The Illustrated Works of Shakespeare/Illustrated Works of Shakespeare, The (1990)(Animated Pixels)[!][CDTV-PC].iso/shakes/text/22/03_03

Text File | 1991-04-10 | 15KB | 399 lines

The Grecian Camp.
 Flourish.
 Enter ULYSSES, DIOMEDES, NESTOR, AGAMEMNON, AJAX,
 MENELAUS, and CALCHAS.

Calchas    Now, princes, for the service I have done you,
    Th' advantage of the time prompts me aloud
    To call for recompense. Appear it to your mind
    That, through the sight I bear in things to come,
    I have abandoned Troy, left my possession,
    Incurred a traitor's name, exposed myself
    From certain and possessed conveniences
    To doubtful fortunes, sequest'ring from me all
    That time, acquaintance, custom and condition
    Made tame and most familiar to my nature;
    And here, to do you service, am become
    As new into the world, strange, unacquainted.
    I do beseech you, as in way of taste,
    To give me now a little benefit
    Out of those many registered in promise
    Which, you say, live to come in my behalf.

Agamemnon    What wouldst thou of us, Trojan? Make demand.

Calchas    You have a Trojan prisoner called Antenor
    Yesterday took: Troy holds him very dear.
    Oft have you - often have you thanks therefore-
    Desired my Cressid in right great exchange,
    Whom Troy hath still denied; but this Antenor
    I know is such a wrest in their affairs
    That their negotiations all must slack,
    Wanting his manage, and they will almost
    Give us a prince of blood, a son of Priam,
    In change of him. Let him be sent, great princes,
    And he shall buy my daughter; and her presence
    Shall quite strike off all service I have done
    In most accepted pain.

Agamemnon                                Let Diomedes bear him,
    And bring us Cressid hither: Calchas shall have
    What he requests of us. Good Diomed,
    Furnish you fairly for this interchange;
    Withal bring word if Hector will tomorrow
    Be answered in his challenge. Ajax is ready.

Diomedes    This shall I undertake, and 'tis a burden
    Which I am proud to bear.
                                                [Exeunt DIOMEDES and CALCHAS.

             Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS before their tent.

Ulysses    Achilles stands i'th' entrance of his tent;
    Please it our general to pass strangely by him,
    As if he were forgot; and, princes all,
    Lay negligent and loose regard upon him;
    I will come last. 'Tis like he'll question me
    Why such unplausive eyes are bent, why turned on him;
    If so, I have derision medicinable
    To use between your strangeness and his pride,
    Which his own will shall have desire to drink.
    It may do good: pride hath no other glass
    To show itself but pride; for supple knees
    Feed arrogance, and are the proud man's fees.

Agamemnon    We'll execute your purpose, and put on
    A form of strangeness as we pass along.
    So do each lord, and either greet him not
    Or else disdainfully, which shall shake him more
    Than if not looked on. I will lead the way.

Achilles    What, comes the general to speak with me?
    You know my mind; I'll fight no more 'gainst Troy.

Agamemnon    What says Achilles? Would he aught with us?

Nestor    Would you, my lord, aught with the general?

Achilles    No.

Nestor    Nothing, my lord.

Agamemnon    The better.
                                                [Exeunt AGAMEMNON and NESTOR.
Achilles    Good day, good day.

Menelaus    How do you? How do you?
                                                [Exit.
Achilles    What, does the cuckold scorn me?

Ajax    How now, Patroclus?

Achilles    Good morrow, Ajax.

Ajax    Ha?

Achilles    Good morrow.

Ajax    Ay, and good next day too.
                                                [Exit.
Achilles    What mean these fellows? Know they not Achilles?

Patroclus    They pass by strangely. They were used to bend,
    To send their smiles before them to Achilles,
    To come as humbly as they use to creep
    To holy altars.

Achilles                        What, am I poor of late?
    'Tis certain, greatness once fall'n out with fortune
    Must fall out with men too. What the declined is,
    He shall as soon read in the eyes of others
    As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies,
    Show not their mealy wings but to the summer,
    And not a man for being simply man
    Hath any honour, but honoured for those honours
    That are without him - as place, riches, and favour:
    Prizes of accident as oft as merit,
    Which, when they fall, as being slippery standers,
    The love that leaned on them, as slippery too,
    Doth one pluck down another, and together
    Die in the fall. But 'tis not so with me:
    Fortune and I are friends; I do enjoy
    At ample point all that I did possess,
    Save these men's looks; who do methinks find out
    Something not worth in me such rich beholding
    As they have often given. Here is Ulysses;
    I'll interrupt his reading. How now, Ulysses?

Ulysses    Now, great Thetis' son.

Achilles    What are you reading?

Ulysses                            A strange fellow here
    Writes me that man - how dearly ever parted,
    How much in having, or without or in-
    Cannot make boast to have that which he hath,
    Nor feels not what he owes, but by reflection;
    As when his virtues shining upon others
    Heat them, and they retort that heat again
    To the first giver.

Achilles                            This is not strange, Ulysses.
    The beauty that is borne here in the face
    The bearer knows not, but commends itself
    To others' eyes; nor doth the eye itself,
    That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself,
    Not going from itself; but eye to eye opposed
    Salutes each other with each other's form.
    For speculation turns not to itself
    Till it hath travelled, and is mirrored there
    Where it may see itself. This is not strange at all.

Ulysses    I do not strain at the position
    - It is familiar - but at the author's drift,
    Who in his circumstance expressly proves
    That no man is the lord of anything
    - Though in and of him there be much consisting-
    Till he communicate his parts to others;
    Nor doth he of himself know them for aught
    Till he behold them formd in th' applause
    Where they're extended; who, like an arch, reverb'rate
    The voice again, or, like a gate of steel
    Fronting the sun, receives and renders back
    His figure and his heat. I was much rapt in this,
    And apprehended here immediately
    The unknown Ajax. Heavens, what a man is there!
    A very horse, that has he knows not what!
    Nature, what things there are,
    Most abject in regard and dear in use!
    What things again most dear in the esteem
    And poor in worth! Now shall we see tomorrow,
    An act that very chance doth throw upon him,
    Ajax renowned. O heavens, what some men do
    While some men leave to do!
    How some men creep in skittish Fortune's hall
    Whiles others play the idiots in her eyes!
    How one man eats into another's pride
    While pride is fasting in his wantonness!
    To see these Grecian lords! Why, even already
    They clap the lubber Ajax on the shoulder,
    As if his foot were on brave Hector's breast,
    And great Troy shrinking.

Achilles    I do believe it, for they passed by me
    As misers do by beggars - neither gave to me
    Good word nor look. What, are my deeds forgot?

Ulysses    Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back,
    Wherein he puts alms for oblivion,
    A great-sized monster of ingratitudes.
    Those scraps are good deeds past, which are devoured
    As fast as they are made, forgot as soon
    As done. Perseverance, dear my lord,
    Keeps honour bright: to have done is to hang
    Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail
    In monumental mock'ry. Take the instant way,
    For honour travels in a strait so narrow
    Where one but goes abreast. Keep then the path,
    For emulation hath a thousand sons
    That one by one pursue; if you give way,
    Or hedge aside from the direct forthright,
    Like to an entered tide they all rush by
    And leave you hindmost;
    Or, like a gallant horse fall'n in first rank,
    Lie there for pavement for the abject rear,
    O'errun and trampled on. Then what they do in present,
    Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours;
    For Time is like a fashionable host
    That slightly shakes his parting guest by th' hand,
    And with his arms outstretched, as he would fly,
    Grasps in the comer: the welcome ever smiles,
    And farewell goes out sighing. O let not virtue seek
    Remuneration for the thing it was;
    For beauty, wit,
    High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service,
    Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all
    To envious and calumniating time.
    One touch of nature makes the whole world kin,
    That all with one consent praise new-born gauds,
    Though they are made and moulded of things past,
    And give to dust that is a little gilt
    More laud than gilt o'erdusted.
    The present eye praises the present object:
    Then marvel not, thou great and complete man,
    That all the Greeks begin to worship Ajax,
    Since things in motion sooner catch the eye
    Than what not stirs. The cry went once on thee,
    And still it might, and yet it may again,
    If thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive,
    And case thy reputation in thy tent,
    Whose glorious deeds but in these fields of late
    Made emulous missions 'mongst the gods themselves,
    And drave great Mars to faction.

Achilles                                    Of this my privacy
    I have strong reasons.

Ulysses                                But 'gainst your privacy
    The reasons are more potent and heroical.
    'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love
    With one of Priam's daughters.

Achilles                                        Ha, known?

Ulysses    Is that a wonder?
    The providence that's in a watchful state
    Knows almost every grain of Pluto's gold,
    Finds bottom in th' uncomprehensive deeps,
    Keeps place with thought, and almost like the gods
    Do thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles.
    There is a mystery, with whom relation
    Durst never meddle, in the soul of state,
    Which hath an operation more divine
    Than breath or pen can give expressure to.
    All the commerce that you have had with Troy
    As perfectly is ours as yours, my lord;
    And better would it fit Achilles much
    To throw down Hector than Polyxena.
    But it must grieve young Pyrrhus now at home,
    When fame shall in our islands sound her trump
    And all the Greekish girls shall tripping sing
    "Great Hector's sister did Achilles win,
    But our great Ajax bravely beat down him."
    Farewell, my lord. I as your lover speak;
    The fool slides o'er the ice that you should break.
                                                [Exit.
Patroclus    To this effect, Achilles, have I moved you.
    A woman impudent and mannish grown
    Is not more loathed than an effeminate man
    In time of action: I stand condemned for this.
    They think my little stomach to the war
    And your great love to me restrains you thus.
    Sweet, rouse yourself; and the weak wanton Cupid
    Shall from your neck unloose his amorous fold,
    And like a dew-drop from the lion's mane
    Be shook to air.

Achilles                        Shall Ajax fight with Hector?

Patroclus    Ay, and perhaps receive much honour by him.

Achilles    I see my reputation is at stake;
    My fame is shrewdly gored.

Patroclus                                    O then beware:
    Those wounds heal ill that men do give themselves.
    Omission to do what is necessary
    Seals a commission to a blank of danger;
    And danger, like an ague, subtly taints
    Even then when we sit idly in the sun.

Achilles    Go call Thersites hither, sweet Patroclus.
    I'll send the fool to Ajax, and desire him
    T'invite the Trojan lords after the combat
    To see us here unarmed. I have a woman's longing,
    An appetite that I am sick withal,
    To see great Hector in his weeds of peace,

                             Enter THERSITES.

    To talk with him, and to behold his visage
    Even to my full of view. - A labour saved!

Thersites    A wonder!

Achilles    What?

Thersites    Ajax goes up and down the field, asking for himself.

Achilles    How so?

Thersites    He must fight singly tomorrow with Hector, and is so
    prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling that he raves
    in saying nothing.

Achilles    How can that be?

Thersites    Why, he stalks up and down like a peacock - a stride and a
    stand; ruminates like an hostess that hath no arithmetic but
    her brain to set down her reckoning; bites his lip with a
    politic regard, as who should say "There were wit in this
    head, and 'twould out" - and so there is; but it lies as
    coldly in him as fire in a flint, which will not show
    without knocking. The man's undone for ever; for if Hector
    break not his neck i'th' combat, he'll break't himself in
    vainglory. He knows not me: I said "Good morrow, Ajax" and
    he replies "Thanks, Agamemnon". What think you of this man
    that takes me for the general? He's grown a very land-fish,
    languageless, a monster. A plague of opinion! A man may wear
    it on both sides, like a leather jerkin.

Achilles    Thou must be my ambassador to him, Thersites.

Thersites    Who, I? Why, he'll answer nobody; he professes not
    answering: speaking is for beggars, he wears his tongue in's
    arms. I will put on his presence - let Patroclus make his
    demands to me, you shall see the pageant of Ajax.

Achilles    To him, Patroclus. Tell him I humbly desire the valiant Ajax
    to invite the most valorous Hector to come unarmed to my
    tent, and to procure safe-conduct for his person of the
    magnanimous and most illustrious six or seven times honoured
    captain-general of the Grecian army, Agamemnon, et cetera.
    Do this.

Patroclus    Jove bless great Ajax!

Thersites    Hum.

Patroclus    I come from the worthy Achilles-

Thersites    Ha?

Patroclus    - who most humbly desires you to invite Hector to his tent-


Thersites    Hum.

Patroclus    - and to procure safe-conduct from Agamemnon.

Thersites    Agamemnon?

Patroclus    Ay, my lord.

Thersites    Ha!

Patroclus    What say you to't?

Thersites    God-buy-you, with all my heart.

Patroclus    Your answer, sir.

Thersites    If tomorrow be a fair day, by eleven a'clock it will go one
    way or other; howsoever, he shall pay for me ere he has me.

Patroclus    Your answer, sir.

Thersites    Fare you well, with all my heart.

Achilles    Why, but he is not in this tune, is he?

Thersites    No, but he's out a'tune thus. What music will be in him when
    Hector has knocked out his brains, I know not; but I am sure
    none, unless the fiddler Apollo get his sinews to make
    catlings on.

Achilles    Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight.

Thersites    Let me carry another to his horse, for that's the more
    capable creature.

Achilles    My mind is troubled like a fountain stirred,
    And I myself see not the bottom of it.
                                            [Exeunt ACHILLES and PATROCLUS.

Thersites    Would the fountain of your mind were clear again, that I
    might water an ass at it! I had rather be a tick in a sheep
    than such a valiant ignorance.
                                                [Exit.