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Troilus and Cressida
act ii   Scene 2.
William Shakespeare
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       Troy. PRIAM'S palace
       Enter PRIAM, HECTOR, TROILUS, PARIS, and HELENUS
       PRIAM
       After so many hours, lives, speeches, spent,
       Thus once again says Nestor from the Greeks:
       'Deliver Helen, and all damage else-
       As honour, loss of time, travail, expense,
       Wounds, friends, and what else dear that is consum'd
       In hot digestion of this cormorant war-
       Shall be struck off.' Hector, what say you to't?
       HECTOR
       Though no man lesser fears the Greeks than I,
       As far as toucheth my particular,
       Yet, dread Priam,
       There is no lady of more softer bowels,
       More spongy to suck in the sense of fear,
       More ready to cry out 'Who knows what follows?'
       Than Hector is. The wound of peace is surety,
       Surety secure; but modest doubt is call'd
       The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches
       To th' bottom of the worst. Let Helen go.
       Since the first sword was drawn about this question,
       Every tithe soul 'mongst many thousand dismes
       Hath been as dear as Helen-I mean, of ours.
       If we have lost so many tenths of ours
       To guard a thing not ours, nor worth to us,
       Had it our name, the value of one ten,
       What merit's in that reason which denies
       The yielding of her up?
       TROILUS
       Fie, fie, my brother!
       Weigh you the worth and honour of a king,
       So great as our dread father's, in a scale
       Of common ounces? Will you with counters sum
       The past-proportion of his infinite,
       And buckle in a waist most fathomless
       With spans and inches so diminutive
       As fears and reasons? Fie, for godly shame!
       HELENUS
       No marvel though you bite so sharp at reasons,
       You are so empty of them. Should not our father
       Bear the great sway of his affairs with reasons,
       Because your speech hath none that tells him so?
       TROILUS
       You are for dreams and slumbers, brother priest;
       You fur your gloves with reason. Here are your reasons:
       You know an enemy intends you harm;
       You know a sword employ'd is perilous,
       And reason flies the object of all harm.
       Who marvels, then, when Helenus beholds
       A Grecian and his sword, if he do set
       The very wings of reason to his heels
       And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove,
       Or like a star disorb'd? Nay, if we talk of reason,
       Let's shut our gates and sleep. Manhood and honour
       Should have hare hearts, would they but fat their thoughts
       With this cramm'd reason. Reason and respect
       Make livers pale and lustihood deject.
       HECTOR
       Brother, she is not worth what she doth, cost
       The keeping.
       TROILUS
       What's aught but as 'tis valued?
       HECTOR
       But value dwells not in particular will:
       It holds his estimate and dignity
       As well wherein 'tis precious of itself
       As in the prizer. 'Tis mad idolatry
       To make the service greater than the god-I
       And the will dotes that is attributive
       To what infectiously itself affects,
       Without some image of th' affected merit.
       TROILUS
       I take to-day a wife, and my election
       Is led on in the conduct of my will;
       My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears,
       Two traded pilots 'twixt the dangerous shores
       Of will and judgment: how may I avoid,
       Although my will distaste what it elected,
       The wife I chose? There can be no evasion
       To blench from this and to stand firm by honour.
       We turn not back the silks upon the merchant
       When we have soil'd them; nor the remainder viands
       We do not throw in unrespective sieve,
       Because we now are full. It was thought meet
       Paris should do some vengeance on the Greeks;
       Your breath with full consent benied his sails;
       The seas and winds, old wranglers, took a truce,
       And did him service. He touch'd the ports desir'd;
       And for an old aunt whom the Greeks held captive
       He brought a Grecian queen, whose youth and freshness
       Wrinkles Apollo's, and makes stale the morning.
       Why keep we her? The Grecians keep our aunt.
       Is she worth keeping? Why, she is a pearl
       Whose price hath launch'd above a thousand ships,
       And turn'd crown'd kings to merchants.
       If you'll avouch 'twas wisdom Paris went-
       As you must needs, for you all cried 'Go, go'-
       If you'll confess he brought home worthy prize-
       As you must needs, for you all clapp'd your hands,
       And cried 'Inestimable!' -why do you now
       The issue of your proper wisdoms rate,
       And do a deed that never fortune did-
       Beggar the estimation which you priz'd
       Richer than sea and land? O theft most base,
       That we have stol'n what we do fear to keep!
       But thieves unworthy of a thing so stol'n
       That in their country did them that disgrace
       We fear to warrant in our native place!
       CASSANDRA
       [Within] Cry, Troyans, cry.
       PRIAM
       What noise, what shriek is this?
       TROILUS
       'Tis our mad sister; I do know her voice.
       CASSANDRA
       [Within] Cry, Troyans.
       HECTOR
       It is Cassandra.
       Enter CASSANDRA, raving
       CASSANDRA
       Cry, Troyans, cry. Lend me ten thousand eyes,
       And I will fill them with prophetic tears.
       HECTOR
       Peace, sister, peace.
       CASSANDRA
       Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled eld,
       Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry,
       Add to my clamours. Let us pay betimes
       A moiety of that mass of moan to come.
       Cry, Troyans, cry. Practise your eyes with tears.
       Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand;
       Our firebrand brother, Paris, burns us all.
       Cry, Troyans, cry, A Helen and a woe!
       Cry, cry. Troy burns, or else let Helen go.
       Exit
       HECTOR
       Now, youthful Troilus, do not these high strains
       Of divination in our sister work
       Some touches of remorse, or is your blood
       So madly hot that no discourse of reason,
       Nor fear of bad success in a bad cause,
       Can qualify the same?
       TROILUS
       Why, brother Hector,
       We may not think the justness of each act
       Such and no other than event doth form it;
       Nor once deject the courage of our minds
       Because Cassandra's mad. Her brain-sick raptures
       Cannot distaste the goodness of a quarrel
       Which hath our several honours all engag'd
       To make it gracious. For my private part,
       I am no more touch'd than all Priam's sons;
       And Jove forbid there should be done amongst us
       Such things as might offend the weakest spleen
       To fight for and maintain.
       PARIS
       Else might the world convince of levity
       As well my undertakings as your counsels;
       But I attest the gods, your full consent
       Gave wings to my propension, and cut of
       All fears attending on so dire a project.
       For what, alas, can these my single arms?
       What propugnation is in one man's valour
       To stand the push and enmity of those
       This quarrel would excite? Yet, I protest,
       Were I alone to pass the difficulties,
       And had as ample power as I have will,
       Paris should ne'er retract what he hath done
       Nor faint in the pursuit.
       PRIAM
       Paris, you speak
       Like one besotted on your sweet delights.
       You have the honey still, but these the gall;
       So to be valiant is no praise at all.
       PARIS
       Sir, I propose not merely to myself
       The pleasures such a beauty brings with it;
       But I would have the soil of her fair rape
       Wip'd off in honourable keeping her.
       What treason were it to the ransack'd queen,
       Disgrace to your great worths, and shame to me,
       Now to deliver her possession up
       On terms of base compulsion! Can it be
       That so degenerate a strain as this
       Should once set footing in your generous bosoms?
       There's not the meanest spirit on our party
       Without a heart to dare or sword to draw
       When Helen is defended; nor none so noble
       Whose life were ill bestow'd or death unfam'd
       Where Helen is the subject. Then, I say,
       Well may we fight for her whom we know well
       The world's large spaces cannot parallel.
       HECTOR
       Paris and Troilus, you have both said well;
       And on the cause and question now in hand
       Have gloz'd, but superficially; not much
       Unlike young men, whom Aristode thought
       Unfit to hear moral philosophy.
       The reasons you allege do more conduce
       To the hot passion of distemp'red blood
       Than to make up a free determination
       'Twixt right and wrong; for pleasure and revenge
       Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice
       Of any true decision. Nature craves
       All dues be rend'red to their owners. Now,
       What nearer debt in all humanity
       Than wife is to the husband? If this law
       Of nature be corrupted through affection;
       And that great minds, of partial indulgence
       To their benumbed wills, resist the same;
       There is a law in each well-order'd nation
       To curb those raging appetites that are
       Most disobedient and refractory.
       If Helen, then, be wife to Sparta's king-
       As it is known she is-these moral laws
       Of nature and of nations speak aloud
       To have her back return'd. Thus to persist
       In doing wrong extenuates not wrong,
       But makes it much more heavy. Hector's opinion
       Is this, in way of truth. Yet, ne'er the less,
       My spritely brethren, I propend to you
       In resolution to keep Helen still;
       For 'tis a cause that hath no mean dependence
       Upon our joint and several dignities.
       TROILUS
       Why, there you touch'd the life of our design.
       Were it not glory that we more affected
       Than the performance of our heaving spleens,
       I would not wish a drop of Troyan blood
       Spent more in her defence. But, worthy Hector,
       She is a theme of honour and renown,
       A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds,
       Whose present courage may beat down our foes,
       And fame in time to come canonize us;
       For I presume brave Hector would not lose
       So rich advantage of a promis'd glory
       As smiles upon the forehead of this action
       For the wide world's revenue.
       HECTOR
       I am yours,
       You valiant offspring of great Priamus.
       I have a roisting challenge sent amongst
       The dull and factious nobles of the Greeks
       Will strike amazement to their drowsy spirits.
       I was advertis'd their great general slept,
       Whilst emulation in the army crept.
       This, I presume, will wake him.
       Exeunt
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Dramatis Personae
Prologue
act i
   Scene 1.
   Scene 2.
   Scene 3.
act ii
   Scene 1.
   Scene 2.
   Scene 3.
act iii
   Scene 1.
   Scene 2.
   Scene 3.
act iv
   Scene 1.
   Scene 2.
   Scene 3.
   Scene 4.
   Scene 5.
act v
   Scene 1.
   Scene 2.
   Scene 3.
   Scene 4.
   Scene 5.
   Scene 6.
   Scene 7.
   Scene 8.
   Scene 9.
   Scene 10.