TROILUS & CRESSIDA. William Shakespeare

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       With all my force, pursuit, and policy.

       AENEAS.

       And thou shalt hunt a lion, that will fly

       With his face backward. In humane gentleness,

       Welcome to Troy! now, by Anchises’ life,

       Welcome indeed! By Venus’ hand I swear

       No man alive can love in such a sort

       The thing he means to kill, more excellently.

       DIOMEDES.

       We sympathise. Jove let Aeneas live,

       If to my sword his fate be not the glory,

       A thousand complete courses of the sun!

       But in mine emulous honour let him die

       With every joint a wound, and that tomorrow!

       AENEAS.

       We know each other well.

       DIOMEDES.

       We do; and long to know each other worse.

       PARIS.

       This is the most despiteful’st gentle greeting

       The noblest hateful love, that e’er I heard of.

       What business, lord, so early?

       AENEAS.

       I was sent for to the King; but why, I know not.

       PARIS.

       His purpose meets you: ‘twas to bring this Greek

       To Calchas’ house, and there to render him,

       For the enfreed Antenor, the fair Cressid.

       Let’s have your company; or, if you please,

       Haste there before us. I constantly believe—

       Or rather call my thought a certain knowledge—

       My brother Troilus lodges there tonight.

       Rouse him and give him note of our approach,

       With the whole quality wherefore; I fear

       We shall be much unwelcome.

       AENEAS.

       That I assure you:

       Troilus had rather Troy were borne to Greece

       Than Cressid borne from Troy.

       PARIS.

       There is no help;

       The bitter disposition of the time

       Will have it so. On, lord; we’ll follow you.

       AENEAS.

       Good morrow, all.

       [Exit with servant.]

       PARIS.

       And tell me, noble Diomed-faith, tell me true,

       Even in the soul of sound good-fellowship—

       Who in your thoughts deserves fair Helen best,

       Myself or Menelaus?

       DIOMEDES.

       Both alike:

       He merits well to have her that doth seek her,

       Not making any scruple of her soilure,

       With such a hell of pain and world of charge;

       And you as well to keep her that d

       Not palating the taste of her dishonour,

       With such a costly loss of wealth and friends.

       He like a puling cuckold would drink up

       The lees and dregs of a flat tamed piece;

       You, like a lecher, out of whorish loins

       Are pleas’d to breed out your inheritors.

       Both merits pois’d, each weighs nor less nor more;

       But he as he, the heavier for a whore.

       PARIS.

       You are too bitter to your countrywoman.

       DIOMEDES.

       She’s bitter to her country. Hear me, Paris:

       For every false drop in her bawdy veins

       A Grecian’s life hath sunk; for every scruple

       Of her contaminated carrion weight

       A Troyan hath been slain; since she could speak,

       She hath not given so many good words breath

       As for her Greeks and Troyans suff’red death.

       PARIS.

       Fair Diomed, you do as chapmen do,

       Dispraise the thing that you desire to buy;

       But we in silence hold this virtue well:

       We’ll not commend what we intend to sell.

       Here lies our way.

       [Exeunt.]

      SCENE 2. Troy. The court of PANDARUS’ house

       [Enter TROILUS and CRESSIDA.]

       TROILUS.

       Dear, trouble not yourself; the morn is cold.

       CRESSIDA.

       Then, sweet my lord, I’ll call mine uncle down;

       He shall unbolt the gates.

       TROILUS.

       Trouble him not;

       To bed, to bed! Sleep kill those pretty eyes,

       And give as soft attachment to thy senses

       As infants’ empty of all thought!

       CRESSIDA.

       Good morrow, then.

       TROILUS.

       I prithee now, to bed.

       CRESSIDA.

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