Outliving beauty’s outward, with a mind
That doth renew swifter than blood decays!
Or that persuasion could but thus convince me,
That my integrity and truth to you
Might be affronted with the match and weight
Of such a winnow’d purity in love;
How were I then uplifted! but, alas!
I am as true as truth’s simplicity
And simpler than the infancy of truth.
O virtuous fight,
When right with right wars who shall be most right!
True swains in love shall in the world to come
Approve their truths by Troilus: when their rhymes,
Full of protest, of oath and big compare,
Want similes, truth tired with iteration,
As true as steel, as plantage to the moon,
As sun to day, as turtle to her mate,
As iron to adamant, as earth to the 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.
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 they’ve said “as false
As air, as water, wind, or sandy earth,
As fox to lamb, as 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.”
Amen. Whereupon I will show you a chamber with 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, Pandar to provide this gear! Exeunt.
Scene III
The Grecian camp. Before Achilles’ tent.
Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Diomedes, Nestor, Ajax, Menelaus, and Calchas. | |
Calchas |
Now, princes, for the service I have done you, |
Agamemnon | What wouldst thou of us, Trojan? make demand. |
Calchas |
You have a Trojan prisoner, call’d Antenor, |
Agamemnon |
Let Diomedes bear him, |
Diomedes |
This shall I undertake; and ’tis a burden |
Enter Achilles and Patroclus, before their tent. | |
Ulysses |
Achilles stands i’ the entrance of his tent: |
Agamemnon |
We’ll execute your purpose, and put on |
Achilles |
What, comes the general to speak with me? |
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 used to bend, |
Achilles |
What, am I poor of late? |