The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare

Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing :
Things won are done, joy's soul lies in the doing:
That she belov'd knows nought, that knows not
this,-

Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is:
That she was never yet, that ever knew
Love got so sweet, as when desire did sue:
Therefore, this maxim out of love I teach,-
Achievement is command; ungain'd beseech:
Then though my heart's content firm love doth
bear,

Nothing of that shall from mine eyes appear.

[Exit.

SCENE III.—The Grecian Camp.-Before Agamemnon's Tent.

Trumpets. Enter AGAMEMNON, NESTOR,
ULYSSES, MENELAUS, and others.
Agam. Princes,

What grief hath set the jaundice on your cheeks?
The ample proposition, that hope makes
In all designs begun on earth below,
Fails in the promis'd largeness; checks and

asters

As rous'd with rage, with age doth sympathize,
And with an accent turn'd in self-same key,
Returns to chiding fortune.
Ulyss. Agamemnon,—

Thou great commander, nerve, and bone of
Greece,

sway,

Heart of our numbers, soul and only spirit
In whom the tempers and the minds of all
Should be shut up,-hear what Ulysses speaks
Besides the applause and approbation
The which,-most mighty for thy place and
[To AGAMEMNON
And thou most reverend for thy stretch'd-out
life,-
[To NESTOR.
I give to both your speeches,-which were such,
As Agamemnon and the hand of Greece
Should hold up high in brass; and such again,
As venerable Nestor, hatch'd in silver,
Should with a bond of air (strong as the axle-

tree

ears

On which heaven rides,) knit all the Greekish [both,To his experienc'd tongue,-yet let it please dis-Thou great,-and wise,-to hear Ulysses speak. Agam. Speak, prince of Ithaca; and be't of less expect

Grow in the veins of actions highest rear'd;
As knots, by the conflúx of meeting sap,
Infect the sound pine, and divert his grain
Tortive and errant from his course of growth.
Nor, princes, is it matter new to us,
That we come short of our suppose so far,
That, after seven years' siege, yet Troy walls
stand;

Sith every action that hath gone before,
Whereof we have record, trial did draw
Bias and thwart, not answering the aim,
And that unbodied figure of the thought
That gav't surmised shape. Why then, you
princes,

Do you with cheeks abash'd behold our works; And thing them shames, which are, indeed, nought else

But the protractive trials of great Jove.
To find persistive constancy in men?
The fineness of which metal is not found
In fortune's love; for then, the bold
coward,

The wise and fool, the artist and unread,
The hard and soft, seem all affin'd and kiu:
But, in the wind and tempest of her frown,
Distinction, with a broad and powerful fan,
Puffing at all, winnows the light away;
And what hath mass or matter, by itself
Lies, rich in virtue, and unmingled.

[ter,

And the great Hector's sword had lack'd a mas-
But for these instances.

The speciality of rule + hath been neglected;
And, look, how many Grecian tents do stand
Hollow upon this plain, so many hollow fac-
tions.

When that the general is not like the hive,
To whom the foragers shall all repair,
What honey is expected? Degree being viz-
arded, I

The unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask.
The heavens themselves, the planets, and this
centre,

and Observe degree, priority, and place,

Nest. With due observance of thy godlike seat,

Great Agamemnon, Nestor shall apply
Thy latest words. In the reproof of chance
Lies the true proof of men: The sea being
smooth,

How many shallow bauble boats dare sail
Upon her patient breast, making their way
With those of noble bulk.

But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage
The gentler Thetis, and, anon, behold

The strong ribb'd bark through liquid mountains cut,

Bounding between the two moist elements,
Like Perseus' horse; Where's then the saucy
boat,

Whose weak untimber'd sides but even now
Co-rival'd greatness? either to harbour fled,
Or made a toast for Neptune. Even so
Doth valour's show, and valour's worth, divide,
In storms of fortune: For, in her ray and
brightness,

The herd hath more annoyance by the brize, ¶
Than by the tiger: but when the splitting wind
Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks,
And flies fled under shade, why, then the thing
of courage

Insisture, course, proportion, season, form,
Office, and custom, in all line of order:
And therefore is the glorious planet, Sol,
In noble eminence enthron'd and spher'd
Amidst the other; whose med'cinable eye
Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil,
And posts, like the commandment of a king,
Sans cheek, to good and bad: But when the
planets,

In evil mixture, to disorder wander,
What plagues, and what portents? what mutiny ?
What raging of the sea? shaking of earth?
Commotion in the winds? frights, changes, hor-

rors,

Divert and crack, rend and deracinate ¶
The unity and married calm of states
Quite from their fixture? Oh! when degree is
shak'd,

Which is the ladder of all high designs,
The enterprize is sick! How could commu
nities,

Degrees in schools, and brotherhoods ** in cities,
Peaceful commérce from dividable + shores,
The primogenitive and due of birth,
Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels,
But by degree, stand in authentic place?
Take but degree away, untune that string,
And, hark, what discord follows! each thing
meets

In mere tt oppugnancy: The bounded waters
Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores,
And make a sop of all this solid globe:
Strength should be lord of imbecility,
And the rude son should strike his father
dead:

Force should be right; or, rather, right and | With an imperial voice, many are infect.

Then every thing includes itself in power,
Power into will will into appetite;

And appetite, a universal wolf,

So doubly seconded with will and power,
Must make perforce a universal prey,

And, last, eat up himself. Great Agamemnon,
This chaos, when degree is suffocate,
Follows the choking.

And this neglection of degree it is,

That by a pace goes backward, with a purpose
It hath to climb. The general's disdain'd
By him one step below; he, by the next;
That next, by him beneath so every step,
Exampled by the first pace that is sick
Of his superior, grows to an envious fever
Of pale and bloodless emulation:

And 'tis this fever that keeps Troy on foot,
Not her own sinews. To end a tale of length,
Troy in our weakness stands, not in her
strength.

Nest. Most wisely hath Ulysses here discover'd

The fever whereof all our power is sick.
Agam. The nature of the sickness found,
What is the remedy?
[Ulysses,
Ulyss. The great Achilles,-whom opinion

Ajax is grown self-will'd; and bears his head
In such a reign, in full as proud a place
As broad Achilles: keeps his tent like him ;
Makes factious feasts; rails on our state of war
Bold as an oracle: and sets Thersites

(A slave, whose gall coins slanders like a mint,)
To match us in comparisons with dirt;
To weaken and discredit our exposure,
How rank soever rounded in with danger.
Ulyss. They tax our policy, and call it cow-
ardice;

Count wisdom as no member of the war;
Forestall prescience, and esteem no act
But that of hand: the still and mental parts,—
That do contrive how many hands shall strike,
When fitness call them on; and know, by mea-

sure

Of their observant toil, the enemies' weight,—
Why, this hath not a finger's dignity:
They call this-bed-work, mappery, closet-war :
So that the ram, that batters down the wall,
For the great swing and ru'eness of his poise,
They place before his hand that made the en-
gine;

Or those, that with the fineness of their souls
By reason guide his execution.

Nest. Let this be granted, and Achilles'

horse

Makes many Thetis' sons. [Trumpet sounds.
Agam. What trumpet? look, Menelaus.
Enter ENEAS.

Men. From Troy.

Agam. What would you 'fore our tent?
Ene. Is this

Great Agamemnon's tent, I pray?
Agam. Even this.

Ene. May one, that is a herald and a prince, Do a fair message to his kingly ears?

Agam. With surety stronger than Achilles' arm, 'Fore all the Greekish heads, which with one voice

Such to-be-pitied and o'er-wrested || seeming
He acts thy greatness in: and when he speaks,
"Tis like a chime a mending; with terms un-I
squar'd, ¶
[dropp'd,
Which, from the tongue of roaring Typhon
Would seem hyperboles. At this fusty stuff,
The large Achilles, on his press'd bed lolling,
From his deep chest laughs out a loud ap-

beard,

As he, being dress'd to some oration.
That's done as near as the extremest ends
of parallels; as like as Vulcan and his wife.
Yet good Achilles still cries, Excellent!
'Tis Nestor right! Now play him me, Patro-
clus,

Arming to answer in a night alarm.
And then, forsooth, the faint defects of age
Must be the scene of mirth; to cough, and spit,
And with a palsy-fumbling on his gorget,
Shake in and out the rivet :-and at this sport,
Sir Valour dies; cries, O!-enough, Patro-

clus;

Or give me ribs of steel! I shall split all
In pleasure of my spleen. And in this fashion,
All our abilities, gifts, natures, shapes,
Severals and generals of grace exact,
Achievements, plots, orders, preventions,
Excitements to the field, or speech for truce,
Success, or loss, what is, or is not, serves
As stuff for these two to make paradoxes.
Nest. And in the imitation of these twain
(Whoin, as Ulysses says, opinion crowns

Call Agamemnon head and general.

Ene. Fair leave, and large security. How may A stranger to those most imperial looks Know them from eyes of other mortals ? Agam. How?

Ene. Ay;

ask, that I might waken reverence,
And bid the cheek be ready with a blush
Modest as morning when she coldly eyes
The youthful Phoebus :

Which is that god in office, guiding men?
Which is the high and mighty Agamemnon !
Agam. This Trojan scorus us; or the men of
Troy,

Are ceremonious courtiers.

Ene. Courtiers as free, as debonair, unarm'd, As bending angels; that's their fame in peace : But when they would seem soldiers, they have galls,

Good arins, strong joints, true swords; and,
Jove's accord,

Nothing so full of heart. But peace, Eneas,
Peace, Trojan; lay thy finger on thy lips!
The worthiness of praise distains his worth,
If that the prais'd himself bring the praise

forth:

But what the repining enemy commends, That breath fame follows; that praise, sole pure, transcends.

Agam. Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself
Eneas?

Ene. Ay, Greek, that is my name.
Agam. What's your affair, I pray you?
Ene. Sir, pardon; 'tis for Agamemnon's

ears.

Agam. He hears nought privately, that comes

from Troy.

Ene. Nor I from Troy come not to whispe

him:

I bring a trumpet to awake his ear; To set his sense on the attentive bent, And then to speak.

Agam. Speak frankly as the wind;

It is not Agamemnon's s'eeping hour:
That thou shalt know, Trojan, he is awake,
He tells thee so himself.

Ene. Trumpet blow loud,

Send thy brass voice through all these lazy
tents ;-

And every Greek of mettle, let him know,
What Troy means fairly shall be spoke aloud.
[Trumpet sounds.
We have, great Agamemnon, here in Troy,
A prince call'd Hector, (Priam is his father)
Who in this dull and long-continued truce
Is rusty grown; he bade me take a trumpet,
And to this purpose speak. Kings, princes,

lords!

If there be one among the fair'st of Greece,
That holds his honour higher than his ease;
That seeks his praise more than he fears his
peril ;

That knows his valour, and knows not to fear;
That loves his mistress more than in confession,
(With truant vows to her own lips he loves,)
And dare avow her beauty and her worth,
In other arms than hers,-to him this chal-
lenge.

Nest. Well, and how?

Ulyss. This challenge that the gallant Hector

sends,

However it is spread in general name,

Relates in purpose only to Achilles.

Nest. The purpose is perspicuous even as sub
stance,

Whose grossness little characters sum up:
And, in the publication, make no strain,
But that Achilles, were his brain as barren
As banks of Libya,-though, Apollo knows,
'Tis dry enough,-will, with what great speed of
judgment,

Ay, with celerity, find Hector's purpose
Pointing on him.

Ulyss. And wake him to the answer, think
you?

Nest. Yes,

It is most meet; Whom may you else oppose
That can from Hector bring those honours off,
If not Achilles? Though't be a sportful combat,
Yet in the trial much opinion dwells;

For here the Trojans taste our dear'st repute
With their fin'st palate: And trust to me,
Ulysses,

Our imputation shall be oddly pois'd
In this wild action: for the success,
Although particular, shall give a scantling t
Of good or bad into the general;

And in such indexes, although small pricks
To their subsequent volumes, there is seen
Troy,The baby figure of the giant mass

Hector, in view of Trojans and of Greeks,
Shall make it good, or do his best to do it
He hath a lady, wiser, fairer, truer,
Than ever Greek did compass in his arms;
And will to-morrow with his trumpet call,
Mid-way between your tents and walls of
To rouse a Grecian that is true in love:
If any come, Hector shall honour him;
If none, he'll say in Troy, when he retires,
The Grecian dames are sun-burn'd, and
worth

not

When Hector's grandsire suck'd; he is old now;
But if there be not in our Grecian host
One noble man, that hath one spark of fire
To answer for his love, tell hit from me,---
I'll hide my silver beard in a gold beaver.
And in my vantbrace+ put this wither'd brawn;
And meeting him, will tell him, That my lady
Was fairer than his grandame, and as chaste
As may be in the world: His youth in flood,
I'll prove this truth with my three drops
blood

Of things to come at large. It is suppos'd,
He, that meets Hector, issues from our choice:
And choice, being mutual, act of all our souls,
Makes merit her election; and doth boil,
As 'twere from forth us all, a man distill'd
Out of our virtues; Who miscarrying,

What heart receives from hence a conquering

part,

To steel a strong opinion to themselves?
Which entertain'd, limbs are his instruments,
In no less working, than are swords and bows
Directive by the limbs.

Ulyss. Give pardon to my speech ;-
Therefore 'tis meet, Achilles meet not Hector.
Let us, like merchants, show our foulest wares,
And think, perchance, they'll sell: if not,
The lustre of the better shall exceed,
By showing the worse first. Do not consent,
That ever Hector and Achilles meet;
For both our honour and our shame, in this,
Are dogg'd with two strange followers.

Nest. I see them not, with my old eyes; what
are they?

Ulyss. What glory our Achilles shares fromn

Hector,

Were he not proud, we all should share with hìm:
But he already is too insolent;

And we were better parch in Afric sun,

Ene. Now heavens forbid such scarcity youth!

Than in the pride and salt scorn of his eyes,
Should he 'scape Hector fair: If he were

Ulyss. Amen!

hand;

foil'd,

Agam Fair lord Æneas, let me touch your Why, then we did our main opinion crush

To our pavilion shall I lead you, Sir.
Achilles shall have word of this intent:

So shall each lord of Greece, from tent to tent:
Yourself shall feast with us before you go,
And find the welcome of a noble foe.

[Exeunt all but ULYSSES and NESTOR. Ulyss. Nestor,

Nest. What says Ulysses?

In taint of our best man. No, make a lottery,
And, by device, let blockish Ajax draw

The sort to fight with Hector: Among our
selves,

Give him allowance for the better man,
For that will physic the great Myrmidon,
Who broils in loud applause; and make him fil
His crest, that prouder than blue Iris bends.
If the dull brainless Ajax come safe off,

Ulyss. I have a young conception in my We'll dress him up in voices: If he fail,

To Agamemnon: go we to him straight.
Two curs shall tame each other; Pride alone
Must tarre the mastiff's on, as 'twere their bone.
[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I.-Another part of the Grecian

Camp.

Enter AJAX and THERSITES.

Ajax. Thersites,

Achil. So I do; What's the matter ?
Ther. Nay, but regard him well.
Achil. Well, why I do so.

Ther. But yet you look not well upon him: for whosoever you take him to be, he is Ajax. Achil. I know that, fool.

Ther. Ay, but that fool knows not himself.
Ajax. Therefore I beat thee.

Ther. Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters! his evasions have ears thus long. I have bobbed his brain, more than he has beat my bones: I will buy nine sparrows for a penny and his pia mater is not worth the ninth part of a sparrow. This lord, Achilles, Ajax,-who

Ther. Agamemnon-how if he had boils? full, wears his wit in his belly, and his guts in his all over, generally?

Ajax. Dog,

Ther. Then would come some matter from him; I see none now.

Ajax. Thou bitch-wolf's son, canst thou not hear? Feel then. [Strikes him. Ther. The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel beef-witted lord!

Ajax. Speak then, thou unsalted leaven! speak: I will beat thee into handsomeness.

Ther. I shall sooner rail thee into wit and holiness but I think thy horse will sooner con an oration, than thou learn a prayer without book. Thou canst strike, canst thou? a red murrain o' thy jade's tricks!

Ajax. Toads-stool, learn me the proclamation. Ther. Dost thou think I have no sense, thou strikest me thus ?

Ajax. The proclamation,

Ther. Thou art proclaimed a fool, I think. Ajax. Do not, porcupine, do not; my fingers itch.

Ther. I would thou didst itch from head to foot, and I had the scratching of thee; I would make thee the loathsomest scab in Greece. When thou art forth in the incursions, thou strikest as slow as another.

Ajax. I say, the proclamation,

Ther. Thou grumblest and railest every hour on Achilles; and thou art as full of envy at his greatness as Cerberus is at Proserpina's beauty; ay, that thou barkest at him.

Ajax. Mistress Thersites !

Ther. Thou shouldest strike him.
Ajax. Cobloaf! +

Ther. He would pun thee into shivers with
his fist, as a sailor breaks a biscuit.
Ajax. You whoreson cur!
Ther. Do, do.

[Beating him.

Ajax. Thou stool for a witch! Ther. Ay, do, do; thou sodden-witted lord! thou hast no more brain than I have in mine elbows; an assinego may tutor thee: Thou Scurvy valiant ass; thou art here put to thrash Trojans; and thou art bought and sold among those of any wit, like a Barbarian slave. If thou use to beat me, I will begin at thy heel, and tell what thou art by inches, thou thing of no bowels, thou!

Ajax. You dog!

Ther. You scurvy lord!
Ajax. You cur!

[Beating him. Ther. Mars his idiot, do! rudeness; do, camel; do, do.

Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS.

head,-I'll tell you what I say of him.

Achil. What?

Ther. I say this, Ajax-
Achil. Nay, good Ajax.

[AJAX offers to strike him, ACHILLES
interposes.

Ther. Has not so much wit-
Achil. Nay, I must hold you.

Ther. As will stop the eye of Helen's needle, for whom he comes to fight.

Achil. Peace, fool!

Ther. I would have peace and quietness, but the fool will not: he there; that he; look you there.

Ajax. O thou damned cur! I shall

Achil. Will you set your wit to a fool's? Ther. No, I warrant you; for a fool's will shame it.

Patr. Good words, Thersites.

Achil. What's the quarrel ?

Ajax. I bade the vile owl go learn me the tenour of the proclamation, and he rails upon me. Ther. I serve thee not.

Ajax. Well, go to, go to.

Ther. I serve here voluntary. +

Achil. Your last service was sufferance, 'twas not voluntary; no man is beaten voluntary ; Ajax was here the voluntary, and you as under an impress.

Ther. Even so ?-a great deal of your wit too lies in your sinews, or else there be liars. Hector shall have a great catch, it he knock out either of your brains; a' were as good crack a fusty nut with no kernel.

Achil. What with me too, Thersites ?

Ther. There's Ulysses, and old Nestor,-whose wit was mouldy ere your grandsires had nails on their toes,--yoke you like draught oxen, aud make you plough up the wafs.

Achil. What, what?

Ther. Yes, good sooth; To, Achilles ! Ajax ! to!

Ajax. I shall cut out your tongue.

Ther. 'Tis no matter; I shall speak as much as thou afterwards.

Patr. No more words, Thersites; peace. Ther. I will hold my peace when Achilles' brach † bids me, shall I?

Achil. There's for you, Patroclus.

Ther. I will see you hanged, like clotpoles,
ere I come any more to your tents; I will keep
where there is wit stirring, and leave the faction
of fools.
¡Exit.

Patr. A good riddance.
Achil. Marry, this, Sir, is proclaim'd through
all our host:

That Hector, by the first hour of the sun,
Will, with a trumpet, 'twixt our tents and Troy,
To-morrow morning call some knight to arms,
That hath a stomach; and such a one, that dare

Achil. Why, how now, Ajax ? wherefore do Maintain-I know not what; 'tis trash: Fare

you thus ?

How now, Thersites ? what's the matter, man?

Ther. You see him there, do you?
Achil. Ay; what's the matter?

Ther. Nay, look upon him.

• Provoke. 1 Pound.

well.
Ajar. Farewell. Who shall answer him?
Achil. I know not it is put to lottery; other-
He knew his man.
[wise,

Ajax. Oh! meaning you :-I'll go learn more
of it.
[Exeunt.

A crusty uneven loaf.
A cant term for a foolish fellow.
Continue.

↑ Voluntarily.

The membrane that protects the brain
1 Bitch.

Scene 11.

TROILUS AND CRESSIDA.

109

SCENE 11-Troy.-A Room in PRIAM'S

Palace.

Two traded pilots 'twixt the dangerous shores
Of will and judgment: How may I avoid,
Although my will distaste what it elected,

Enter PRIAM, HECTOR, TROILUS, PARIS, and The wife I chose? there can be no evasion

HELENUS.

Pri. After so many hours, lives, speeches
spent,

Thus once again says Nestor from the Greeks:
Deliver Helen, and all damage else-

To blench from this, and to stand firm by h

nour:

We turn not back the silks upon the merchant
When we have soil'd them; nor the remainder
viands

We do not throw in unrespective sieve, t

As honour, loss of time, travel, expence,
Wounds, friends, and what else dear that is Because we now are full. It was thought meet,

consum'd

In hot digestion of this cormorant war,Shall be struck off:-Hector, what say you to't?

Hect. Though no man lesser fears the Greeks
than 1,

As far as toucheth my particular, yet,
Dread Priam,

There is no lady of more softer bowels,
More spungy to suck in the sense of fear,

More ready to cry out-Who knows what fol-
lows?

Than Hector is: The wound of peace is surety,
Surety secure; but modest doubt is call'd
The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches
To the bottom of the worst. Let Heleu go:
Since the first sword was drawn about this
question,

Every tithe soul, 'mongst many thousand dismes,*
Hath been as dear as Helen: I mean, of ours:
If we have lost so many teuths of ours,
To guard a thing not ours; not worth to us,
Had it our name, the value of one ten;
What merits in that reason, which denies
The yielding of her up?

Tro. Fie, fie, my brother!

Weigh you the worth and honour of a king,

So great as our dread father, in a scale

Of common ounces? will you with counters sum
The past-proportion of his infinite?

And buckel-in a waist most fathomless,
With spans and inches so diminutive

As fears and reasons? fie, for godly shame!

Hel. No marvel, though you bite so sharp at
reasons,

You are so empty of them. Should not our
[sons,
father
Bear the great sway of his affairs with rea-
Because your speech hath none, that tells him so?
Tro. You are for dreams and slumbers, bro-
ther priest,

You fur your gloves with reason.

your reasons:

Here are

You know, an enemy intends you harm;
You know, a sword employ'd is perilous,
And reason flies the object of all harm :
Who marvels then, when Helenus beholds
A Grecian and his sword, if he do set
The very wings of reason to his heels;
And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove,
Or like a star disorb'd ?-Nay, if we talk of rea-
[honour
Let's shut our gates, and sleep: Manhood and
Should have hare hearts, would they but fat
their thoughts

son,

With this cramm'd reason: reason and respect +
Make livers pale, and lustihood deject.
Hect. Brother, she is not worth what she
doth cost

The holding.

Tro. What is aught, but as 'tis valued?
Hect. But value dwells not in particular will;
It holds his estimate and dignity
As well wherein 'tis precious of itself
As in the prizer: 'tis mad idolatry,
To make the service greater than the god;
And the will dotes, that is attributive
To what infectiously itself affects,
Without some image of the affected merit.
Tro. I take to-day a wife, and my election
Is led on in the conduct of my will;
My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears,
+ Caution.

• Tenths.

Paris should do some vengeance on the Greeks:
Your breath with full consent bellied his sails;
The seas and winds (old wranglers) took a truce,
And did bim service: he touch'd the ports de-
[captive,
sir'd;
And, for an old aunt whom the Greeks held
He brought a Grecian queen, whose Youth and
freshness

Wrinkles Apollo's, and makes pale the morning.
Why keep we her? the Grecians keep our aunt:
Is she worth keeping? why, she is a pearl
Whose price hath launch'd above a thousand
ships,

And turn'd crown'd kings to merchants.
If you'll avouch 'twas wisdom Paris went,
(As you must needs, for you all cried-Go, go,)
if you'll confess, he brought home noble prize,
(As you must needs, for you all clapp'd your
hands,

And cried-Inestimable!) why do you now
The issue of your proper wisdoms rate;
And do a deed that fortune never did,
Beggar the estimation which you priz'd
Richer than sea and laud? O theft most base;
That we have stolen what we do fear to keep!
But, thieves, unworthy of a thing so stolen,
That in their country did them that disgrace,
We fear to warrant in our native place!
Cas. [Within.] Cry, Trojans, cry!
Pri. What noise ? what shriek is this?
Tro. 'Tis our mad sister, I do know her
voice.

Cas. [Within.] Cry, Trojaus {
Hect. It is Cassandra.

Enter CASSANDRA, raving.

Cas. Cry, Trojans, cry! lend me ten thousand
eyes,

And I will fill them with prophetic tears.
Hect. Peace, sister, peace.

Cas. Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled
elders,

Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry,
Add to my clamours! let us pay betimes
A moiety of that mass of moan to come.
Cry, Trojans, cry! practise your eyes with tears!
Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand;
Our fire-brand brother, Paris, § burns us all.
Cry, Trojans, cry! a Helen, and a woe:
Cry, cry! Troy burns, or else let Helen go.

[Exit.

Hect. Now youthful Troilus, do not these high
strains

Of divination in our sister work
Some touches of remorse? or is your blood
So madly hot, that no discourse of reason,
Nor fear of bad success in a bad cause,
Can qualify the same!

Tro. Why, brother Hector,

We may not think the justness of each act
Such and no other than event doth form it
Nor once deject the courage of our minds,
Because Cassandra's mad: her brain-sick rap-

tures

Cannot distaste the goodness of a quarrel,
Which hath our several honours all engag'd
To make it gracious. ¶ For my private part,

I am no more touch'd than all Priam's sons:
And Jove forbid, there should be done amongst

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The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare, Nide 9