Speeches (Lines) for Ulysses in "Troilus and Cressida"

Total: 80
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# Act, Scene, Line Speech text
1 I, 3, 505
  • Agamemnon,
    Thou great commander, nerve and bone of Greece,
    Heart of our...
  • Agamemnon,
    Thou great commander, nerve and bone of Greece,
    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 To which,
    [To AGAMEMNON]
    most mighty for thy place and sway,
    [To NESTOR]
    And thou most reverend for thy stretch'd-out life
    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
    On which heaven rides, knit all the Greekish ears
    To his experienced tongue, yet let it please both,
    Thou great, and wise, to hear Ulysses speak.
  • Nestor. 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 nobler bulk!
    But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage
    The gentle 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-rivall'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 breeze
    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
    As roused with rage with rage doth sympathize,
    And with an accent tuned in selfsame key
    Retorts to chiding fortune.

    Ulysses. Agamemnon,
    Thou great commander, nerve and bone of Greece,
    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 To which,
    [To AGAMEMNON]
    most mighty for thy place and sway,
    [To NESTOR]
    And thou most reverend for thy stretch'd-out life
    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
    On which heaven rides, knit all the Greekish ears
    To his experienced tongue, yet let it please both,
    Thou great, and wise, to hear Ulysses speak.

2 I, 3, 528
  • Troy, yet upon his basis, had been down,
    And the great Hector's sword had la...
  • Troy, yet upon his basis, had been down,
    And the great Hector's sword had lack'd a master,
    But for these instances.
    The specialty of rule hath been neglected:
    And, look, how many Grecian tents do stand
    Hollow upon this plain, so many hollow factions.
    When that the general is not like the hive
    To whom the foragers shall all repair,
    What honey is expected? Degree being vizarded,
    The unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask.
    The heavens themselves, the planets and this centre
    Observe degree, priority and place,
    Insisture, course, proportion, season, form,
    Office and custom, in all line of order;
    And therefore is the glorious planet Sol
    In noble eminence enthroned and sphered
    Amidst the other; whose medicinable eye
    Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil,
    And posts, like the commandment of a king,
    Sans cheque 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, horrors,
    Divert and crack, rend and deracinate
    The unity and married calm of states
    Quite from their fixure! O, when degree is shaked,
    Which is the ladder to all high designs,
    Then enterprise is sick! How could communities,
    Degrees in schools and brotherhoods in cities,
    Peaceful commerce 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 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 wrong,
    Between whose endless jar justice resides,
    Should lose their names, and so should justice too.
    Then every thing includes itself in power,
    Power into will, will into appetite;
    And appetite, an universal wolf,
    So doubly seconded with will and power,
    Must make perforce an 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.
  • Agamemnon. Speak, prince of Ithaca; and be't of less expect
    That matter needless, of importless burden,
    Divide thy lips, than we are confident,
    When rank Thersites opes his mastic jaws,
    We shall hear music, wit and oracle.

    Ulysses. Troy, yet upon his basis, had been down,
    And the great Hector's sword had lack'd a master,
    But for these instances.
    The specialty of rule hath been neglected:
    And, look, how many Grecian tents do stand
    Hollow upon this plain, so many hollow factions.
    When that the general is not like the hive
    To whom the foragers shall all repair,
    What honey is expected? Degree being vizarded,
    The unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask.
    The heavens themselves, the planets and this centre
    Observe degree, priority and place,
    Insisture, course, proportion, season, form,
    Office and custom, in all line of order;
    And therefore is the glorious planet Sol
    In noble eminence enthroned and sphered
    Amidst the other; whose medicinable eye
    Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil,
    And posts, like the commandment of a king,
    Sans cheque 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, horrors,
    Divert and crack, rend and deracinate
    The unity and married calm of states
    Quite from their fixure! O, when degree is shaked,
    Which is the ladder to all high designs,
    Then enterprise is sick! How could communities,
    Degrees in schools and brotherhoods in cities,
    Peaceful commerce 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 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 wrong,
    Between whose endless jar justice resides,
    Should lose their names, and so should justice too.
    Then every thing includes itself in power,
    Power into will, will into appetite;
    And appetite, an universal wolf,
    So doubly seconded with will and power,
    Must make perforce an 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.

3 I, 3, 595
  • The great Achilles, whom opinion crowns
    The sinew and the forehand of our ho...
  • The great Achilles, whom opinion crowns
    The sinew and the forehand of our host,
    Having his ear full of his airy fame,
    Grows dainty of his worth, and in his tent
    Lies mocking our designs: with him Patroclus
    Upon a lazy bed the livelong day
    Breaks scurril jests;
    And with ridiculous and awkward action,
    Which, slanderer, he imitation calls,
    He pageants us. Sometime, great Agamemnon,
    Thy topless deputation he puts on,
    And, like a strutting player, whose conceit
    Lies in his hamstring, and doth think it rich
    To hear the wooden dialogue and sound
    'Twixt his stretch'd footing and the scaffoldage,--
    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 unsquared,
    Which, from the tongue of roaring Typhon dropp'd
    Would seem hyperboles. At this fusty stuff
    The large Achilles, on his press'd bed lolling,
    From his deep chest laughs out a loud applause;
    Cries 'Excellent! 'tis Agamemnon just.
    Now play me Nestor; hem, and stroke thy beard,
    As he being drest to some oration.'
    That's done, as near as the extremest ends
    Of parallels, as like as Vulcan and his wife:
    Yet god Achilles still cries 'Excellent!
    'Tis Nestor right. Now play him me, Patroclus,
    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, Patroclus;
    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.
  • Agamemnon. The nature of the sickness found, Ulysses,
    What is the remedy?

    Ulysses. The great Achilles, whom opinion crowns
    The sinew and the forehand of our host,
    Having his ear full of his airy fame,
    Grows dainty of his worth, and in his tent
    Lies mocking our designs: with him Patroclus
    Upon a lazy bed the livelong day
    Breaks scurril jests;
    And with ridiculous and awkward action,
    Which, slanderer, he imitation calls,
    He pageants us. Sometime, great Agamemnon,
    Thy topless deputation he puts on,
    And, like a strutting player, whose conceit
    Lies in his hamstring, and doth think it rich
    To hear the wooden dialogue and sound
    'Twixt his stretch'd footing and the scaffoldage,--
    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 unsquared,
    Which, from the tongue of roaring Typhon dropp'd
    Would seem hyperboles. At this fusty stuff
    The large Achilles, on his press'd bed lolling,
    From his deep chest laughs out a loud applause;
    Cries 'Excellent! 'tis Agamemnon just.
    Now play me Nestor; hem, and stroke thy beard,
    As he being drest to some oration.'
    That's done, as near as the extremest ends
    Of parallels, as like as Vulcan and his wife:
    Yet god Achilles still cries 'Excellent!
    'Tis Nestor right. Now play him me, Patroclus,
    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, Patroclus;
    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.

4 I, 3, 650
  • They tax our policy, and call it cowardice,
    Count wisdom as no member of the...
  • They tax our policy, and call it cowardice,
    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 calls them on, and know by measure
    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 rudeness of his poise,
    They place before his hand that made the engine,
    Or those that with the fineness of their souls
    By reason guide his execution.
  • Nestor. And in the imitation of these twain--
    Who, as Ulysses says, opinion crowns
    With an imperial voice--many are infect.
    Ajax is grown self-will'd, and bears his head
    In such a rein, 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.

    Ulysses. They tax our policy, and call it cowardice,
    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 calls them on, and know by measure
    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 rudeness of his poise,
    They place before his hand that made the engine,
    Or those that with the fineness of their souls
    By reason guide his execution.

5 I, 3, 764
  • Amen.
  • Amen.
  • Aeneas. Now heavens forbid such scarcity of youth!

    Ulysses. Amen.

6 I, 3, 772
  • Nestor!
  • Nestor!
  • (stage directions). [Exeunt all but ULYSSES and NESTOR]

    Ulysses. Nestor!

7 I, 3, 774
  • I have a young conception in my brain;
    Be you my time to bring it to some sh...
  • I have a young conception in my brain;
    Be you my time to bring it to some shape.
  • Nestor. What says Ulysses?

    Ulysses. I have a young conception in my brain;
    Be you my time to bring it to some shape.

8 I, 3, 777
  • This 'tis:
    Blunt wedges rive hard knots: the seeded pride
    That hath to t...
  • This 'tis:
    Blunt wedges rive hard knots: the seeded pride
    That hath to this maturity blown up
    In rank Achilles must or now be cropp'd,
    Or, shedding, breed a nursery of like evil,
    To overbulk us all.
  • Nestor. What is't?

    Ulysses. This 'tis:
    Blunt wedges rive hard knots: the seeded pride
    That hath to this maturity blown up
    In rank Achilles must or now be cropp'd,
    Or, shedding, breed a nursery of like evil,
    To overbulk us all.

9 I, 3, 784
  • This challenge that the gallant Hector sends,
    However it is spread in genera...
  • This challenge that the gallant Hector sends,
    However it is spread in general name,
    Relates in purpose only to Achilles.
  • Nestor. Well, and how?

    Ulysses. This challenge that the gallant Hector sends,
    However it is spread in general name,
    Relates in purpose only to Achilles.

10 I, 3, 795
  • And wake him to the answer, think you?
  • And wake him to the answer, think you?
  • Nestor. The purpose is perspicuous even as substance,
    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 great speed of judgment,
    Ay, with celerity, find Hector's purpose
    Pointing on him.

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

11 I, 3, 820
  • Give pardon to my speech:
    Therefore 'tis meet Achilles meet not Hector.
    ...
  • 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 yet to show,
    Shall show the better. 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.
  • Nestor. Yes, 'tis most meet: whom may you else oppose,
    That can from Hector bring his honour 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 finest palate: and trust to me, Ulysses,
    Our imputation shall be oddly poised
    In this wild action; for the success,
    Although particular, shall give a scantling
    Of good or bad unto the general;
    And in such indexes, although small pricks
    To their subsequent volumes, there is seen
    The baby figure of the giant mass
    Of things to come at large. It is supposed
    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 us all, a man distill'd
    Out of our virtues; who miscarrying,
    What heart receives from hence the 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.

    Ulysses. 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 yet to show,
    Shall show the better. 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.

12 I, 3, 830
  • What glory our Achilles shares from Hector,
    Were he not proud, we all should...
  • What glory our Achilles shares from Hector,
    Were he not proud, we all should share with him:
    But he already is too insolent;
    And we were better parch in Afric sun
    Than in the pride and salt scorn of his eyes,
    Should he 'scape Hector fair: if he were foil'd,
    Why then, we did our main opinion crush
    In taint of our best man. No, make a lottery;
    And, by device, let blockish Ajax draw
    The sort to fight with Hector: among ourselves
    Give him allowance for the better man;
    For that will physic the great Myrmidon
    Who broils in loud applause, and make him fall
    His crest that prouder than blue Iris bends.
    If the dull brainless Ajax come safe off,
    We'll dress him up in voices: if he fail,
    Yet go we under our opinion still
    That we have better men. But, hit or miss,
    Our project's life this shape of sense assumes:
    Ajax employ'd plucks down Achilles' plumes.
  • Nestor. I see them not with my old eyes: what are they?

    Ulysses. What glory our Achilles shares from Hector,
    Were he not proud, we all should share with him:
    But he already is too insolent;
    And we were better parch in Afric sun
    Than in the pride and salt scorn of his eyes,
    Should he 'scape Hector fair: if he were foil'd,
    Why then, we did our main opinion crush
    In taint of our best man. No, make a lottery;
    And, by device, let blockish Ajax draw
    The sort to fight with Hector: among ourselves
    Give him allowance for the better man;
    For that will physic the great Myrmidon
    Who broils in loud applause, and make him fall
    His crest that prouder than blue Iris bends.
    If the dull brainless Ajax come safe off,
    We'll dress him up in voices: if he fail,
    Yet go we under our opinion still
    That we have better men. But, hit or miss,
    Our project's life this shape of sense assumes:
    Ajax employ'd plucks down Achilles' plumes.

13 II, 3, 1301
  • We saw him at the opening of his tent:
    He is not sick.
  • We saw him at the opening of his tent:
    He is not sick.
  • (stage directions). [Exit]

    Ulysses. We saw him at the opening of his tent:
    He is not sick.

14 II, 3, 1309
  • Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him.
  • Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him.
  • Nestor. What moves Ajax thus to bay at him?

    Ulysses. Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him.

15 II, 3, 1311
  • He.
  • He.
  • Nestor. Who, Thersites?

    Ulysses. He.

16 II, 3, 1313
  • No, you see, he is his argument that has his
    argument, Achilles.
  • No, you see, he is his argument that has his
    argument, Achilles.
  • Nestor. Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost his argument.

    Ulysses. No, you see, he is his argument that has his
    argument, Achilles.

17 II, 3, 1318
  • The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily
    untie. Here comes Patroclu...
  • The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily
    untie. Here comes Patroclus.
  • Nestor. All the better; their fraction is more our wish than
    their faction: but it was a strong composure a fool
    could disunite.

    Ulysses. The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily
    untie. Here comes Patroclus.

18 II, 3, 1322
  • The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy:
    his legs are legs for neces...
  • The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy:
    his legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure.
  • Nestor. No Achilles with him.

    Ulysses. The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy:
    his legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure.

19 II, 3, 1383
  • Achilles will not to the field to-morrow.
  • Achilles will not to the field to-morrow.
  • (stage directions). [Re-enter ULYSSES]

    Ulysses. Achilles will not to the field to-morrow.

20 II, 3, 1385
  • He doth rely on none,
    But carries on the stream of his dispose
    Without o...
  • 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. 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.

21 II, 3, 1391
  • Things small as nothing, for request's sake only,
    He makes important: posses...
  • 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.
  • 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.

22 II, 3, 1404
  • O Agamemnon, let it not be so!
    We'll consecrate the steps that Ajax makes
  • 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.'
  • 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.'

23 II, 3, 1430
  • Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.
  • Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.
  • 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.

24 II, 3, 1434
  • The raven chides blackness.
  • The raven chides blackness.
  • Ajax. Can he not be sociable?

    Ulysses. The raven chides blackness.

25 II, 3, 1438
  • Wit would be out of fashion.
  • Wit would be out of fashion.
  • Ajax. An all men were o' my mind,--

    Ulysses. Wit would be out of fashion.

26 II, 3, 1442
  • A' would have ten shares.
  • A' would have ten shares.
  • Nestor. An 'twould, you'ld carry half.

    Ulysses. A' would have ten shares.

27 II, 3, 1446
  • [To AGAMEMNON] My lord, you feed too much on this dislike.
  • [To AGAMEMNON] My lord, you feed too much on this dislike.
  • 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.

28 II, 3, 1449
  • Why, 'tis this naming of him does him harm.
    Here is a man--but 'tis before h...
  • Why, 'tis this naming of him does him harm.
    Here is a man--but 'tis before his face;
    I will be silent.
  • 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.

29 II, 3, 1454
  • Know the whole world, he is as valiant.
  • Know the whole world, he is as valiant.
  • Nestor. Wherefore should you so?
    He is not emulous, as Achilles is.

    Ulysses. Know the whole world, he is as valiant.

30 II, 3, 1458
  • If he were proud,--
  • If he were proud,--
  • Nestor. What a vice were it in Ajax now,--

    Ulysses. If he were proud,--

31 II, 3, 1460
  • Ay, or surly borne,--
  • Ay, or surly borne,--
  • Diomedes. Or covetous of praise,--

    Ulysses. Ay, or surly borne,--

32 II, 3, 1462
  • Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet composure;
    Praise him that got th...
  • 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.
  • 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.

33 II, 3, 1482
  • There is no tarrying here; the hart Achilles
    Keeps thicket. Please it our gr...
  • 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.
  • 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.

34 III, 3, 1906
  • Achilles stands i' the entrance of his tent:
    Please it our general to pass s...
  • Achilles stands i' the 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 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 be good: pride hath no other glass
    To show itself but pride, for supple knees
    Feed arrogance and are the proud man's fees.
  • (stage directions). [Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS, before their tent]

    Ulysses. Achilles stands i' the 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 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 be good: pride hath no other glass
    To show itself but pride, for supple knees
    Feed arrogance and are the proud man's fees.

35 III, 3, 1967
  • Now, great Thetis' son!
  • Now, great Thetis' son!
  • 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 honour for those honours
    That are without him, as place, riches, 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,
    Do 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!

36 III, 3, 1969
  • A strange fellow here
    Writes me: 'That man, how dearly ever parted,
    How...
  • 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. 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.'

37 III, 3, 1987
  • I do not strain at the position,--
    It is familiar,--but at the author's drif...
  • 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 any thing,
    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 form'd in the applause
    Where they're extended; who, like an arch,
    reverberates
    The voice again, or, like a gate of steel
    Fronting the sun, receives and renders back
    His figure and his heat. I was much wrapt 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 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 shrieking.
  • 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 any thing,
    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 form'd in the applause
    Where they're extended; who, like an arch,
    reverberates
    The voice again, or, like a gate of steel
    Fronting the sun, receives and renders back
    His figure and his heat. I was much wrapt 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 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 shrieking.

38 III, 3, 2021
  • Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back,
    Wherein he puts alms for oblivion,...
  • 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 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 mockery. 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 enter'd tide, they all rush by
    And leave you hindmost;
    Or like a gallant horse fall'n in first rank,
    Lie there for pavement to the abject rear,
    O'er-run 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 the hand,
    And with his arms outstretch'd, as he would fly,
    Grasps in the comer: 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 gawds,
    Though they are made and moulded of things past,
    And give to dust that is a little gilt
    More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.
    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. 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-sized 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 mockery. 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 enter'd tide, they all rush by
    And leave you hindmost;
    Or like a gallant horse fall'n in first rank,
    Lie there for pavement to the abject rear,
    O'er-run 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 the hand,
    And with his arms outstretch'd, as he would fly,
    Grasps in the comer: 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 gawds,
    Though they are made and moulded of things past,
    And give to dust that is a little gilt
    More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.
    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.

39 III, 3, 2070
  • But 'gainst your privacy
    The reasons are more potent and heroical:
    'Tis...
  • 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. 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.

40 III, 3, 2075
  • Is that a wonder?
    The providence that's in a watchful state
    Knows almost...
  • Is that a wonder?
    The providence that's in a watchful state
    Knows almost every grain of Plutus' gold,
    Finds bottom in the uncomprehensive deeps,
    Keeps place with thought and almost, like the gods,
    Does 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.
  • Achilles. Ha! known!

    Ulysses. Is that a wonder?
    The providence that's in a watchful state
    Knows almost every grain of Plutus' gold,
    Finds bottom in the uncomprehensive deeps,
    Keeps place with thought and almost, like the gods,
    Does 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.

41 IV, 5, 2608
  • No trumpet answers.
  • No trumpet answers.
  • (stage directions). [Trumpet sounds]

    Ulysses. No trumpet answers.

42 IV, 5, 2611
  • 'Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait;
    He rises on the toe: that spirit of h...
  • 'Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait;
    He rises on the toe: that spirit of his
    In aspiration lifts him from the earth.
  • Agamemnon. Is not yond Diomed, with Calchas' daughter?

    Ulysses. 'Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait;
    He rises on the toe: that spirit of his
    In aspiration lifts him from the earth.

43 IV, 5, 2619
  • Yet is the kindness but particular;
    'Twere better she were kiss'd in general...
  • Yet is the kindness but particular;
    'Twere better she were kiss'd in general.
  • Nestor. Our general doth salute you with a kiss.

    Ulysses. Yet is the kindness but particular;
    'Twere better she were kiss'd in general.

44 IV, 5, 2629
  • O deadly gall, and theme of all our scorns!
    For which we lose our heads to g...
  • O deadly gall, and theme of all our scorns!
    For which we lose our heads to gild his horns.
  • Patroclus. But that's no argument for kissing now;
    For this popp'd Paris in his hardiment,
    And parted thus you and your argument.

    Ulysses. O deadly gall, and theme of all our scorns!
    For which we lose our heads to gild his horns.

45 IV, 5, 2648
  • It were no match, your nail against his horn.
    May I, sweet lady, beg a kiss...
  • It were no match, your nail against his horn.
    May I, sweet lady, beg a kiss of you?
  • Cressida. No, I'll be sworn.

    Ulysses. It were no match, your nail against his horn.
    May I, sweet lady, beg a kiss of you?

46 IV, 5, 2651
  • I do desire it.
  • I do desire it.
  • Cressida. You may.

    Ulysses. I do desire it.

47 IV, 5, 2653
  • Why then for Venus' sake, give me a kiss,
    When Helen is a maid again, and hi...
  • Why then for Venus' sake, give me a kiss,
    When Helen is a maid again, and his.
  • Cressida. Why, beg, then.

    Ulysses. Why then for Venus' sake, give me a kiss,
    When Helen is a maid again, and his.

48 IV, 5, 2656
  • Never's my day, and then a kiss of you.
  • Never's my day, and then a kiss of you.
  • Cressida. I am your debtor, claim it when 'tis due.

    Ulysses. Never's my day, and then a kiss of you.

49 IV, 5, 2660
  • Fie, fie upon her!
    There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip,
    Nay,...
  • Fie, fie upon her!
    There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip,
    Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out
    At every joint and motive of her body.
    O, these encounterers, so glib of tongue,
    That give accosting welcome ere it comes,
    And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts
    To every ticklish reader! set them down
    For sluttish spoils of opportunity
    And daughters of the game.
  • Nestor. A woman of quick sense.

    Ulysses. Fie, fie upon her!
    There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip,
    Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out
    At every joint and motive of her body.
    O, these encounterers, so glib of tongue,
    That give accosting welcome ere it comes,
    And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts
    To every ticklish reader! set them down
    For sluttish spoils of opportunity
    And daughters of the game.

50 IV, 5, 2709
  • They are opposed already.
  • They are opposed already.
  • (stage directions). [AJAX and HECTOR enter the lists]

    Ulysses. They are opposed already.

51 IV, 5, 2711
  • The youngest son of Priam, a true knight,
    Not yet mature, yet matchless, fir...
  • The youngest son of Priam, a true knight,
    Not yet mature, yet matchless, firm of word,
    Speaking in deeds and deedless in his tongue;
    Not soon provoked nor being provoked soon calm'd:
    His heart and hand both open and both free;
    For what he has he gives, what thinks he shows;
    Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty,
    Nor dignifies an impure thought with breath;
    Manly as Hector, but more dangerous;
    For Hector in his blaze of wrath subscribes
    To tender objects, but he in heat of action
    Is more vindicative than jealous love:
    They call him Troilus, and on him erect
    A second hope, as fairly built as Hector.
    Thus says AEneas; one that knows the youth
    Even to his inches, and with private soul
    Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me.
  • Agamemnon. What Trojan is that same that looks so heavy?

    Ulysses. The youngest son of Priam, a true knight,
    Not yet mature, yet matchless, firm of word,
    Speaking in deeds and deedless in his tongue;
    Not soon provoked nor being provoked soon calm'd:
    His heart and hand both open and both free;
    For what he has he gives, what thinks he shows;
    Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty,
    Nor dignifies an impure thought with breath;
    Manly as Hector, but more dangerous;
    For Hector in his blaze of wrath subscribes
    To tender objects, but he in heat of action
    Is more vindicative than jealous love:
    They call him Troilus, and on him erect
    A second hope, as fairly built as Hector.
    Thus says AEneas; one that knows the youth
    Even to his inches, and with private soul
    Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me.

52 IV, 5, 2835
  • I wonder now how yonder city stands
    When we have here her base and pillar by...
  • I wonder now how yonder city stands
    When we have here her base and pillar by us.
  • Nestor. Ha!
    By this white beard, I'ld fight with thee to-morrow.
    Well, welcome, welcome! I have seen the time.

    Ulysses. I wonder now how yonder city stands
    When we have here her base and pillar by us.

53 IV, 5, 2841
  • Sir, I foretold you then what would ensue:
    My prophecy is but half his journ...
  • Sir, I foretold you then what would ensue:
    My prophecy is but half his journey yet;
    For yonder walls, that pertly front your town,
    Yond towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds,
    Must kiss their own feet.
  • Hector. I know your favour, Lord Ulysses, well.
    Ah, sir, there's many a Greek and Trojan dead,
    Since first I saw yourself and Diomed
    In Ilion, on your Greekish embassy.

    Ulysses. Sir, I foretold you then what would ensue:
    My prophecy is but half his journey yet;
    For yonder walls, that pertly front your town,
    Yond towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds,
    Must kiss their own feet.

54 IV, 5, 2852
  • So to him we leave it.
    Most gentle and most valiant Hector, welcome:
    Aft...
  • So to him we leave it.
    Most gentle and most valiant Hector, welcome:
    After the general, I beseech you next
    To feast with me and see me at my tent.
  • Hector. I must not believe you:
    There they stand yet, and modestly I think,
    The fall of every Phrygian stone will cost
    A drop of Grecian blood: the end crowns all,
    And that old common arbitrator, Time,
    Will one day end it.

    Ulysses. So to him we leave it.
    Most gentle and most valiant Hector, welcome:
    After the general, I beseech you next
    To feast with me and see me at my tent.

55 IV, 5, 2912
  • At Menelaus' tent, most princely Troilus:
    There Diomed doth feast with him t...
  • At Menelaus' tent, most princely Troilus:
    There Diomed doth feast with him to-night;
    Who neither looks upon the heaven nor earth,
    But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view
    On the fair Cressid.
  • Troilus. My Lord Ulysses, tell me, I beseech you,
    In what place of the field doth Calchas keep?

    Ulysses. At Menelaus' tent, most princely Troilus:
    There Diomed doth feast with him to-night;
    Who neither looks upon the heaven nor earth,
    But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view
    On the fair Cressid.

56 IV, 5, 2920
  • You shall command me, sir.
    As gentle tell me, of what honour was
    This Cr...
  • You shall command me, sir.
    As gentle tell me, of what honour was
    This Cressida in Troy? Had she no lover there
    That wails her absence?
  • Troilus. Shall sweet lord, be bound to you so much,
    After we part from Agamemnon's tent,
    To bring me thither?

    Ulysses. You shall command me, sir.
    As gentle tell me, of what honour was
    This Cressida in Troy? Had she no lover there
    That wails her absence?

57 V, 1, 3006
  • Here comes himself to guide you.
  • Here comes himself to guide you.
  • Ajax. No, not a whit.

    Ulysses. Here comes himself to guide you.

58 V, 1, 3025
  • [Aside to TROILUS] Follow his torch; he goes to
    Calchas' tent:
    I'll keep...
  • [Aside to TROILUS] Follow his torch; he goes to
    Calchas' tent:
    I'll keep you company.
  • Hector. Give me your hand.

    Ulysses. [Aside to TROILUS] Follow his torch; he goes to
    Calchas' tent:
    I'll keep you company.

59 V, 2, 3052
  • Stand where the torch may not discover us.
  • Stand where the torch may not discover us.
  • Calchas. [Within] She comes to you.
    [Enter TROILUS and ULYSSES, at a distance;]
    after them, THERSITES]

    Ulysses. Stand where the torch may not discover us.

60 V, 2, 3059
  • She will sing any man at first sight.
  • She will sing any man at first sight.
  • Troilus. Yea, so familiar!

    Ulysses. She will sing any man at first sight.

61 V, 2, 3067
  • List.
  • List.
  • Troilus. What should she remember?

    Ulysses. List.

62 V, 2, 3080
  • How now, Trojan!
  • How now, Trojan!
  • Troilus. Hold, patience!

    Ulysses. How now, Trojan!

63 V, 2, 3086
  • You are moved, prince; let us depart, I pray you,
    Lest your displeasure shou...
  • You are moved, prince; let us depart, I pray you,
    Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself
    To wrathful terms: this place is dangerous;
    The time right deadly; I beseech you, go.
  • Troilus. O plague and madness!

    Ulysses. You are moved, prince; let us depart, I pray you,
    Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself
    To wrathful terms: this place is dangerous;
    The time right deadly; I beseech you, go.

64 V, 2, 3091
  • Nay, good my lord, go off:
    You flow to great distraction; come, my lord.
  • Nay, good my lord, go off:
    You flow to great distraction; come, my lord.
  • Troilus. Behold, I pray you!

    Ulysses. Nay, good my lord, go off:
    You flow to great distraction; come, my lord.

65 V, 2, 3094
  • You have not patience; come.
  • You have not patience; come.
  • Troilus. I pray thee, stay.

    Ulysses. You have not patience; come.

66 V, 2, 3101
  • Why, how now, lord!
  • Why, how now, lord!
  • Troilus. Doth that grieve thee?
    O wither'd truth!

    Ulysses. Why, how now, lord!

67 V, 2, 3107
  • You shake, my lord, at something: will you go?
    You will break out.
  • You shake, my lord, at something: will you go?
    You will break out.
  • Cressida. In faith, I do not: come hither once again.

    Ulysses. You shake, my lord, at something: will you go?
    You will break out.

68 V, 2, 3110
  • Come, come.
  • Come, come.
  • Troilus. She strokes his cheek!

    Ulysses. Come, come.

69 V, 2, 3121
  • You have sworn patience.
  • You have sworn patience.
  • (stage directions). [Exit]

    Ulysses. You have sworn patience.

70 V, 2, 3129
  • My lord,--
  • My lord,--
  • Troilus. O beauty! where is thy faith?

    Ulysses. My lord,--

71 V, 2, 3185
  • All's done, my lord.
  • All's done, my lord.
  • Thersites. A proof of strength she could not publish more,
    Unless she said ' My mind is now turn'd whore.'

    Ulysses. All's done, my lord.

72 V, 2, 3187
  • Why stay we, then?
  • Why stay we, then?
  • Troilus. It is.

    Ulysses. Why stay we, then?

73 V, 2, 3198
  • I cannot conjure, Trojan.
  • I cannot conjure, Trojan.
  • Troilus. To make a recordation to my soul
    Of every syllable that here was spoke.
    But if I tell how these two did co-act,
    Shall I not lie in publishing a truth?
    Sith yet there is a credence in my heart,
    An esperance so obstinately strong,
    That doth invert the attest of eyes and ears,
    As if those organs had deceptious functions,
    Created only to calumniate.
    Was Cressid here?

    Ulysses. I cannot conjure, Trojan.

74 V, 2, 3200
  • Most sure she was.
  • Most sure she was.
  • Troilus. She was not, sure.

    Ulysses. Most sure she was.

75 V, 2, 3202
  • Nor mine, my lord: Cressid was here but now.
  • Nor mine, my lord: Cressid was here but now.
  • Troilus. Why, my negation hath no taste of madness.

    Ulysses. Nor mine, my lord: Cressid was here but now.

76 V, 2, 3208
  • What hath she done, prince, that can soil our mothers?
  • What hath she done, prince, that can soil our mothers?
  • Troilus. Let it not be believed for womanhood!
    Think, we had mothers; do not give advantage
    To stubborn critics, apt, without a theme,
    For depravation, to square the general sex
    By Cressid's rule: rather think this not Cressid.

    Ulysses. What hath she done, prince, that can soil our mothers?

77 V, 2, 3235
  • May worthy Troilus be half attach'd
    With that which here his passion doth ex...
  • May worthy Troilus be half attach'd
    With that which here his passion doth express?
  • Troilus. This she? no, this is Diomed's Cressida:
    If beauty have a soul, this is not she;
    If souls guide vows, if vows be sanctimonies,
    If sanctimony be the gods' delight,
    If there be rule in unity itself,
    This is not she. O madness of discourse,
    That cause sets up with and against itself!
    Bi-fold authority! where reason can revolt
    Without perdition, and loss assume all reason
    Without revolt: this is, and is not, Cressid.
    Within my soul there doth conduce a fight
    Of this strange nature that a thing inseparate
    Divides more wider than the sky and earth,
    And yet the spacious breadth of this division
    Admits no orifex for a point as subtle
    As Ariachne's broken woof to enter.
    Instance, O instance! strong as Pluto's gates;
    Cressid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven:
    Instance, O instance! strong as heaven itself;
    The bonds of heaven are slipp'd, dissolved, and loosed;
    And with another knot, five-finger-tied,
    The fractions of her faith, orts of her love,
    The fragments, scraps, the bits and greasy relics
    Of her o'er-eaten faith, are bound to Diomed.

    Ulysses. May worthy Troilus be half attach'd
    With that which here his passion doth express?

78 V, 2, 3255
  • O, contain yourself
    Your passion draws ears hither.
  • O, contain yourself
    Your passion draws ears hither.
  • Troilus. O Cressid! O false Cressid! false, false, false!
    Let all untruths stand by thy stained name,
    And they'll seem glorious.

    Ulysses. O, contain yourself
    Your passion draws ears hither.

79 V, 2, 3264
  • I'll bring you to the gates.
  • I'll bring you to the gates.
  • Troilus. Have with you, prince. My courteous lord, adieu.
    Farewell, revolted fair! and, Diomed,
    Stand fast, and wear a castle on thy head!

    Ulysses. I'll bring you to the gates.

80 V, 5, 3487
  • O, courage, courage, princes! great Achilles
    Is arming, weeping, cursing, vo...
  • O, courage, courage, princes! great Achilles
    Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance:
    Patroclus' wounds have roused his drowsy blood,
    Together with his mangled Myrmidons,
    That noseless, handless, hack'd and chipp'd, come to him,
    Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend
    And foams at mouth, and he is arm'd and at it,
    Roaring for Troilus, who hath done to-day
    Mad and fantastic execution,
    Engaging and redeeming of himself
    With such a careless force and forceless care
    As if that luck, in very spite of cunning,
    Bade him win all.
  • (stage directions). [Enter ULYSSES]

    Ulysses. O, courage, courage, princes! great Achilles
    Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance:
    Patroclus' wounds have roused his drowsy blood,
    Together with his mangled Myrmidons,
    That noseless, handless, hack'd and chipp'd, come to him,
    Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend
    And foams at mouth, and he is arm'd and at it,
    Roaring for Troilus, who hath done to-day
    Mad and fantastic execution,
    Engaging and redeeming of himself
    With such a careless force and forceless care
    As if that luck, in very spite of cunning,
    Bade him win all.

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