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;
But 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 rul’d 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. Tomorrow
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.
[Exeunt.]
German
ACT III
SCENE I
Troy. PRIAM’S palace
[Music sounds within. Enter PANDARUS and a SERVANT.]
PANDARUS.
Friend, you—pray you, a word. Do you not follow the young
Lord Paris?
SERVANT.
Ay, sir, when he goes before me.
PANDARUS.
You depend upon him, I mean?
SERVANT.
Sir, I do depend upon the lord.
PANDARUS.
You depend upon a notable gentleman; I must needs praise him.
SERVANT.
The lord be praised!
PANDARUS.
You know me, do you not?
SERVANT.
Faith, sir, superficially.
PANDARUS.
Friend, know me better: I am the Lord Pandarus.
SERVANT.
I hope I shall know your honour better.
PANDARUS.
I do desire it.
SERVANT.
You are in the state of grace.
PANDARUS.
Grace! Not so, friend; honour and lordship are my titles.
What music is this?
SERVANT.
I do but partly know, sir; it is music in parts.
PANDARUS.
Know you the musicians?
SERVANT.
Wholly, sir.
PANDARUS.
Who play they to?
SERVANT.
To the hearers, sir.
PANDARUS.
At whose pleasure, friend?
SERVANT.
At mine, sir, and theirs that love music.
PANDARUS.
Command, I mean, friend.
SERVANT.
Who shall I command, sir?
PANDARUS.
Friend, we understand not one another: I am too courtly, and thou art too cunning. At whose request do these men play?
SERVANT.
That’s to’t, indeed, sir. Marry, sir, at the request of
Paris my lord, who is there in person; with him the mortal Venus,
the heart-blood of beauty, love’s invisible soul—
PANDARUS.
Who, my cousin, Cressida?
SERVANT.
No, sir, Helen. Could not you find out that by her attributes?
PANDARUS.
It should seem, fellow, that thou hast not seen the Lady Cressida. I come to speak with Paris from the Prince Troilus; I will make a complimental assault upon him, for my business seethes.
SERVANT.
Sodden business! There’s a stew’d phrase indeed!
[Enter PARIS and HELEN, attended.]
PANDARUS.
Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair company!
Fair desires, in all fair measure, fairly guide them—especially
to you, fair queen! Fair thoughts be your fair pillow.
HELEN.
Dear lord, you are full of fair words.
PANDARUS.
You speak your fair pleasure, sweet queen. Fair prince, here is good broken music.
PARIS.
You have broke it, cousin; and by my life, you shall make it whole again; you shall piece it out with a piece of your performance.
HELEN.
He is full of harmony.
PANDARUS.
Truly, lady, no.
HELEN.
O, sir—
PANDARUS.
Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude.
PARIS.
Well said, my lord. Well, you say so in fits.
PANDARUS.
I have business to my lord, dear queen. My lord, will you vouchsafe me a word?
HELEN.
Nay, this shall not hedge us out. We’ll hear you sing, certainly—
PANDARUS.
Well sweet queen, you are pleasant with me. But, marry, thus, my lord: my dear lord and most esteemed friend, your brother Troilus—
HELEN.