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As sun to day, as turtle to her mate,
As iron to adamant, as earth to th' centre-

Yet, after all comparisons of truth,
As truth's authentic author to be cited,

'As true as Troilus' shall crown up the verse
And sanctify the numbers.

CRESSIDA. Prophet may you be!
If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth,

When time is old and hath forgot itself,
When waterdrops have worn the stones of Troy,

And blind oblivion swallow'd cities up,
And mighty states characterless are grated

To dusty nothing-yet let memory
From false to false, among false maids in love,

Upbraid my falsehood when th' have said 'As false
As air, as water, wind, or sandy earth,

As fox to lamb, or wolf to heifer's calf,
Pard to the hind, or stepdame to her son'-

Yea, let them say, to stick the heart of falsehood,
'As false as Cressid.'

PANDARUS. Go to, a bargain made; seal it, seal it; I'll be the
witness. Here I hold your hand; here my cousin's. If ever you

prove false one to another, since I have taken such pains to
bring you together, let all pitiful goers- between be call'd to

the world's end after my name-call them all Pandars; let all
constant men be Troiluses, all false women Cressids, and all

brokers between Pandars. Say 'Amen.'
TROILUS. Amen.

CRESSIDA. Amen.
PANDARUS. Amen. Whereupon I will show you a chamber

and a bed; which bed, because it shall not speak of your
pretty encounters, press it to death. Away!

And Cupid grant all tongue-tied maidens here,
Bed, chamber, pander, to provide this gear! Exeunt

ACT III. SCENE 3.
The Greek camp

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

CALCHAS. Now, Princes, for the service I have done,
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 abandon'd Troy, left my possession,
Incurr'd a traitor's name, expos'd myself

From certain and possess'd 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 regist'red in promise,
Which you say live to come in my behalf.

AGAMEMNON. What wouldst thou of us, Troyan? Make demand.
CALCHAS. You have a Troyan prisoner call'd Antenor,

Yesterday took; Troy holds him very dear.
Oft have you-often have you thanks therefore-

Desir'd 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 to-morrow
Be answer'd 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
ACHILLES and PATROCLUS stand in their tent

ULYSSES. Achilles stands i' th' entrance of his tent.
Please it our general 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 turn'd on him?

If so, I have derision med'cinable
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 look'd 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 us'd to bend,
To send their smiles before them to Achilles,

To come as humbly as they us'd 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 declin'd 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 honour 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 lean'd 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 travell'd, and is mirror'd 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 formed in th' applause
Where th' are 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

Th' 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 to-morrow-

An act that very chance doth throw upon him-
Ajax renown'd. 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 pass'd 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-siz'd monster of ingratitudes.
Those scraps are good deeds past, which are devour'd

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,


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