书城公版Troiles and Cressida
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第13章 Exeunt SCENE III. The Grecian camp.(2)

Much attribute he hath, and much the reason Why we ascribe it to him; yet all his virtues, Not virtuously on his own part beheld, Do in our eyes begin to lose their gloss, Yea, like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish, Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell him, We come to speak with him; and you shall not sin, If you do say we think him over-proud And under-honest, in self-assumption greater Than in the note of judgment; and worthier than himself Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on, Disguise the holy strength of their command, And underwrite in an observing kind His humorous predominance; yea, watch His pettish lunes, his ebbs, his flows, as if The passage and whole carriage of this action Rode on his tide. Go tell him this, and add, That if he overhold his price so much, We'll none of him; but let him, like an engine Not portable, lie under this report:

'Bring action hither, this cannot go to war:

A stirring dwarf we do allowance give Before a sleeping giant.' Tell him so. PATROCLUS I shall; and bring his answer presently.

Exit AGAMEMNON In second voice we'll not be satisfied;

We come to speak with him. Ulysses, enter you.

Exit ULYSSES 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 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 wise, no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether more tractable. AJAX Why should a man be proud? How doth pride grow? I know not what pride is. AGAMEMNON Your mind is the clearer, Ajax, and your virtues the fairer. He that is proud eats up himself: pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle; and whatever praises itself but in the deed, devours 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?

Aside Re-enter ULYSSES ULYSSES Achilles will not to the field to-morrow. AGAMEMNON What's his excuse? ULYSSES He doth rely on none, But carries on the stream of his dispose Without observance or respect of any, In will peculiar and in self-admission. AGAMEMNON Why will he not upon our fair request Untent his person and share the air with us? ULYSSES Things small as nothing, for request's sake only, He makes important: possess'd he is with greatness, And speaks not to himself but with a pride That quarrels at self-breath: imagined worth Holds in his blood such swoln and hot discourse That 'twixt his mental and his active parts Kingdom'd Achilles in commotion rages And batters down himself: what should I say?

He is so plaguy proud that the death-tokens of it Cry 'No recovery.' AGAMEMNON Let Ajax go to him.

Dear lord, go you and greet him in his tent:

'Tis said he holds you well, and will be led At your request a little from himself. ULYSSES O Agamemnon, let it not be so!

We'll consecrate the steps that Ajax makes When they go from Achilles: shall the proud lord That bastes his arrogance with his own seam And never suffers matter of the world Enter his thoughts, save such as do revolve And ruminate himself, shall he be worshipp'd Of that we hold an idol more than he?

No, this thrice worthy and right valiant lord Must not so stale his palm, nobly acquired;

Nor, by my will, assubjugate his merit, As amply titled as Achilles is, By going to Achilles:

That were to enlard his fat already pride And add more coals to Cancer when he burns With entertaining great Hyperion.

This lord go to him! Jupiter forbid, And say in thunder 'Achilles go to him.' NESTOR [Aside to DIOMEDES] O, this is well; he rubs the vein of him. DIOMEDES [Aside to NESTOR] And how his silence drinks up 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:

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: 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: 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.

Here is a man--but 'tis before his face;

I will be silent. NESTOR Wherefore should you so?

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!

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;

Praise him that got thee, she that gave thee suck:

Famed be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature Thrice famed, beyond all erudition:

But he that disciplined thy arms to fight, Let Mars divide eternity in twain, And give him half: and, for thy vigour, Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom, Which, like a bourn, a pale, a shore, confines Thy spacious and dilated parts: here's Nestor;

Instructed by the antiquary times, He must, he is, he cannot but be wise:

Put pardon, father Nestor, were your days As green as Ajax' and your brain so temper'd, You should not have the eminence of him, 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 Keeps thicket. Please it our great general To call together all his state of war;

Fresh kings are come to Troy: to-morrow We must with all our main of power stand fast:

And here's a lord,--come knights from east to west, And cull their flower, Ajax shall cope the best. AGAMEMNON Go we to council. Let Achilles sleep:

Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw deep.