will no more trust him when he leers than I will a serpent when he hisses.
He will spend his mouth and promise, like Brabbler the hound; but when he performs, astronomers foretell it: it is prodigious, there will come some change; the sun borrows of the moon when Diomed keeps his word.
I will rather leave to see Hector than not to dog him.
They say he keeps a Troyan drab, and uses the traitor Calchas' tent.
I'll after.
Nothing but lechery!
All incontinent varlets!
Exit ACT V. SCENE 2.
The Grecian camp.
Before CALCHAS' tent Enter DIOMEDES DIOMEDES.
What, are you up here, ho?
Speak.
CALCHAS.
[Within] Who calls?
DIOMEDES.
Diomed.
Calchas, I think.
Where's your daughter?
CALCHAS.
[Within] She comes to you.
Enter TROILUS and ULYSSES, at a distance; after them THERSITES
ULYSSES.
Stand where the torch may not discover us.
Enter CRESSIDA TROILUS.
Cressid comes forth to him.
DIOMEDES.
How now, my charge!
CRESSIDA.
Now, my sweet guardian!
Hark, a word with you.
[Whispers] TROILUS.
Yea, so familiar!
ULYSSES.
She will sing any man at first sight.
THERSITES.
And any man may sing her, if he can take her cliff;
she's noted.
DIOMEDES.
Will you remember?
CRESSIDA.
Remember?
Yes.
DIOMEDES.
Nay, but do, then;
And let your mind be coupled with your words.
TROILUS.
What shall she remember?
ULYSSES.
List!
CRESSIDA.
Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly.
THERSITES.
Roguery!
DIOMEDES.
Nay, then- CRESSIDA.
I'll tell you what- DIOMEDES.
Fo, fo!
come, tell a pin; you are a forsworn- CRESSIDA.
In faith, I cannot.
What would you have me do?
THERSITES.
A juggling trick, to be secretly open.
DIOMEDES.
What did you swear you would bestow on me?
CRESSIDA.
I prithee, do not hold me to mine oath;
Bid me do anything but that, sweet Greek.
DIOMEDES.
Good night.
TROILUS.
Hold, patience!
ULYSSES.
How now, Troyan!
CRESSIDA.
Diomed!
DIOMEDES.
No, no, good night; I'll be your fool no more.
TROILUS.
Thy better must.
CRESSIDA.
Hark!
a word in your ear.
TROILUS.
O plague and madness!
ULYSSES.
You are moved, Prince; let us depart, I pray, Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself To wrathful terms.
This place is dangerous;
The time right deadly; I beseech you, go.
TROILUS.
Behold, I pray you.
ULYSSES.
Nay, good my lord, go off;
You flow to great distraction; come, my lord.
TROILUS.
I prithee stay.
ULYSSES.
You have not patience; come.
TROILUS.
I pray you, stay; by hell and all hell's torments, I will not speak a word.
DIOMEDES.
And so, good night.
CRESSIDA.
Nay, but you part in anger.
TROILUS.
Doth that grieve thee?
O withered truth!
ULYSSES.
How now, my lord?
TROILUS.
By Jove, I will be patient.
CRESSIDA.
Guardian!
Why, Greek!
DIOMEDES.
Fo, fo!
adieu!
you palter.
CRESSIDA.
In faith, I do not.
Come hither once again.
ULYSSES.
You shake, my lord, at something; will you go?
You will break out.
TROILUS.
She strokes his cheek.
ULYSSES.
Come, come.
TROILUS.
Nay, stay; by Jove, I will not speak a word: There is between my will and all offences A guard of patience.
Stay a little while.
THERSITES.
How the devil luxury, with his fat rump and potato finger, tickles these together!
Fry, lechery, fry!
DIOMEDES.
But will you, then?
CRESSIDA.
In faith, I will, lo; never trust me else.
DIOMEDES.
Give me some token for the surety of it.
CRESSIDA.
I'll fetch you one.
Exit ULYSSES.
You have sworn patience.
TROILUS.
Fear me not, my lord;
I will not be myself, nor have cognition Of what I feel.
I am all patience.
Re-enter CRESSIDA THERSITES.
Now the pledge; now, now, now!
CRESSIDA.
Here, Diomed, keep this sleeve.
TROILUS.
O beauty!
where is thy faith?
ULYSSES.
My lord!
TROILUS.
I will be patient; outwardly I will.
CRESSIDA.
You look upon that sleeve; behold it well.
He lov'd me-O false wench!
-Give't me again.
DIOMEDES.
Whose was't?
CRESSIDA.
It is no matter, now I ha't again.
I will not meet with you to-morrow night.
I prithee, Diomed, visit me no more.
THERSITES.
Now she sharpens.
Well said, whetstone.
DIOMEDES.
I shall have it.
CRESSIDA.
What, this?
DIOMEDES.
Ay, that.
CRESSIDA.
O all you gods!
O pretty, pretty pledge!
Thy master now lies thinking on his bed Of thee and me, and sighs, and takes my glove, And gives memorial dainty kisses to it, As I kiss thee.
Nay, do not snatch it from me;
He that takes that doth take my heart withal.
DIOMEDES.
I had your heart before; this follows it.
TROILUS.
I did swear patience.
CRESSIDA.
You shall not have it, Diomed; faith, you shall not;
I'll give you something else.
DIOMEDES.
I will have this.
Whose was it?
CRESSIDA.
