Troilus and Cressida by William Shakespeare
Act 2 - Scene 3
The Grecian camp. Before Achilles’ tent.
Thersites : How now, Thersites! what lost in the labyrinth of
[p]thy fury! Shall
the elephant Ajax carry it thus? He
[p]beats me, and I rail at him: O,
worthy satisfaction!
[p]would it were otherwise; that I could beat
him,
[p]whilst he railed at me. 'Sfoot, I'll learn to
[p]conjure and
raise devils, but I'll see some issue of
[p]my spiteful execrations.
Then there's Achilles, a
[p]rare enginer! If Troy be not taken till
these two
[p]undermine it, the walls will stand till they fall
of
[p]themselves. O thou great thunder-darter of Olympus,
[p]forget
that thou art Jove, the king of gods and,
[p]Mercury, lose all the
serpentine craft of thy
[p]caduceus, if ye take not that little,
little less
[p]than little wit from them that they have!
which
[p]short-armed ignorance itself knows is so abundant
[p]scarce,
it will not in circumvention deliver a fly
[p]from a spider, without
drawing their massy irons and
[p]cutting the web. After this, the
vengeance on the
[p]whole camp! or rather, the bone-ache! for
that,
[p]methinks, is the curse dependent on those that war
[p]for a
placket. I have said my prayers and devil Envy
[p]say Amen. What ho!
my Lord Achilles!
Patroclus : Who's there? Thersites! Good Thersites, come in and rail.
Thersites : If I could have remembered a gilt counterfeit, thou
[p]wouldst not
have slipped out of my contemplation: but
[p]it is no matter; thyself
upon thyself! The common
[p]curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be
thine in
[p]great revenue! heaven bless thee from a tutor,
and
[p]discipline come not near thee! Let thy blood be
thy
[p]direction till thy death! then if she that lays thee
[p]out
says thou art a fair corse, I'll be sworn and
[p]sworn upon't she
never shrouded any but lazars.
[p]Amen. Where's Achilles?
Patroclus : What, art thou devout? wast thou in prayer?
Thersites : Ay: the heavens hear me!
Achilles : Who's there?
Patroclus : Thersites, my lord.
Achilles : Where, where? Art thou come? why, my cheese, my
[p]digestion, why hast
thou not served thyself in to
[p]my table so many meals? Come, what's
Agamemnon?
Thersites : Thy commander, Achilles. Then tell me, Patroclus,
[p]what's Achilles?
Patroclus : Thy lord, Thersites: then tell me, I pray thee,
[p]what's thyself?
Thersites : Thy knower, Patroclus: then tell me, Patroclus,
[p]what art thou?
Patroclus : Thou mayst tell that knowest.
Achilles : O, tell, tell.
Thersites : I'll decline the whole question. Agamemnon commands
[p]Achilles;
Achilles is my lord; I am Patroclus'
[p]knower, and Patroclus is a
fool.
Patroclus : You rascal!
Thersites : Peace, fool! I have not done.
Achilles : He is a privileged man. Proceed, Thersites.
Thersites : Agamemnon is a fool; Achilles is a fool; Thersites
[p]is a fool, and,
as aforesaid, Patroclus is a fool.
Achilles : Derive this; come.
Thersites : Agamemnon is a fool to offer to command Achilles;
[p]Achilles is a
fool to be commanded of Agamemnon;
[p]Thersites is a fool to serve
such a fool, and
[p]Patroclus is a fool positive.
Patroclus : Why am I a fool?
Thersites : Make that demand of the prover. It suffices me thou
[p]art. Look you,
who comes here?
Achilles : Patroclus, I'll speak with nobody.
[p]Come in with me, Thersites.
Thersites : Here is such patchery, such juggling and such
[p]knavery! all the
argument is a cuckold and a
[p]whore; a good quarrel to draw emulous
factions
[p]and bleed to death upon. Now, the dry serpigo on
[p]the
subject! and war and lechery confound all!
Agamemnon : Where is Achilles?
Patroclus : Within his tent; but ill disposed, my lord.
Agamemnon : Let it be known to him that we are here.
[p]He shent our messengers;
and we lay by
[p]Our appertainments, visiting of him:
[p]Let him be
told so; lest perchance he think
[p]We dare not move the question of
our place,
[p]Or know not what we are.
Patroclus : I shall say so to him.
Ulysses : We saw him at the opening of his tent:
[p]He is not sick.
Ajax : Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart: you may call it
[p]melancholy, if
you will favour the man; but, by my
[p]head, 'tis pride: but why, why?
let him show us the
[p]cause. A word, my lord.
Nestor : What moves Ajax thus to bay at him?
Ulysses : Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him.
Nestor : Who, Thersites?
Ulysses : He.
Nestor : Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost his argument.
Ulysses : No, you see, he is his argument that has his
[p]argument, Achilles.
Nestor : All the better; their fraction is more our wish than
[p]their faction:
but it was a strong composure a fool
[p]could disunite.
Ulysses : The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily
[p]untie. Here comes
Patroclus.
Nestor : No Achilles with him.
Ulysses : The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy:
[p]his legs are legs
for necessity, not for flexure.
Patroclus : Achilles bids me say, he is much sorry,
[p]If any thing more than your
sport and pleasure
[p]Did move your greatness and this noble
state
[p]To call upon him; he hopes it is no other
[p]But for your
health and your digestion sake,
[p]And after-dinner's breath.
Agamemnon : Hear you, Patroclus:
[p]We are too well acquainted with these
answers:
[p]But his evasion, wing'd thus swift with scorn,
[p]Cannot
outfly our apprehensions.
[p]Much attribute he hath, and much the
reason
[p]Why we ascribe it to him; yet all his virtues,
[p]Not
virtuously on his own part beheld,
[p]Do in our eyes begin to lose
their gloss,
[p]Yea, like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish,
[p]Are
like to rot untasted. Go and tell him,
[p]We come to speak with him;
and you shall not sin,
[p]If you do say we think him over-proud
[p]And
under-honest, in self-assumption greater
[p]Than in the note of
judgment; and worthier
[p]than himself
[p]Here tend the savage
strangeness he puts on,
[p]Disguise the holy strength of their
command,
[p]And underwrite in an observing kind
[p]His humorous
predominance; yea, watch
[p]His pettish lunes, his ebbs, his flows, as
if
[p]The passage and whole carriage of this action
[p]Rode on his
tide. Go tell him this, and add,
[p]That if he overhold his price so
much,
[p]We'll none of him; but let him, like an engine
[p]Not
portable, lie under this report:
[p]'Bring action hither, this cannot
go to war:
[p]A stirring dwarf we do allowance give
[p]Before a
sleeping giant.' Tell him so.
Patroclus : I shall; and bring his answer presently.
Agamemnon : In second voice we'll not be satisfied;
[p]We come to speak with him.
Ulysses, enter you.
Ajax : What is he more than another?
Agamemnon : No more than what he thinks he is.
Ajax : Is he so much? Do you not think he thinks himself a
[p]better man than
I am?
Agamemnon : No question.
Ajax : Will you subscribe his thought, and say he is?
Agamemnon : No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as valiant, as
[p]wise, no less
noble, much more gentle, and altogether
[p]more tractable.
Ajax : Why should a man be proud? How doth pride grow? I
[p]know not what
pride is.
Agamemnon : Your mind is the clearer, Ajax, and your virtues the
[p]fairer. He
that is proud eats up himself: pride is
[p]his own glass, his own
trumpet, his own chronicle;
[p]and whatever praises itself but in the
deed, devours
[p]the deed in the praise.
Ajax : I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendering of toads.
Nestor : Yet he loves himself: is't not strange?
Ulysses : Achilles will not to the field to-morrow.
Agamemnon : What's his excuse?
Ulysses : He doth rely on none,
[p]But carries on the stream of his
dispose
[p]Without observance or respect of any,
[p]In will peculiar
and in self-admission.
Agamemnon : Why will he not upon our fair request
[p]Untent his person and share
the air with us?
Ulysses : Things small as nothing, for request's sake only,
[p]He makes
important: possess'd he is with greatness,
[p]And speaks not to
himself but with a pride
[p]That quarrels at self-breath: imagined
worth
[p]Holds in his blood such swoln and hot discourse
[p]That
'twixt his mental and his active parts
[p]Kingdom'd Achilles in
commotion rages
[p]And batters down himself: what should I say?
[p]He
is so plaguy proud that the death-tokens of it
[p]Cry 'No
recovery.'AGAMEMNON. Let Ajax go to him.
[p]Dear lord, go you and
greet him in his tent:
[p]'Tis said he holds you well, and will be
led
[p]At your request a little from himself.
Ulysses : O Agamemnon, let it not be so!
[p]We'll consecrate the steps that Ajax
makes
[p]When they go from Achilles: shall the proud lord
[p]That
bastes his arrogance with his own seam
[p]And never suffers matter of
the world
[p]Enter his thoughts, save such as do revolve
[p]And
ruminate himself, shall he be worshipp'd
[p]Of that we hold an idol
more than he?
[p]No, this thrice worthy and right valiant lord
[p]Must
not so stale his palm, nobly acquired;
[p]Nor, by my will, assubjugate
his merit,
[p]As amply titled as Achilles is,
[p]By going to
Achilles:
[p]That were to enlard his fat already pride
[p]And add more
coals to Cancer when he burns
[p]With entertaining great
Hyperion.
[p]This lord go to him! Jupiter forbid,
[p]And say in
thunder 'Achilles go to him.'
Nestor : [Aside to DIOMEDES] O, this is well; he rubs the
[p]vein of him.
Diomedes : [Aside to NESTOR] And how his silence drinks up
[p]this applause!
Ajax : If I go to him, with my armed fist I'll pash him o'er the face.
Agamemnon : O, no, you shall not go.
Ajax : An a' be proud with me, I'll pheeze his pride:
[p]Let me go to him.
Ulysses : Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.
Ajax : A paltry, insolent fellow!
Nestor : How he describes himself!
Ajax : Can he not be sociable?
Ulysses : The raven chides blackness.
Ajax : I'll let his humours blood.
Agamemnon : He will be the physician that should be the patient.
Ajax : An all men were o' my mind,--
Ulysses : Wit would be out of fashion.
Ajax : A' should not bear it so, a' should eat swords first:
[p]shall pride
carry it?
Nestor : An 'twould, you'ld carry half.
Ulysses : A' would have ten shares.
Ajax : I will knead him; I'll make him supple.
Nestor : He's not yet through warm: force him with praises:
[p]pour in, pour
in; his ambition is dry.
Ulysses : [To AGAMEMNON] My lord, you feed too much on this dislike.
Nestor : Our noble general, do not do so.
Diomedes : You must prepare to fight without Achilles.
Ulysses : Why, 'tis this naming of him does him harm.
[p]Here is a man--but 'tis
before his face;
[p]I will be silent.
Nestor : Wherefore should you so?
[p]He is not emulous, as Achilles is.
Ulysses : Know the whole world, he is as valiant.
Ajax : A whoreson dog, that shall pelter thus with us!
[p]Would he were a
Trojan!
Nestor : What a vice were it in Ajax now,--
Ulysses : If he were proud,--
Diomedes : Or covetous of praise,--
Ulysses : Ay, or surly borne,--
Diomedes : Or strange, or self-affected!
Ulysses : Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet composure;
[p]Praise him
that got thee, she that gave thee suck:
[p]Famed be thy tutor, and thy
parts of nature
[p]Thrice famed, beyond all erudition:
[p]But he that
disciplined thy arms to fight,
[p]Let Mars divide eternity in
twain,
[p]And give him half: and, for thy vigour,
[p]Bull-bearing Milo
his addition yield
[p]To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy
wisdom,
[p]Which, like a bourn, a pale, a shore, confines
[p]Thy
spacious and dilated parts: here's Nestor;
[p]Instructed by the
antiquary times,
[p]He must, he is, he cannot but be wise:
[p]Put
pardon, father Nestor, were your days
[p]As green as Ajax' and your
brain so temper'd,
[p]You should not have the eminence of him,
[p]But
be as Ajax.
Ajax : Shall I call you father?
Nestor : Ay, my good son.
Diomedes : Be ruled by him, Lord Ajax.
Ulysses : There is no tarrying here; the hart Achilles
[p]Keeps thicket. Please
it our great general
[p]To call together all his state of
war;
[p]Fresh kings are come to Troy: to-morrow
[p]We must with all
our main of power stand fast:
[p]And here's a lord,--come knights from
east to west,
[p]And cull their flower, Ajax shall cope the best.
Agamemnon : Go we to council. Let Achilles sleep:
[p]Light boats sail swift,
though greater hulks draw deep.
Previous: Act 2 - Scene 2
Next: Act 3 - Scene 1
