TROILUS AND CRESSIDA

Priam, King of Troy

His sons:
HECTOR
TROILUS
PARIS
DEIPHOBUS
HELENUS
MARGARELON, an illegitimate son of Priam

Trojan leaders:
AENEAS
ANTENOR

CALCHAS, a Trojan priest, joining the Greeks
PANDARUS, Cressida's uncle
AGAMEMNON, the Greek general
MENELAUS, his brother

Greek commanders:
Achilles
Ajax
Odysseus
Nestor
Diomedes
Patroclus

THERSITES, a twisted and rude Greek
ALEXANDER, servant to Cressida
SERVANT to Troilus
SERVANT to Paris
SERVANT to Diomedes
HELEN, wife of Menelaus
ANDROMACHE, wife of Hector
CASSANDRA, daughter of Priam, a prophetess
CRESSIDA, daughter of Calchas

Trojan and Greek Soldiers, and Attendants

In Troy, that's where it all happens. From the islands of Greece,
The proud princes, feeling their noble status rise,
Have sent their ships to the port of Athens,
Loaded with the tools and men
Of brutal war. Sixty-nine who wore
Their royal crowns from the Athenian bay
Set off toward Phrygia; they've sworn
To plunder Troy, where the captured Helen,
Queen of Menelaus,
Sleeps with the reckless Paris—and that’s the conflict.
They arrive at Tenedos,
And the ships unload their war supplies there.
Now, on the Dardan plains,
The fresh, untested Greeks set up
Their brave tents: Priam’s six-gated city,
Dardan, Tymbria, Ilias, Chetas, Troy,
And the Antenorides, with heavy gates
And corresponding bolts,
Rouse the sons of Troy.
Now, expectation has everyone on edge,
Both Trojans and Greeks,
Putting everything at stake. And here I stand,
A prologue in armor, but not relying
On the author’s pen or the actor’s voice, but dressed
In the same situation as our story,
To tell you, kind audience, that our play
Skips over the boastful beginnings of those battles,
Starting in the middle and moving on
To what can be understood in a play.
Like it or criticize it; do as you please;
Now good or bad, it’s all just the luck of war.

Enter Troilus armed, and Pandarus.

TROILUS.
Call my servant here; I'll take off my armor again.
Why should I fight outside the walls of Troy
When the battle is so fierce inside?
Every Trojan who can control himself,
Should go to the field; Troilus, sadly, has none.

PANDARUS.
Will this stuff never be fixed?

TROILUS.
The Greeks are strong and skilled with their strength,
Fierce with their skills, and brave in their fierceness;
But I am weaker than a woman's tear,
Tamer than sleep, more affectionate than ignorance,
Less brave than a virgin in the dark,
And as inexperienced as an untrained child.

PANDARUS.
Well, I've said enough about this; as for me, I won't get involved any further. If you want a cake from the wheat, you have to wait for it to be ground.

TROILUS.
Have I not waited?

PANDARUS.
Yeah, the hard work; but you need to wait for the results.

TROILUS.
Have I not waited?

PANDARUS.
Yeah, the rushing, but you need to wait for the fermentation.

TROILUS.
I’ve still waited.

PANDARUS.
Yeah, to the rising; but in the word ‘hereafter,’ there’s also the mixing, the making of the cake, the heating of the oven, and the baking; you have to wait for it to cool too, or you might burn your lips.

TROILUS.
Even patience herself, whatever goddess she may be,
Flinches less at suffering than I do.
I sit at Priam’s royal table;
And when beautiful Cressid enters my mind,
So, traitor! ‘when she comes’! when she's gone?

PANDARUS.
Well, she looked last night more beautiful than I've ever seen her or any other woman.

TROILUS.
I was about to tell you: when my heart,
Caught in a sigh, feels like it's about to break,
Hoping Hector or my father won’t see me,
I’ve held this sigh back behind a smile,
But sorrow hidden behind a façade of happiness
Is like the joy that fate turns into sudden sadness.

PANDARUS.
If her hair weren’t a bit darker than Helen’s, honestly, there wouldn’t be any comparison between the two women. But, for me, she’s my relative; I wouldn’t, as they say, praise her, but I wish someone had heard her speak yesterday, like I did. I won’t criticize your sister Cassandra’s intelligence; but—

TROILUS.
Oh, Pandarus! I’m telling you, Pandarus,
When I say my hopes are completely lost,
Don’t react by talking about how deep they are.
I’m telling you I’m crazy
With love for Cressid. You respond, ‘She is beautiful’;
You keep pouring into the open wound in my heart
Her eyes, her hair, her face, her walk, her voice,
Bringing them up in your talk. Oh! that her hand,
Compared to which all whites seem like ink
Writing their own shame; to whose soft touch
The fluff of a swan feels rough, and the sensitivity
Is as tough as a farmer’s palm! You say this to me,
As truthfully as I say I love her;
But by saying that, instead of healing my wounds,
You’re just putting a knife in every cut that love has given me.

PANDARUS.
I'm just speaking the truth.

TROILUS.
You don’t speak as much.

PANDARUS.
Honestly, I won't get involved. Let her be who she is: if she's beautiful, that's great for her; and if she isn't, she can fix it herself.

TROILUS.
Hey Pandarus! What's up, Pandarus!

PANDARUS.
I’ve put in a lot of effort for this, but I've been poorly regarded by her and by you; I’ve gone back and forth, but I’ve received little appreciation for my efforts.

TROILUS.
What! Are you angry, Pandarus? What! With me?

PANDARUS.
Because she’s related to me, she isn’t as beautiful as Helen. And if she weren’t related to me, she would be just as beautiful on Friday as Helen is on Sunday. But why should I care? I don’t care even if she were a dark-skinned woman; it’s all the same to me.

TROILUS.
Am I saying she isn't beautiful?

PANDARUS.
I don't care whether you do or not. She's foolish to stick with her father. Let her go to the Greeks; I'll tell her that next time I see her. As for me, I won’t get involved in this anymore.

TROILUS.
Pandarus—

PANDARUS.
Not me.

TROILUS.
Sweet Pandarus—

PANDARUS.
Please, don't say anything more to me: I'll leave everything just as I found it, and that's final.

[Exit Pandarus. A loud noise.]

TROILUS.
Quiet down with your annoying shouts! Enough with the rude noise!
You’re all being foolish! Helen must be beautiful,
When you paint her so daily with your blood.
I can't fight over this topic;
It's too blank a subject for my sword.
But Pandarus, oh gods! how you torment me!
I can't get to Cressid without Pandar;
And he’s as hard to convince to help in romance
As she is stubbornly chaste against any advances.
Tell me, Apollo, for the love of your Daphne,
What is Cressid, what is Pandar, and what are we?
Her bed is in India; that’s where she lies, a pearl;
Between our Ilium and where she is,
Let it be called the wild and wandering sea;
We are the merchant, and this sailing Pandar
Our uncertain hope, our guide, and our ship.

Alarm. Enter Aeneas.

AENEAS.
Hey there, Prince Troilus! Why aren't you out in the field?

TROILUS.
Because she’s not here. This woman’s response fits,
Because it’s typical for a woman to be from there.
What’s the news, Aeneas, from the battlefield today?

AENEAS.
That Paris has come back home, and he's injured.

TROILUS.
By whom, Aeneas?

AENEAS.
Troilus, by Menelaus.

TROILUS.
Let Paris suffer: it’s just a wound to mock;
Paris is pierced by Menelaus’ horn.

[Alarm.]

AENEAS.
Hey, what fun events are happening in town today!

TROILUS.
It's better at home, if "could I wish" were "can."
But to the game outside. Are you going there?

AENEAS.
In a hurry.

TROILUS.
Come on, let’s go together.

[Leave the stage.]

Enter Cressida and her partner Alexander.

CRESSIDA.
Who were those that passed by?

ALEXANDER.
Queen Hecuba and Helen.

CRESSIDA.
And where are they going?

ALEXANDER.
Up to the eastern tower,
That overlooks the entire valley,
To watch the battle. Hector, known for his patience,
Was stirred today.
He scolded Andromache and struck his armor-bearer;
And just like there was diligence in war,
Before the sun rose he put on his light armor,
And he heads to the battlefield; where every flower
Seemed to weep as if predicting
What was to come with Hector’s rage.

CRESSIDA.
What triggered his anger?

ALEXANDER.
The noise is like this: among the Greeks
There's a lord of Trojan blood, Hector's nephew;
They call him Ajax.

CRESSIDA.
Good; what about him?

ALEXANDER.
They say he is quite a man in his own right
And stands alone.

CRESSIDA.
So do all men, unless they’re drunk, sick, or can’t walk.

ALEXANDER.
This man, lady, has taken many animals' unique traits: he is as brave as a lion, rude as a bear, slow as an elephant—a man so filled with quirks that his bravery turns into foolishness, and his foolishness mixed with wisdom. There’s no virtue he isn’t aware of, nor any flaw that he doesn’t have a touch of; he is sad for no reason and happy inappropriately; he has the ability to do everything; but everything is so out of whack that he’s like a gouty Briareus, with many hands that are useless, or a sightless Argus, full of eyes but no vision.

CRESSIDA.
But how can this guy, who makes me smile, make Hector angry?

ALEXANDER.
They say he captured Hector in the battle yesterday and took him down, and the contempt and embarrassment from that have kept Hector awake and unable to eat ever since.

Enter Pandarus.

CRESSIDA.
Who's there?

ALEXANDER.
Ma'am, your uncle Pandarus.

CRESSIDA.
Hector's a brave guy.

ALEXANDER.
As it might be in the world, lady.

PANDARUS.
What's that? What's that?

CRESSIDA.
Good morning, uncle Pandarus.

PANDARUS.
Good morning, cousin Cressid. What are you talking about?—Good morning, Alexander.—How are you, cousin? When were you in Ilium?

CRESSIDA.
This morning, Uncle.

PANDARUS.
What were you discussing when I arrived? Had Hector left and armed himself before you got to Ilium? Helen wasn't awake, was she?

CRESSIDA.
Hector was gone; but Helen was still not awake.

PANDARUS.
Yeah, Hector was up and about early.

CRESSIDA.
That's what we were talking about, and about his anger.

PANDARUS.
Was he upset?

CRESSIDA.
So he says this.

PANDARUS.
Yeah, that's true; I know why too; he's going to be aggressive today, I can assure them of that. And Troilus won't be far behind; they should watch out for Troilus, I can tell them that as well.

CRESSIDA.
What, is he mad too?

PANDARUS.
Who, Troilus? Troilus is the superior one of the two.

CRESSIDA.
Oh Jupiter! There's no comparison.

PANDARUS.
What, not between Troilus and Hector? Do you recognize someone when you see them?

CRESSIDA.
Yeah, if I’ve ever seen him before and recognized him.

PANDARUS.
Well, I say Troilus is Troilus.

CRESSIDA.
So you agree with me, because I’m certain he’s not Hector.

PANDARUS.
No, and Hector isn't Troilus in some ways either.

CRESSIDA.
It's fair to each of them: he is who he is.

PANDARUS.
Himself! Oh, poor Troilus! I wish he were!

CRESSIDA.
Yeah, he is.

PANDARUS.
If I had traveled to India without shoes.

CRESSIDA.
He’s not Hector.

PANDARUS.
Himself! No, he’s not himself. I wish he were! Anyway, the gods are in control; time will either help or end things. Well, Troilus, well! I wish my heart were in her body! No, Hector is not a better man than Troilus.

CRESSIDA.
Excuse me.

PANDARUS.
He's older.

CRESSIDA.
Excuse me, excuse me.

PANDARUS.
The other hasn’t arrived yet; you can share another story when the other gets here. Hector won’t be using his wit this year.

CRESSIDA.
He won't need it if he has his own.

ANDARUS.
Nor his traits.

CRESSIDA.
Whatever.

PANDARUS.
Not his looks.

CRESSIDA.
It wouldn't suit him: his own is better.

PANDARUS.
You really lack judgment, niece. Helen herself swore the other day that Troilus, for a brown favor, for that’s what it is, I must admit—not even brown—

CRESSIDA.
No, but it's brown.

PANDARUS.
Honestly, it's true, it's brown and not brown.

CRESSIDA.
Honestly, it's both true and not true.

PANDARUS.
She praised his looks more than Paris.

CRESSIDA.
Why, Paris has enough color.

PANDARUS.
Yes, he has.

CRESSIDA.
Then Troilus would have too much. If she praised him more than him, his appearance is better than his; he has enough color, and the other being better looking is too excessive a compliment for a good appearance. I would rather Helen’s golden tongue had endorsed Troilus for a copper nose.

PANDARUS.
I swear, I really think Helen loves him more than she loves Paris.

CRESSIDA.
Then she’s definitely a cheerful Greek.

PANDARUS.
No, I'm sure she does. She visited him the other day at the enclosed window—and you know he barely has three or four hairs on his chin—

CRESSIDA.
Sure, a bartender's math can easily add everything up.

PANDARUS.
Well, he’s really young, and yet he can lift as much as his brother Hector with just three pounds.

CRESSIDA.
Is he really such a young guy and yet such an experienced carrier?

PANDARUS.
But to show you that Helen loves him: she came and placed her white hand on his split chin—

CRESSIDA.
Juno, have mercy! How did it get split?

PANDARUS.
Well, you know, it’s dimpled. I think his smile suits him better than any man in all of Phrygia.

CRESSIDA.
Oh, he smiles bravely!

PANDARUS.
Does he not?

CRESSIDA.
Oh yes, if it were a cloud in autumn!

PANDARUS.
Well, let’s get to it then! But to show you that Helen loves Troilus—

CRESSIDA.
Troilus will stand by it, if you can prove it.

PANDARUS.
Troilus! He values her no more than I value a rotten egg.

CRESSIDA.
If you love a foolish person as much as you love a lazy one, you'd eat chickens in their shells.

PANDARUS.
I can’t help but laugh thinking about how she tickled his chin. Honestly, she has an amazing white hand, I have to admit.

CRESSIDA.
No torture.

PANDARUS.
And she decides to check for a white hair on his chin.

CRESSIDA.
Oh, poor chin! Even a wart is more valuable.

PANDARUS.
But there was so much laughter! Queen Hecuba laughed until her eyes overflowed with tears.

CRESSIDA.
With grindstones.

PANDARUS.
And Cassandra laughed.

CRESSIDA.
But there was a calmer fire in her eyes. Did her eyes overflow too?

PANDARUS.
And Hector laughed.

CRESSIDA.
What was all this laughing about?

PANDARUS.
Wow, look at the white hair that Helen noticed on Troilus’ chin.

CRESSIDA.
If it had been green hair, I would have laughed too.

PANDARUS.
They didn’t laugh so much at the hair as at his clever response.

CRESSIDA.
What did he say?

PANDARUS.
She said, "You’ve only got fifty-two hairs on your chin, and one of them is white."

CRESSIDA.
This is her query.

PANDARUS.
That's true; there's no doubt about it. "Two and fifty hairs," he said, "and one white. That white hair is my father's, and all the rest are his sons." "Jupiter!" she exclaimed, "which of these hairs is Paris, my husband?" "The forked one," he replied, "pluck it out and give it to him." But there was so much laughter! Helen blushed, and Paris got all worked up; and everyone else was laughing so hard that it continued on.

CRESSIDA.
So let it be; it’s been a long time coming.

PANDARUS.
Well, cousin, I told you something yesterday; think about it.

CRESSIDA.
I do.

PANDARUS.
I swear it’s true; he will make you cry, just like someone born in April.

CRESSIDA.
And I'll rise up in his tears, like a nettle in spring.

Fall back.

PANDARUS.
Hey! They're coming in from the field. Should we stay here and watch them go by on their way to Ilium? Come on, my dear niece, do it for me, sweet niece Cressida.

CRESSIDA.
At your convenience.

PANDARUS.
Hey, over here, this is a great spot; we can see everything really well. I'll name each of them as they go by, but pay special attention to Troilus.

[Aeneas walks by.]

CRESSIDA.
Don't speak so loudly.

PANDARUS.
That’s Aeneas. Isn’t he a brave man? He’s one of the best of Troy, I can tell you. But watch Troilus; you’ll see soon enough.

[Antenor walks by.]

CRESSIDA.
Who is that?

PANDARUS.
That’s Antenor. He’s got a sharp mind, trust me; and he’s a decent guy; he has one of the best judgments in Troy, no matter who you ask, and he’s a good-looking man. When’s Troilus coming? I’ll show you Troilus soon. If he spots me, you’ll see him nod at me.

CRESSIDA.
Will he text you?

PANDARUS.
You'll see.

CRESSIDA.
If he does, the rich will get more.

[Hector walks by.]

PANDARUS.
That’s Hector! Check him out; he’s something else! Go on, Hector! What a courageous guy, niece. Oh, brave Hector! Just look at him. What a presence! Isn’t he something special?

CRESSIDA.
Oh, what a brave man!

PANDARUS.
Isn’t it? It really lifts a man's spirits. Look at those dents on his helmet! See over there? Look right there. This isn’t a joke; it’s serious business; whoever wants to take it off can try, as they say. Those are some serious dents.

CRESSIDA.
Are those people with swords?

PANDARUS.
Swords! He doesn't care about anything; even if the devil shows up, it's the same to him. Honestly, it makes you feel good inside. Here comes Paris, here comes Paris.

[Paris goes by.]

Look over there, niece; isn’t that a handsome man too? Isn’t it? Wow, this is great. Who said he came back home hurt today? He’s not hurt. This will make Helen happy now, right? I wish I could see Troilus right now! You’ll see Troilus soon.

[Helenus walks by.]

CRESSIDA.
Who's that?

PANDARUS.
That's Helenus. I wonder where Troilus is. That's
Helenus. I don't think he went out today. That's Helenus.

CRESSIDA.
Can Uncle Helenus fight?

PANDARUS.
Helenus! no. Yes, he’ll fight pretty well. I wonder where Troilus is. Listen! Don’t you hear the people calling ‘Troilus’?—Helenus is a priest.

CRESSIDA.
What sneaky guy is that?

[Troilus walks by.]

PANDARUS.
Where? Over there? That’s Deiphobus. It’s Troilus. There’s a guy, niece. Hem! Brave Troilus, the prince of knights!

CRESSIDA.
Please, for shame, be quiet!

PANDARUS.
Check him out; pay attention. Oh, brave Troilus! Take a good look at him, niece; see how his sword is covered in blood, and his helmet is more battered than Hector’s; and notice how he looks and how he carries himself! Oh, what an amazing guy! He hasn’t even seen twenty-three yet. Go on, Troilus, do your thing. If I had a sister who was graceful or a daughter who was a goddess, he could choose either one. Oh, what a remarkable man! Paris? Paris is nothing compared to him; and I bet, if Helen had the chance, she’d give an eye to have him.

CRESSIDA.
Here comes more.

[Regular soldiers pass.]

PANDARUS.
Donkeys, fools, idiots! Just useless stuff, useless stuff! It's like having porridge after a feast! I could live and die just in the gaze of Troilus. Don't look, don't look; the eagles have flown away. Crows and ravens, crows and ravens! I'd rather be someone like Troilus than Agamemnon and all of Greece.

CRESSIDA.
Among the Greeks, there's Achilles, who's a better man than Troilus.

PANDARUS.
Achilles? A truck driver, a delivery person, a total pack mule!

CRESSIDA.
Wow, wow.

PANDARUS.
Well, well! Do you have any sense? Can you see? Do you know what a man is? Isn’t it birth, looks, good build, conversation skills, masculinity, knowledge, kindness, virtue, youth, generosity, and things like that, the spice and salt that make a man?

CRESSIDA.
Yeah, a minced man; and then to be baked with no date in the pie, because then the man's date is expired.

PANDARUS.
You are something else! A guy can’t tell which way you lean.

CRESSIDA.
On my back, to protect my belly; on my intelligence, to protect my cleverness; on my secrecy, to protect my honesty; my mask, to protect my beauty; and you, to protect all of this; and for all these defenses, I keep a thousand watches.

PANDARUS.
Show me one of your watches.

CRESSIDA.
No, I’ll keep an eye on you for that; and that’s one of the most important ones too. If I can’t prevent what I don’t want to happen, I can still watch you to see how I handled the hit; unless it gets too big to hide, and then it’s too late to keep an eye on it.

PANDARUS.
You're such a copycat!

Enter Troilus' Boy.

BOY.
Sir, my lord wants to speak with you right away.

PANDARUS.
Where at?

BOY.
At your own house; there he takes off his weapons.

PANDARUS.
Good boy, tell him I'm on my way. [Exit Boy.] I doubt he’s hurt. Take care, good niece.

CRESSIDA.
Goodbye, uncle.

PANDARUS.
I'll be with you soon, niece.

CRESSIDA.
To bring, Uncle.

PANDARUS.
Yeah, a token from Troilus.

[Exit Pandarus.]

CRESSIDA.
Similarly, you are a pimp.
He offers words, promises, gifts, tears, and the full sacrifice of love
in someone else's game;
But I see so much more in Troilus
than what Pandar’s flattery can show.
Still, I hold back. Women are like angels when they court:
Once something is won, it’s over; the real joy is in the pursuit.
The one who is loved knows nothing if she doesn’t understand this:
Men value what they can't have more than it really is.
She has never known
love to be as sweet as when desire is pursuing;
So I teach this lesson about love:
‘Success is about taking charge; if not, you plead.’
Though my heart truly holds deep love,
I won’t let any of that show in my eyes.

[Log out.]

Sennet. Enter Agamemnon, Nestor, Ulysses, Diomedes, Menelaus and others.

AGAMEMNON.
Princes,
What sorrow has cast this pallor over your faces?
The grand promise that hope offers
In all endeavors started on this earth
Falls short of its intended greatness; setbacks and failures
Flow through the veins of actions that reach for the highest goals,
Like knots form when sap converges,
Infecting the sound pine and altering its growth
In twisted, errant ways.
It’s not new to us, princes,
That we fall so short of what we expected
That after seven years of siege, Troy's walls still stand;
Since every action taken previously,
That we have documented, has led to outcomes that
Bias and hinder us, failing to meet our goals,
And that formless idea we envisioned
That gave it a supposed shape. So, princes,
Why do you look at our efforts with shame-filled faces
And call them disgraceful, when they are really nothing
But long-lasting tests from great Jove
To find true perseverance in men;
The quality of which is not discovered
In fortune’s favor? Because then the brave and the coward,
The wise and foolish, the skilled and the unlearned,
The tough and the gentle, all seem related and alike.
But in the storm and fury of her disfavor,
Distinction, with a powerful fan,
Blows apart everything, separating the light;
And what has substance or worth on its own
Is rich in virtue and untainted.

NESTOR.
Respectfully addressing your godlike position,
Great Agamemnon, Nestor will honor
Your recent words. The true test of men lies
In the challenges they face. When the sea is calm,
How many flimsy little boats are willing to sail
On her gentle surface, making their way
Alongside those of stronger build?
But let the fierce Boreas stir up
The gentle Thetis, and then watch
The sturdy ship slice through towering waves,
Bounding between the two wet elements
Like Perseus’ horse. Where then is the arrogant boat,
Whose weak, unreinforced sides just a moment ago
Competed with greatness? Either it has fled to port
Or become a sacrifice to Neptune. Just like that,
The appearance of bravery and true courage separate
In the storms of fortune; for in her light and brilliance,
The crowd feels more disturbance from the breeze
Than from the tiger; but when the raging wind
Bends the knees of sturdy oaks,
And birds flee for cover—well, then the brave person,
Awakened by anger, responds in kind,
And with a voice tuned to the same pitch,
Retorts to the challenges of fortune.

ULYSSES.
Agamemnon,
You great leader, the strength and essence of Greece,
Heart of our numbers, the soul and only spirit
In whom the tempers and thoughts of all
Should be contained—listen to what Ulysses has to say.
In addition to the applause and approval
That, [To Agamemnon] most powerful, is due to your position and authority,
[To Nestor] And you, most respected, for your long life,
I acknowledge both of your speeches—which were such
As Agamemnon and the might of Greece
Should proudly display in bronze; and such again
As venerable Nestor, born in silver,
Should with a bond of air, strong as the axle-tree
On which heaven rides, connect all the Greek ears
To his wise tongue—yet I ask both,
You great and wise, to hear Ulysses speak.

AGAMEMNON.
Go ahead, Prince of Ithaca; and don’t hold back
On talking about things that don’t matter,
Because what you say will be more valuable
Than what we expect,
When rank Thersites opens his mouth,
We’ll hear music, cleverness, and wisdom.

ULYSSES.
Troy, still standing strong, would have fallen,
And the great Hector’s sword would have gone without a master,
But for these reasons:
The importance of leadership has been overlooked;
And look how many Greek tents are set up
Empty on this plain, so many empty factions.
When the commander isn’t like a hive,
To which all the gatherers return,
What sweetness can be expected? When hierarchy is disguised,
The unworthy appear just as noble behind the mask.
The heavens themselves, the planets, and this center,
Observe hierarchy, priority, and place,
Their paths, courses, proportions, seasons, forms,
Roles, and traditions, in every line of order;
And that’s why the glorious sun
Is seated and encircled in noble height
Among the others, with its healing light
Correcting the influence of harmful planets,
And like a king’s command,
Without check, affecting both good and bad. But when the planets
Wander in chaotic mixture,
What plagues and omens, what rebellion,
What raging seas, shaking earth,
Commotion in the winds! Frights, changes, horrors,
Divert and fracture, tear and uproot,
The unity and calm of states
Completely from their foundation! O, when hierarchy is shaken,
Which is the ladder of all great ambitions,
The endeavor becomes ill! How could communities,
Ranks in schools, and brotherhoods in cities,
Peaceful trade from separable shores,
The right of birth, the privilege of age,
Crowns, scepters, laurels,
But by rank stand in their rightful place?
Just take away rank, untune that string,
And listen to the discord that follows! Everything dissolves
In pure opposition: the contained waters
Should lift their chests higher than the shores,
And drown this solid globe;
Strength should rule over weakness,
And the rude son should strike his father dead;
Force should define what's right; or, rather, right and wrong—
Between whose endless conflict justice resides—
Should lose their identities, and so should justice too.
Then everything turns into power,
Power into will, will into desire;
And desire, a universal predator,
So amplified by will and power,
Must inevitably become a universal prey,
And ultimately consume itself. Great Agamemnon,
This chaos, when hierarchy is stifled,
Follows the suffocation.
And this disregard for rank
Moves backward with a purpose
It has to climb. The commander is disdained
By the one just below, he by the next,
That one by him below; so every step,
Following the first step that is ill
From his superior, grows into an envious fever
Of pale and bloodless competition.
And it’s this fever that keeps Troy standing,
Not her own strength. To summarize a lengthy tale,
Troy stands because of our weakness, not her strength.

NESTOR.
Ulysses has wisely figured out
The problem that is making all of us weak.

AGAMEMNON.
What’s the cause of the sickness, Ulysses?
What’s the cure?

ULYSSES.
The great Achilles, whom everyone recognizes
As the backbone of our army,
With his head full of his own glory,
Becomes choosy about his worth and in his tent
Mocks our plans; with him Patroclus
On a lazy bed all day long
Cracks silly jokes;
And with ridiculous and clumsy gestures—
Which, the critic calls imitation—
He puts on a show for us. Sometimes, great Agamemnon,
He impersonates your top-ranking delegation;
And like a proud actor who thinks
It’s impressive to hear the wooden banter
Between his exaggerated stance and the stage—
Such pitiable and overacted portrayal
He gives of your greatness; and when he speaks
It’s like a broken chime; with words unpolished,
Which, from the mouth of the roaring Typhon,
Would sound like exaggerations. At this stale performance,
The big Achilles, lounging on his pressed bed,
Bursts out laughing from his deep chest;
Cries ‘Excellent! That’s Agamemnon for sure!
Now act like Nestor; cough and stroke your beard,
As he would when preparing for a speech.’
That’s done—almost as far apart
As the extremes of parallels, as different as Vulcan and his wife;
Yet god Achilles still shouts ‘Excellent!
That’s Nestor spot on. Now perform him for me, Patroclus,
Getting ready to respond to a nighttime alarm.’
And then, indeed, the frail signs of age
Must be the source of amusement: to cough and spit
And, with a shaky hand fumbling on his armor,
Jingle the rivet in and out. And during this game
Sir Valor dies; cries ‘Oh, enough, Patroclus;
Or give me steel ribs! I’ll break everything
In the pleasure of my frustration.’ And in this way
All our skills, talents, natures, appearances,
Individuals and collectives of exact grace,
Accomplishments, schemes, arrangements, preventions,
Incitements to battle or speeches for truce,
Success or failure, what is or isn’t, serves
As material for these two to create paradoxes.

NESTOR.
And in copying these two—
Who, as Ulysses says, are celebrated
With a commanding voice—many are affected.
Ajax has become self-willed and holds himself
In such a way, just as proudly
As broad Achilles; keeps his tent like him;
Throws extravagant parties; criticizes our state of war
As boldly as an oracle, and makes Thersites,
A slave whose sharp tongue spreads slander like a mint,
To compare us to dirt,
To undermine and discredit our efforts,
No matter how dangerous the situation is.

ULYSSES.
They criticize our strategy and label it cowardice,
Consider wisdom irrelevant to the conflict,
Ignore foresight, and value only actions
That involve direct force. The calm and thoughtful elements
That determine how many hands will strike
When the situation demands it, and understand, through their careful work,
The enemies’ strength—
Well, this is dismissed as insignificant:
They refer to it as useless planning, desk-bound warfare;
So the ram that breaks down the wall,
Due to its sheer weight and clumsiness,
They credit for its hand that built the machine,
Or those who, with the depth of their minds,
Intellectually control its execution.

NESTOR.
If this is accepted, then Achilles' horse
Creates many sons of Thetis.

[Tucket.]

AGAMEMNON.
What trumpet? Check this out, Menelaus.

Menelaus.
From Troy.

Enter Aeneas.

AGAMEMNON.
What do you want from our tent?

AENEAS.
Is this the tent of the great Agamemnon?

AGAMEMNON.
Even this one.

AENEAS.
Can someone who is both a messenger and a prince
Deliver a good message to his royal eyes?

AGAMEMNON.
With confidence stronger than Achilles’ strength
For all the Greek leaders, who with one voice
Call Agamemnon their chief and commander.

AENEAS.
A warm welcome and great safety. How can
someone unfamiliar with such royal looks
tell them apart from the eyes of ordinary people?

AGAMEMNON.
What?

AENEAS.
Yeah;
I ask so I can inspire respect,
And urge the cheek to prepare for a blush
As modest as the morning when it coolly gazes
At the young Phoebus.
Which god is in charge, guiding people?
Which one is the great and powerful Agamemnon?

AGAMEMNON.
This Trojan looks down on us, or maybe the people of Troy
Are just formal and polite like courtiers.

AENEAS.
Courtiers are free, charming, and unarmed,
Like gentle angels; that's their reputation in peace.
But when they try to act like soldiers, they have the bitterness,
Good weapons, strong bodies, true swords; and, with Jove’s favor,
Nothing is so full of courage. But peace, Aeneas,
Peace, Trojan; put your finger on your lips.
The value of praise diminishes its worth,
If the one being praised is the one who brings it up;
But what the complaining enemy admires,
That is the breath of fame; that praise, pure and alone, transcends.

AGAMEMNON.
Sir, you from Troy, do you call yourself Aeneas?

AENEAS.
Yeah, I'm Greek, that's my name.

AGAMEMNON.
What’s going on with you, if I may ask?

AENEAS.
Sir, excuse me; this is meant for Agamemnon.

AGAMEMNON
He hears nothing privately that comes from Troy.

AENEAS.
I'm not coming from Troy just to chat with him;
I bring a trumpet to get his attention,
To make him focus and listen carefully,
And then to talk.

AGAMEMNON.
Speak openly like the wind;
It’s not Agamemnon’s bedtime.
You should know, Trojan, he is awake,
He’s telling you that himself.

AENEAS.
Trumpet, sound off loud,
Carry your brass voice through all these lazy tents;
And every brave Greek, let him hear
What Troy truly means will be said out loud.

[Play trumpet.]

We have, great Agamemnon, here in Troy
A prince named Hector—his father is Priam—
Who, during this dull and long-lasting truce,
Has grown restless; he asked me to take a trumpet
And say this: Kings, princes, lords!
If there’s anyone among the finest of Greece
Who values his honor more than his comfort,
Who seeks praise more than he fears danger,
Who knows his bravery and doesn’t know fear,
Who loves his lady more than just in words,
With empty promises to her own face,
And dares to declare her beauty and worth
In the arms of someone other than her own—this is for him.
Hector, in front of both Trojans and Greeks,
Will stand by his word or do his best to do so:
He has a lady who is wiser, more beautiful, and more loyal,
Than any Greek has ever held in his arms;
And tomorrow, with his trumpet, he will call
To the space between your tents and the walls of Troy
To challenge a Grecian who is true in love.
If anyone shows up, Hector will honor him;
If no one does, he’ll say in Troy, when he returns,
That the Grecian women are sunburnt and not worth
The splinter of a lance. That’s all.

AGAMEMNON.
This will be shared with our friends, Lord Aeneas.
If none of them have the spirit for this,
We left them all at home. But we are soldiers;
And may any soldier who isn’t brave
Be someone who doesn’t love, hasn’t loved, or isn’t in love.
If someone is, has, or intends to be,
That person should confront Hector; if no one else does, I will.

NESTOR.
Tell him about Nestor, who was a real man
When Hector’s grandfather was still alive. He’s old now;
But if there’s a noble man in our Greek army
Who has even a little courage
To stand up for his love, tell him from me
I’ll hide my gray beard under a gold helmet,
And in my armor I’ll put these weakened muscles,
And when I meet him, I’ll tell him that my lady
Was prettier than his grandmother, and as pure
As anyone could be in the world. In my old age,
I’ll prove this truth with my last three drops of blood.

AENEAS.
Now heavens forbid such a shortage of youth!

ULYSSES.
Amen.

AGAMEMNON.
Dear Lord Aeneas, let me shake your hand;
I’ll lead you to our tent, sir.
Achilles will hear about this plan;
And so will every lord of Greece, from tent to tent.
You’ll dine with us before you leave,
And experience the hospitality of a noble rival.

[All exit except Ulysses and Nestor.]

ULYSSES.
Nestor!

NESTOR.
What does Ulysses say?

ULYSSES.
I have a new idea in my head;
Help me turn it into something real.

NESTOR.
What is it?

ULYSSES.
This is it:
Blunt wedges split tough knots. The pride that has grown to this level in strong Achilles must either be cut down now or, if it sheds, will create a breeding ground for more of the same trouble to overwhelm us all.

NESTOR.
So, what's up?

ULYSSES.
This challenge that the brave Hector sends,
No matter how widely it is known,
Is intended solely for Achilles.

NESTOR.
True. The purpose is clear, just like the essence
That small details sum up;
And in the reveal, there's no effort needed
Except that Achilles, if his mind were as empty
As the deserts of Libya—though, as Apollo knows,
It’s dry enough—will quickly figure out
Yes, with speed, discover Hector’s intent
Aiming at him.

ULYSSES.
And do you really think you can wake him up to find out the answer?

NESTOR.
Well, that makes perfect sense. Who else can stand against
Hector to take away his honors,
If not Achilles? Even though it’s just a fun fight,
There’s a lot riding on this.
The Trojans will be judging our reputation
With their finest taste; and trust me, Ulysses,
Our reputation will be strangely balanced
In this disgraceful act; because the outcome,
While it matters to individuals, will reflect
Whether things are good or bad for everyone;
And in those signs, even small ones,
You can see the early hints of the huge
Things that are coming. It’s believed
Whoever faces Hector is the one we choose;
And this choice, being a shared decision of all of us,
Makes merit its own selection, and bubbles up,
As if from all of us combines, a person shaped
From our strengths; if he fails,
What heart doesn’t take a piece of that victory,
To strengthen their own opinion?
Once that opinion is accepted, his body becomes
Its own weapon, as effective as swords and bows
Guided by his movements.

ULYSSES.
Please forgive my words. So, it’s best
That Achilles doesn’t meet Hector. Let’s, like merchants,
First present our bad goods and hope they’ll sell;
If not, the shine of the better will stand out
By showing the worse first. Don’t agree
That Hector and Achilles should ever meet;
Because both our honor and our shame in this
Are followed by two strange companions.

NESTOR.
I can't see them with my old eyes. What are they?

ULYSSES.
What glory our Achilles gets from Hector,
If he weren't so proud, we would all share in it;
But he’s already too arrogant;
And it’s better to dry out under the African sun
Than to endure the pride and scorn in his eyes,
Should he escape Hector easily. If he were defeated,
Then we completely undermine our main belief
In the reputation of our best man. No, let’s draw lots;
And, by some plan, let the foolish Ajax pick
The lot to fight Hector. Among ourselves,
Let’s give him credit as the better fighter;
For that will help the great Myrmidon,
Who is caught up in loud cheers, and make him lower
His crest, which is prouder than the blue Iris bends.
If dull-witted Ajax comes through safely,
We’ll celebrate him; if he fails,
We’ll still hold on to our belief
That we have better men. But, hit or miss,
The lifeblood of our plan is this kind of sense—
Ajax on the job strips Achilles of his pride.

NESTOR.
Now, Ulysses, I’m starting to appreciate your advice;
And I’ll share it immediately
With Agamemnon. Let’s head to him right away.
Two dogs will be able to handle each other: only pride
Will keep the big dogs barking, as if it were their bone.

[Exit.]

Enter Ajax and Thersites.

AJAX.
Thersites!

THERSITES.
Agamemnon—what if he had boils, everywhere, all over his body?

AJAX.
Thersites!

THERSITES.
And those boils did run—say it. Didn't the general run then? Wasn't that a messy situation?

AJAX.
Dog!

THERSITES.
Then he would say something;
I don’t see anything now.

AJAX.
You son of a bitch, can’t you hear? Then feel.

[Hits him.]

THERSITES.
The plague of Greece is upon you, you mixed-up, dull-witted lord!

AJAX.
So go ahead, you bland dough, speak. I’ll shape you into something attractive.

THERSITES.
I’ll insult you into being smart and good; but I think your horse could deliver a speech faster than you could learn a prayer by heart. You can fight, right? Damn your horse’s tricks!

AJAX.
Toadstool, tell me the announcement.

THERSITES.
Do you think I don't have any sense, that you hit me like this?

AJAX.
The announcement!

THERSITES.
I think you're being called a fool.

AJAX.
Don't, porcupine, don't; my fingers are itching.

THERSITES.
I wish you itched all over and I could scratch you; I would make you the most disgusting scab in Greece. When you're out on raids, you strike as slowly as everyone else.

AJAX.
I declare, the announcement.

THERSITES.
You complain and insult Achilles every hour; and you are as jealous of his greatness as Cerberus is of Proserpina’s beauty—yes, that’s why you’re always barking at him.

AJAX.
Mistress Thersites!

THERSITES.
You should strike him.

AJAX.
Cobloaf!

THERSITES.
He would smash you into pieces with his fist, like a sailor breaks a cracker.

AJAX.
You scoundrel!

[Hits him.]

THERSITES.
Go for it.

AJAX.
You stool for a witch!

THERSITES.
Yeah, go ahead; you thick-headed lord! You have no more brains than I do in my elbows; a donkey could teach you something. You pathetic brave fool! You're only here to beat up Trojans, and you're traded like a barbarian slave among people with any smarts. If you plan to hit me, I'll start at your heel and expose what you really are, you heartless thing!

AJAX.
You pup!

You filthy lord!

AJAX.
You jerk!

[Hits him.]

THERSITES.
Mars his fool! Come on, rudeness; come on, camel; come on, come on.

Enter Achilles and Patroclus.

ACHILLES.
Hey, Ajax! What’s going on?
Hey, Thersites! What’s the problem, man?

THERSITES.
Do you see him over there?

ACHILLES.
Yeah; what's wrong?

THERSITES.
No, look at him.

ACHILLES.
Yeah, I do. What's going on?

THERSITES.
No, but pay attention to him.

ACHILLES.
Well! I sure do.

THERSITES.
But you still don't seem to look at him the right way; no matter how you see him, he is Ajax.

ACHILLES.
I know that, idiot.

THERSITES.
Yeah, but that idiot doesn’t even know himself.

AJAX.
So I defeat you.

THERSITES.
Wow, wow, wow, what little bits of cleverness he shares! His excuses are ridiculously long. I’ve knocked some sense into him more than he’s hurt me. I could buy nine sparrows for a penny, and his brain isn’t worth even a tiny fraction of one of them. This lord, Achilles—Ajax, who has his smarts in his stomach and his guts in his head—let me tell you what I think of him.

ACHILLES.
What’s up?

THERSITES.
I say this to Ajax—

[Ajax offers to hit him.]

ACHILLES.
No, good Ajax.

THERSITES.
Has not that much wit—

ACHILLES.
No, I have to keep you.

THERSITES.
As will stop the eye of Helen’s needle, for whom he has come to fight.

ACHILLES.
Chill out, fool.

THERSITES.
I want peace and quiet, but that idiot won’t let me—he over there; see him?

AJAX.
You damn mutt! I’m going to—

ACHILLES.
Are you really going to use your cleverness on a fool?

THERSITES.
No, I guarantee you, the fool's actions will disgrace it.

PATROCLUS.
Well said, Thersites.

ACHILLES.
What's the argument?

AJAX.
I told the nasty owl to go find out the details of the proclamation, and he yelled at me.

I don't serve you.

AJAX.
Okay, go ahead.

THERSITES.
I serve here voluntarily.

ACHILLES.
Your last service was suffering; it wasn't voluntary. No one gets beaten voluntarily. Ajax was here voluntarily, and you were under a compulsion.

THERSITES.
Exactly; a lot of your cleverness is in your muscles, or else there are liars. Hector is going to make a big impression and knock some sense into you: it would be just as pointless as cracking an old nut with no nut inside.

ACHILLES.
What about me too, Thersites?

THERSITES.
There’s Ulysses and old Nestor—whose jokes were outdated before your grandparents had toes—yoke you like draft animals and make you fight their battles.

ACHILLES.
What’s up?

THERSITES.
Yes, really. To Achilles, to Ajax, to—

AJAX.
I will cut out your tongue.

THERSITES.
It doesn't matter; I'll say just as much as you later.

PATROCLUS.
No more talking, Thersites; peace!

THERSITES.
Am I supposed to stay quiet just because Achilles' dog tells me to?

ACHILLES.
Here’s for you, Patroclus.

THERSITES.
I’d rather see you hanged like a scarecrow than come back to your tents again. I’ll stay where there’s some intelligence happening and leave the group of idiots.

[Log Out.]

Good riddance.

ACHILLES.
Listen, this has been announced to our entire camp,
That Hector, by five o'clock tomorrow,
Will blow a trumpet between our tents and Troy,
Calling any knight to arms
Who’s up for a fight; and someone who’s willing
To take on who knows what; it’s nonsense. Goodbye.

AJAX.
Goodbye. Who will answer him?

ACHILLES.
I don’t know; it’s left to chance, otherwise,
He knew his guy.

AJAX.
Oh, are you referring to yourself? I’ll go find out more about it.

[Exit.]

Enter Priam, Hector, Troilus, Paris, and Helenus.

PRIAM.
After so many hours, lives, and speeches spent,
Once again, Nestor speaks on behalf of the Greeks:
‘Hand over Helen, and all the other damages—
Like honor, lost time, effort, expense,
Wounds, friends, and everything else precious wasted
In the heated battle of this greedy war—
Shall be cancelled.’ Hector, what do you think?

HECTOR.
Though no man fears the Greeks more than I do,
As far as it concerns me personally,
Yet, dear Priam,
There is no woman with more compassion,
More eager to absorb the feeling of fear,
More likely to cry out, ‘Who knows what comes next?’
Than Hector is. The wound of peace is certainty,
Certainty is secure; but moderate doubt is called
The guiding light of the wise, the tent that explores
To the bottom of the worst. Let Helen go.
Since the first sword was drawn over this issue,
Every single soul among many thousands
Has been as dear as Helen—I mean, of our lot.
If we have lost so many tenths of ourselves
To protect something that isn’t ours, nor worth to us,
Even if it had our name, the value of one tenth,
What reason is there to deny
Giving her up?

TROILUS.
Come on, brother!
Can you really measure the value and honor of a king,
As great as our feared father’s, using just ordinary weights?
Will you try to add up his immense legacy
Using trivial little markers
And fit something so vast
Into tiny measurements like fears and reasons?
Come on, that's just shameful!

HELENUS.
It's no surprise you argue so sharply,
You have so little to support your claims. Shouldn't our father
Manage his affairs with good reasoning,
Just because your words don't convince him otherwise?

TROILUS.
You're all about daydreams and naps, brother priest;
You line your gloves with logic. Here’s your logic:
You know an enemy wants to hurt you;
You know using a sword is dangerous,
And reason avoids anything harmful.
So who’s surprised when Helenus sees
A Greek with a sword, if he puts
All the wings of reason on his heels
And darts away like Mercury running from Jove,
Or like a lost star? If we’re talking about reason,
Let’s just close the gates and sleep. Manhood and honor
Should have bold hearts, if they would just fill their thoughts
With this stuffed reason. Logic and respect
Make livers pale and enthusiasm fade.

HECTOR.
Brother, she isn't worth the trouble of keeping.

TROILUS.
What’s anything other than how it’s valued?

HECTOR.
But value doesn’t depend on individual desire:
It has its worth and dignity
In what is valuable on its own
As much as in the one who values it. It’s crazy worship
To elevate the service above the god,
And the desire is foolish that attributes
To what it selfishly desires,
Without some representation of the true worth.

TROILUS.
Today I take a wife, and my decision
Is guided by my desire;
My desire ignited by what I see and hear,
Two skilled navigators caught between the risky shores
Of desire and judgment: how can I escape,
Even if my desire dislikes what it chose,
The wife I picked? There’s no way out
To back away from this and to stand firm by honor.
We don’t return the silks to the merchant
After we’ve soiled them; nor do we discard leftover food
In a careless way,
Just because we’re full now. It was agreed
That Paris should take some revenge on the Greeks;
Your voices, with full agreement, filled his sails;
The seas and winds, old adversaries, called a truce,
And helped him out. He reached the desired ports;
And for an old aunt whom the Greeks held captive
He brought back a Greek queen, whose youth and beauty
Make the sun look old and stale the morning.
Why are we keeping her? The Greeks have our aunt.
Is she worth keeping? Well, she is a pearl
Whose value has launched over a thousand ships,
And turned crowned kings into merchants.
If you agree it was wise for Paris to go—
As you must, since you all shouted ‘Go, go’—
If you admit he brought back a worthy prize—
As you must, since you all clapped your hands,
And shouted ‘Priceless!’—why do you now
Assess the result of your own wisdom,
And do something that Fortune never did—
Underrate the value you cherished
More than the sea and land? Oh, what a low act,
That we’ve stolen what we’re afraid to keep!
But thieves unworthy of such a stolen treasure
That brought them disgrace in their own country
We fear to claim in our homeland!

CASSANDRA.
[Within.] Weep, Trojans, weep.

PRIAM.
What is that noise, what scream is this?

TROILUS.
It's our crazy sister; I recognize her voice.

CASSANDRA.
[Within.] Cry, Trojans.

HECTOR.
It's Cassandra.

Enter Cassandra, ranting.

CASSANDRA.
Cry, Trojans, cry. Give me ten thousand eyes,
And I'll fill them with prophetic tears.

HECTOR.
Chill out, sis, chill out.

CASSANDRA.
Young people and old folks, middle-aged and wrinkled elders,
Soft little ones, who can only cry,
Join in my screams. Let's get ahead of the game
And share a part of that huge outcry to come.
Cry, Trojans, cry. Train your eyes to weep.
Troy must fall, and beautiful Ilion must not stand;
Our troublemaking brother, Paris, is setting us all on fire.
Cry, Trojans, cry, A Helen and a disaster!
Cry, cry. Troy is burning, or else let Helen go.

[Log Out.]

HECTOR.
Now, young Troilus, do these lofty feelings
Of prophecy about our sister stir
Any feelings of regret in you? Or is your blood
So boiling that no sound reasoning,
Nor fear of failure in a losing battle,
Can calm you down?

TROILUS.
Look, brother Hector,
We shouldn’t judge the fairness of our actions
Based solely on how things turn out;
Nor let Cassandra’s madness bring us down.
Her deranged visions
Can’t ruin the worth of a conflict
That involves all our honors.
For my part,
I'm no more affected than any of Priam’s sons;
And may the gods prevent us from doing
Anything that could upset even the slightest spirit
To fight for and defend.

PARIS.
Others might convince the world of being careless
About my efforts as well as your advice;
But I swear to the gods, your full support
Gave me the motivation and removed
All the fears connected with such a risky plan.
For what, sadly, can my single strength do?
What defense can one person's bravery offer
Against the attacks and hostility of those
Whom this conflict would provoke? Yet I insist,
If I had to face the challenges alone,
And had as much power as I have determination,
Paris would never go back on what he has done,
Nor would he lose heart in the chase.

PRIAM.
Paris, you talk
Like someone totally wrapped up in your pleasures.
You still have the sweetness, but also the bitterness;
So being brave is really no compliment at all.

PARIS.
Sir, I’m not just thinking about myself
And the pleasures that such beauty brings;
But I want to ensure the honor of her fair treatment
By protecting her properly.
What a betrayal it would be to the ravaged queen,
A disgrace to your great virtues, and a shame to me,
To hand her over now
Under any kind of forced terms! Can it be,
That such a cowardly feeling as this
Could ever find a place in your noble hearts?
There’s not a single person on our side
Without the courage to fight or the will to wield a sword
When Helen is at stake; nor is there anyone so noble
Whose life wouldn’t be wasted or whose death wouldn’t be regretted,
When Helen is the topic of discussion. So I say,
We have good reason to fight for her, knowing well
That nothing in the world can compare to her.

HECTOR.
Paris and Troilus, you both have made good points;
And on the issue at hand, you’ve made your arguments
But in a shallow way; not unlike young men, whom Aristotle thought
Were unfit to study moral philosophy.
The reasons you give stir up more
The hot emotions of disturbed minds
Than they help reach a clear decision
Between right and wrong; because pleasure and revenge
Are more deaf than snakes to the sound
Of any true judgment. Nature demands
That all dues be given to their rightful owners. Now,
What closer debt exists in all humanity
Than a wife owes to her husband? If this law
Of nature is twisted by affection;
And that great minds, in their partial indulgence
To their dulled desires, resist it;
There is a law in every well-governed nation
To control those raging desires that are
Most disobedient and unruly.
If Helen is, as it is known, the wife of Sparta's king—
Then these moral laws
Of nature and of nations shout
For her to be returned. To continue
In doing wrong doesn't lessen the wrong,
But makes it much heavier. Hector believes
This to be true. Yet, still,
My lively brothers, I lean towards you
In deciding to keep Helen with us;
For it is a matter that greatly affects
Our combined and individual honors.

TROILUS.
Well, there you’ve hit the core of our plan.
If we didn’t care more about glory
Than just venting our frustrations,
I wouldn’t want even a drop of Trojan blood
Wasted defending her. But, noble Hector,
She symbolizes honor and fame,
A motivation for brave and generous actions,
Whose current bravery can defeat our enemies,
And future glory will celebrate us;
Because I assume courageous Hector wouldn’t want to miss
Such a valuable chance for promised fame
That shines brightly from this endeavor
For the entire world to see.

HECTOR.
I am yours,
You brave child of great Priamus.
I’ve sent a stirring challenge among
The dull and quarrelsome nobles of the Greeks
That will amaze their sleepy spirits.
I heard that their great general is asleep,
While rivalry creeps through the army.
I suppose this will wake him.

[Leave the stage.]

Enter Thersites, alone.

THERSITES.
What’s up, Thersites? Lost in your anger? Is Ajax really going to keep pushing me around like this? He hits me, and I just insult him back. What a satisfying situation! I wish it were different: I’d love to be the one hitting him while he insults me! Damn it, I’ll learn to summon demons if it means I can get some kind of revenge. And then there’s Achilles, a real strategist! If Troy isn’t taken down until those two get involved, its walls will stand until they crumble on their own. Oh, mighty thunder god of Olympus, forget that you’re Jupiter, the king of the gods, and, Mercury, shed all the deceptive tricks of your staff if you don’t take away that tiny bit of wit from those who have it! Even the most ignorant know that it’s so rare it's not even enough to save a fly from a spider without pulling out weapons and cutting the web. After that, let’s unleash vengeance on the whole camp! Or maybe just the Neapolitan heartache! Because that seems to be the curse for those who fight over a piece of clothing. I’ve said my prayers; may the devil of Envy say ‘Amen.’ Hey! My Lord Achilles!

Enter Patroclus.

PATROCLUS.
Who’s there? Thersites! Hey Thersites, come in and rant.

THERSITES.
If I could've remembered a fake gold coin, you wouldn't have slipped my mind; but it doesn't matter; just focus on yourself! The common curse of humanity, foolishness and ignorance, be yours in large quantities! May heaven protect you from a teacher, and may discipline stay far away from you! Let your blood guide you until you die. Then, if the person who prepares your body for burial says you're a good-looking corpse, I'll swear she has only ever prepared the bodies of beggars. Amen. Where's Achilles?

PATROCLUS.
What, are you religious? Were you praying?

THERSITES.
Yeah, the heavens hear me!

PATROCLUS.
Amen.

Enter Achilles.

ACHILLES.
Who's there?

PATROCLUS.
Thersites, my dude.

ACHILLES.
Where, where? Oh, where have you been? Why, my friend, my stomach, why haven't you brought yourself to my table for so many meals? So, what's up with Agamemnon?

THERSITES.
Your commander, Achilles. So tell me, Patroclus, who is Achilles?

PATROCLUS.
Your lord, Thersites. So, tell me, please, who is Thersites?

THERSITES.
Your knowledgeable one, Patroclus. So tell me, Patroclus, who are you?

Patroclus.
You must tell those who know.

ACHILLES.
Oh, tell me,

THERSITES.
I’m not getting into this. Agamemnon is in charge of Achilles; Achilles is my boss; I know Patroclus; and Patroclus is an idiot.

PATROCLUS.
You troublemaker!

THERSITES.
Hold on, idiot! I’m not finished.

ACHILLES.
He's a privileged guy. Go ahead, Thersites.

THERSITES.
Agamemnon is an idiot; Achilles is an idiot; Thersites is an idiot; and, like I said, Patroclus is an idiot.

ACHILLES.
Get this; come.

THERSITES.
Agamemnon is an idiot for trying to lead Achilles; Achilles is an idiot for letting Agamemnon lead him; Thersites is an idiot for serving such an idiot; and this Patroclus is definitely a fool.

PATROCLUS.
Why am I such a fool?

THERSITES.
Make that request to the Creator. I'm good enough with just you being here. Hey, who’s coming this way?

Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Nestor, Diomedes, Ajax and Calchas.

ACHILLES.
Come on, Patroclus, I don’t want to talk to anyone else. Come in with me, Thersites.

[Leave.]

THERSITES.
This is such trickery, such deceit, and such dishonesty. The whole debate is about a prostitute and a cheated husband—a great fight to stir up rival groups and let them bleed out. Now the pointless arguments about the topic, and war and lust mix everything up!

[Leave.]

AGAMEMNON.
Where's Achilles?

PATROCLUS.
In his tent; but not in a good mood, my lord.

AGAMEMNON.
Let him know we're here.
He dismissed our messengers, and we're putting aside
Our belongings to pay him a visit.
He should be informed of this; otherwise, he might think
We're afraid to address our position
Or that we don't understand who we are.

PATROCLUS.
I'll let him know.

[Log Out.]

ULYSSES.
We saw him at the entrance of his tent.
He is not unwell.

AJAX.
Yes, sick of lions, tired of a proud heart. You can call it melancholy if you want to be nice to the guy; but, honestly, it's pride. But why, why? Let him give us a reason. One word, my lord.

[Takes Agamemnon aside.]

NESTOR.
What makes Ajax react like this towards him?

ULYSSES.
Achilles has tricked his fool into leaving him.

NESTOR.
Who, Thersites?

ULYSSES.
He.

NESTOR.
Then Ajax will have nothing to say if he has lost his argument.

ULYSSES.
No; you see, it's his argument that has his argument, Achilles.

NESTOR.
That's even better; their group aligns more with what we want than their side. But it was a strong bond that even a fool could break!

ULYSSES.
The friendship that wisdom creates can easily be broken by foolishness.

Re-enter Patroclus.

Here comes Patroclus.

NESTOR.
No Achilles around.

ULYSSES.
The elephant has joints, but none for politeness; his legs are for function, not for bending.

PATROCLUS.
Achilles asks me to say he's really sorry
If anything more than your fun and enjoyment
Made you reach out to him; he hopes it’s nothing more
Than for your health and digestion,
Just a casual chat after dinner.

AGAMEMNON.
Listen, Patroclus.
We know these responses too well;
But his avoidance, swift as it is with disdain,
Can't escape our awareness.
He has many attributes, and there's a good reason
Why we attribute them to him. Yet all his virtues,
Not seen as genuinely his,
Start to lose their shine in our eyes;
Yes, like beautiful fruit in a rotten bowl,
They're likely to spoil if left untouched. Go and tell him
We're here to speak with him; and you won't be wrong
If you say we think he’s too proud
And not honest enough, acting more self-important
Than he truly is; and more deserving than he realizes,
Given the harsh weirdness he puts on,
Hiding the true strength of their authority,
And observing in a way
His peculiar dominance; yes, watch
His pace and timing, his ups and downs, as if
The whole journey and flow of this situation
Rides on his wave. Go tell him this, and add
That if he pushes his worth so much
We won’t deal with him, but let him, like a machine
That can't be moved, be left to this reputation:
Bring action here; this can't go to war.
We give a little leeway to a feisty dwarf
Before a huge sleeping giant. Tell him that.

PATROCLUS.
I will, and I'll bring his answer right away.

[Log out.]

AGAMEMNON.
We’re not going to be satisfied with a second voice;
We’re here to speak with him. Ulysses, come in.

[Leave Ulysses.]

AJAX.
What makes him any different from anyone else?

AGAMEMNON.
No more than what he believes he is.

AJAX.
Is he really that great? Don't you think he believes he's a better man than I am?

AGAMEMNON.
Definitely.

AJAX.
Will you agree with his idea and say he is?

AGAMEMNON.
No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as brave, as smart, no less noble, much gentler, and all around more easy to manage.

AJAX.
Why should a man be proud? How does pride develop? I don't know what pride is.

AGAMEMNON.
You think more clearly, Ajax, and your qualities are more admirable. A proud person only destroys themselves. Pride is their own mirror, their own horn, their own story; and whatever boasts about itself but doesn't act on it ultimately consumes the action in the boasting.

Re-enter Ulysses.

AJAX.
I hate a proud man just as much as I hate the breeding of toads.

NESTOR.
[Aside.] And yet he loves himself: isn't that strange?

ULYSSES.
Achilles won't go to the field tomorrow.

AGAMEMNON.
What’s his reason?

ULYSSES.
He relies on no one;
But goes with the flow of his own choice,
Without noticing or respecting anyone,
In his unique will and self-acknowledgment.

AGAMEMNON.
Why won't he, at our reasonable request,
Come out and share the air with us?

ULYSSES.
He makes tiny things seem huge, just to ask for them,
He's consumed by a sense of greatness,
And talks not to himself but with a pride
That challenges his very breath. His imagined worth
Fuel his boiling and heated thoughts
That between his mind and actions,
Achilles, the king, rages in turmoil,
And brings himself down. What should I say?
He's so annoyingly proud that the signs of his downfall
Shout ‘No coming back.’

AGAMEMNON.
Let Ajax go to him.
My lord, please go and greet him in his tent.
It's said he thinks highly of you; and he will be willing
To step back a little at your request.

ULYSSES.
Oh Agamemnon, don’t let it be like that!
We’ll honor the steps Ajax takes
When he leaves Achilles. Should the arrogant lord
Who inflates his pride with his own actions
And never lets the world's affairs
Enter his mind, except for what he thinks
And dwells on himself—should he be worshipped
By those who we consider an idol more than him?
No, this truly worthy and courageous lord
Should not tarnish his honor, nobly earned,
Nor, by my choice, diminish his worth,
As well-titled as Achilles is,
By going to Achilles.
That would only swell his already inflated pride,
And add more fuel to the fire when he burns
With entertaining great Hyperion.
This lord should go to him! Jupiter forbid,
And say with a thunder, ‘Achilles go to him.’

NESTOR.
[Aside.] Oh, this is good! He rubs his arm.

DIOMEDES.
[Aside] And how his silence soaks up this applause!

AJAX.
If I go to him, I'll hit him in the face with my fist.

AGAMEMNON.
Oh, no, you can't leave.

AJAX.
If I make him proud, he'll feel pleased with me.
Let me go to him.

ULYSSES.
Not for the value that depends on our argument.

AJAX.
A pathetic, rude guy!

NESTOR.
[Aside.] What a self-description!

AJAX.
Can't he be more social?

ULYSSES.
[Aside.] The raven mocks darkness.

AJAX.
I'll let his humor flow.

AGAMEMNON.
[Aside.] He’ll be the doctor who should be the patient.

AJAX.
And all the guys shared my thoughts—

ULYSSES.
[Aside.] Humor would be out of style.

AJAX.
He shouldn’t handle it that way; he should take back his words first.
Should pride take precedence?

NESTOR.
[Aside.] And you would, you’d take half.

ULYSSES.
[Aside.] I would like to have ten shares.

AJAX.
I’ll shape him, I’ll make him flexible.

NESTOR.
[Aside.] He’s not ready yet. Give him compliments; keep them coming; his ambition is lacking.

ULYSSES.
[To Agamemnon.] My lord, you dwell too much on this resentment.

NESTOR.
Our esteemed general, please don't do that.

DIOMEDES.
You need to get ready to fight without Achilles.

ULYSSES.
Why, this name does him damage.
Here is a man—but it’s in front of him;
I will hold my tongue.

NESTOR.
Why would you do that?
He is not jealous like Achilles is.

ULYSSES.
Knowing the whole world, he is just as brave.

AJAX.
A worthless dog, who plays games with us like this!
I wish he were a Trojan!

NESTOR.
What a shame it would be for Ajax now—

ULYSSES.
If he was proud.

DIOMEDES.
Or hungry for praise.

ULYSSES.
Yeah, or grumpily carried.

DIOMEDES.
Either weird or self-absorbed.

ULYSSES.
Thank the heavens, lord, you are so calm.
Praise the person who made you, and the one who fed you;
Famous be your teacher, and your natural abilities
Three times more renowned, beyond all knowledge;
But he who trained your arms to fight—
Let Mars split eternity in two
And give him half; and, for your strength,
Bull-bearing Milo should yield his share
To strong Ajax. I won’t praise your wisdom,
Which, like a brook, a fence, a shore, limits
Your vast and expanded abilities. Here’s Nestor,
Educated by ancient times—
He must be wise; he is, he cannot help but be wise;
But forgive me, Father Nestor, if your days
Were as vigorous as Ajax's and your mind so sharp,
You should not surpass him,
But be like Ajax.

AJAX.
Should I call you dad?

NESTOR.
Yeah, my good son.

DIOMEDES.
Let him lead, Ajax.

ULYSSES.
There's no time to waste; Achilles is hiding in the woods.
Let's have our great leader gather all his forces;
New kings have arrived at Troy. Tomorrow
We must stand strong with all our power;
And here’s a lord—knights are coming from everywhere
And gathering their best; Ajax will fight the hardest.

AGAMEMNON.
Let’s head to the council. Let Achilles rest.
Light boats sail quickly, even though larger ships need deeper waters.

[Exit.]

Music plays inside. Enter Pandarus and a Servant.

PANDARUS.
Hey, friend, can I have a word? Aren't you following the young Lord Paris?

SERVANT.
Yes, sir, when he walks in front of me.

PANDARUS.
So you rely on him, is that what you're saying?

SERVANT.
Sir, I do rely on the Lord.

PANDARUS.
You rely on a distinguished man; I really have to commend him.

SERVANT.
Praise the Lord!

PANDARUS.
You know who I am, right?

SERVANT.
Honestly, sir, just on the surface.

PANDARUS.
Friend, let me introduce myself: I am Lord Pandarus.

SERVANT.
I hope to get to know you better.

PANDARUS.
I really want it.

SERVANT.
Are you in a state of grace?

PANDARUS.
Beauty? Not really, my friend; honor and nobility are my titles. What kind of music is this?

SERVANT.
I only know a little, sir; it's music in sections.

PANDARUS.
Do you know the musicians?

SERVANT.
Absolutely, sir.

PANDARUS.
Who are they playing for?

SERVANT.
To the audience, sir.

PANDARUS.
Whose pleasure is it, friend?

SERVANT.
At my place, sir, and for those who love music.

PANDARUS.
Order, I mean, buddy.

SERVANT.
Who should I command, sir?

PANDARUS.
Friend, we don’t really understand each other: I’m too formal, and you’re too clever. Who asked for these men to perform?

SERVANT.
That's right, sir. Well, sir, at the request of Paris my lord, who is right there in person; with him is the mortal Venus, the essence of beauty, love’s hidden spirit—

PANDARUS.
Who, my cousin, Cressida?

SERVANT.
No, sir, Helen. Couldn't you figure that out by her qualities?

PANDARUS.
It seems, my friend, that you haven't met Lady Cressida. I'm here to talk to Paris on behalf of Prince Troilus; I'm going to make a polite advance toward him because my business is urgent.

SERVANT.
Wet business! That's quite a cooked-up phrase!

Enter Paris and Helen, attended.

PANDARUS.
Good day to you, my lord, and to all this lovely company! May pleasant desires, in all the right amounts, lead them well—especially to you, lovely queen! May beautiful thoughts be your restful pillow.

HELEN.
Wow, you really know how to speak beautifully.

PANDARUS.
You express your lovely feelings, sweet queen. Fair prince, this is nice broken music.

PARIS.
You've broken it, cousin; and I swear, you will fix it again; you'll patch it up with part of your performance.

HELEN.
He is all about harmony.

PANDARUS.
Honestly, no, my lady.

HELEN.
Oh, sir—

PANDARUS.
Rude, for real; seriously, very rude.

PARIS.
Well said, my lord. You express that in bursts.

PANDARUS.
I have something to discuss with my lord, dear queen. My lord, can you spare me a moment to talk?

HELEN.
No, this won't stop us. We’ll definitely hear you sing—

PANDARUS.
Well, sweet queen, you're being nice to me. But, really, my lord: my dear lord and beloved friend, your brother Troilus—

HELEN.
My Lord Pandarus, sweet lord—

PANDARUS.
Come on, sweet queen, come on—he sends his warmest regards to you—

HELEN.
You’re not going to ruin our song. If you do, we’ll bring our sadness down on you!

PANDARUS.
Sweet queen, sweet queen; that’s a sweet queen, I swear.

HELEN.
Making a sweet lady sad is a terrible offense.

PANDARUS.
No, that won't work for you; it really won't, honestly. I don't care about those words; no way. —And, my lord, he asks you that if the King calls for him at dinner, you will make his apologies.

HELEN.
My Lord Pandarus!

PANDARUS.
What does my lovely queen say, my truly lovely queen?

PARIS.
What adventure is he up to? Where is he having dinner tonight?

HELEN.
No, my lord—

PANDARUS.
What does my sweet queen say?—My cousin is going to have a fight with you.

HELEN.
You probably don't know where he's having dinner.

PARIS.
I'll risk my life for my love, Cressida.

PANDARUS.
No, no, that's not the case; you're mistaken. Come on, the person in charge is unwell.

PARIS.
Well, I’ll make an excuse.

PANDARUS.
Yeah, my lord. Why do you mention Cressida?
No, your unfortunate planner is unwell.

PARIS.
I see you.

PANDARUS.
You see something! What do you see?—Come on, hand me an instrument. Now, sweet queen.

HELEN.
Wow, that's really nice.

PANDARUS.
My niece is completely infatuated with something you possess, sweet queen.

HELEN.
She will have it, my lord, unless it's my Lord Paris.

PANDARUS.
He? No, she doesn’t want anything to do with him; they’re two different people.

HELEN.
Falling in, after falling out, might make them three.

PANDARUS.
Come on, enough of this; I'm going to sing you a song now.

HELEN.
Yes, yes, please now. Honestly, my dear lord, you have a lovely forehead.

PANDARUS.
Yes, you can, you can.

HELEN.
Let your song be love. This love will unravel us all. Oh Cupid, Cupid, Cupid!

PANDARUS.
Love! Yes, it certainly will, I swear.

PARIS.
Ah, come on now, love, love, just love.

PANDARUS.
Honestly, it begins like this.

[Singing.]

Love, love, nothing but love, still love, even more!
     For, oh, love’s bow
    Shoots both the buck and the doe;
      The arrow confuses
       Not because it hurts,
     But still tickles the pain.
   These lovers cry, Oh no, they’re dying!
      Yet what seems to be a fatal wound
   Turns Oh no! into ha! ha! he!
      So even dying love keeps going.
   Oh no! for a moment, but ha! ha! ha!
   Oh no! groans out for ha! ha! ha!—hey ho!

HELEN.
In love, I swear, to the very tip of my nose.

PARIS.
He only eats doves, my love; and that creates passionate blood, and passionate blood leads to passionate thoughts, and passionate thoughts lead to passionate actions, and passionate actions are love.

PANDARUS.
Is this what love is all about: intense passion, fiery thoughts, and bold actions? Seriously, they’re like snakes. Is love just a bunch of snakes? Sweet lord, who’s out and about today?

PARIS.
Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the bravery of Troy. I would have loved to arm up today, but my Nell wouldn’t let me. Why didn’t my brother Troilus come?

HELEN.
He’s making a face at something. You know everything, Lord Pandarus.

PANDARUS.
Not me, sweet queen. I really want to know how they're spending today. Do you remember your brother's excuse?

PARIS.
To the last detail.

PANDARUS.
Goodbye, sweet queen.

HELEN.
Say hi to your niece for me.

Sure, my sweet queen.

[Fall back. Sound the retreat.]

PARIS.
They've come from the field. Let's go to Priam’s hall
To greet the warriors. Sweet Helen, I need you
To help take off Hector’s armor. His stubborn buckles,
Touched by your delicate white fingers,
Will yield more easily than to the edge of steel
Or the strength of Greek warriors; you’ll achieve more
Than all the kings of the island—disarm great Hector.

HELEN.
It’ll make us proud to be his servant, Paris;
Yes, what he gets from us in duty
Gives us more recognition in beauty than we have,
Yes, it outshines us.

PARIS.
Sweet, I love you more than I can express.

[Exit.]

Enter Pandarus and Troilus' Boy, meeting.

PANDARUS.
Hey! Where's your master? At my cousin Cressida's?

BOY.
No, sir; he’s waiting for you to take him there.

Enter Troilus.

PANDARUS.
Oh, here he comes. What's up, what's up?

TROILUS.
Hey, just walk away.

[Exit Boy.]

PANDARUS.
Have you seen my cousin?

TROILUS.
No, Pandarus. I hang around her door
Like a lost soul on the shores of the Styx
Waiting for a ride. Oh, be my Charon,
And give me a quick trip to these fields
Where I can indulge in the lily beds
Designed for the deserving! Oh kind Pandar,
pluck Cupid's colorful wings from his shoulder,
and fly with me to Cressid!

PANDARUS.
Come to the orchard, I'll go get her right away.

[Leave.]

TROILUS.
I'm buzzing; anticipation spins me around.
The imagined pleasure is so delightful
That it captivates my senses; what will it be
When my watery mouth truly tastes
Love’s triple-refined nectar? I dread it;
Sounding destruction; or maybe a joy too exquisite,
Too subtle and powerful, tuned too sharply in sweetness,
For my rougher abilities to handle.
I'm really worried about it; and I also fear
That I’ll lose clarity in my joys;
Like a battle when the enemy flees
And they charge in heaps.

Re-enter Pandarus.

PANDARUS.
She’s getting ready; she’ll be here soon. You need to be clever now. She’s blushing and breathing so quickly, it’s like she’s scared by a ghost. I’ll go get her. She’s the cutest little troublemaker; she’s catching her breath like a just-caught sparrow.

[Log out.]

TROILUS.
Even such a passion fills my heart.
My heart races faster than a fevered pulse,
And all my strength slips away,
Like servants caught off guard
By the gaze of royalty.

Re-enter Pandarus with Cressida.

PANDARUS.
Come on, what are you blushing for? Shame is just a little thing. Here she is now; swear those oaths to her that you swore to me. —What, are you backing off again? You need to be watched before you can be tamed, don’t you? Come on, come on; if you keep pulling back, we’ll have to force you. Why don’t you talk to her? Come on, draw this curtain and let’s see your face. Oh dear, how reluctant you are to face the light! If it were dark, you'd close the curtain faster. Alright, keep going, and kiss the lady. How about that, a kiss in exchange for everything! Settle in there, builder; the air is nice. No, you’ll have to fight it out before I let you go. The falcon and the male falcon, despite all the ducks in the river. Come on, come on.

TROILUS.
You've left me speechless, my lady.

PANDARUS.
Words won't settle debts, so show her actions; but she'll take away your actions too if she questions what you've done. What, flirting again? Here’s 'In witness whereof the parties exchange.' Come in, come in; I’ll go get a fire.

[Leave.]

CRESSIDA.
Are you coming in, my lord?

TROILUS.
Oh Cressid, how many times have I wished for this!

CRESSIDA.
I wish, my lord! May the gods grant it—Oh my lord!

TROILUS.
What should they give? What’s with this strange interruption? What overly critical detail does my sweet lady see in the fountain of our love?

CRESSIDA.
More leftovers than anything else, if my fears can see.

TROILUS.
Fears turn angels into demons; they can never see clearly.

CRESSIDA.
Blind fear, which is guided by reason, finds a steadier path than blind reason that stumbles without fear. To be afraid of the worst often helps to avoid the worst.

TROILUS.
Oh, let my lady feel no fear! In all of Cupid’s display, there is no monster.

CRESSIDA.
Or nothing weird either?

TROILUS.
Nothing, but our commitments when we promise to cry oceans, live in flames, eat stones, and tame wild animals; believing it's harder for our lady to come up with enough challenges than for us to handle any difficulties she imposes. This is the absurdity of love, lady, that the will is limitless, and the ability to act is restricted; that desire knows no bounds, yet the act is limited.

CRESSIDA.
They say all lovers promise more than they can deliver, yet hold back abilities they never show; swearing more than the total brilliance of ten, and delivering less than a tenth of one. Those who have the roar of lions but the actions of hares, aren’t they monsters?

TROILUS.
Are there really people like that? We are not. Appreciate us for who we are, and let us be judged by our actions; we'll keep our heads uncovered until we earn our crowns. No past achievements deserve praise in the present. We won't talk about someone deserving before they've even been born; and once they are born, any title they receive should be modest. A few words to express sincere belief: Troilus will be to Cressid what even the worst envy can only mock compared to his loyalty; and no truth can express itself more accurately than Troilus.

CRESSIDA.
Are you coming in, my lord?

Re-enter Pandarus.

PANDARUS.
What, still blushing? Haven't you finished talking yet?

CRESSIDA.
Well, uncle, whatever mistake I make, I dedicate it to you.

PANDARUS.
Thanks for that; if my lord has a son with you, you’ll give him to me. Stay true to my lord; if he backs down, blame me for it.

TROILUS.
You now know your hostages: your uncle's promise and my strong belief.

PANDARUS.
No, I’ll vouch for her too: our relatives, even though they take a while to be courted, they do remain loyal once they are won over; they’re like burs, I can tell you; they’ll stick wherever they land.

CRESSIDA.
I feel bold now, and it gives me courage.
Prince Troilus, I’ve loved you day and night
For many exhausting months.

TROILUS.
Why was it so difficult to win Cressid then?

CRESSIDA.
It's hard to pretend I wasn't won over, my lord,
Because I truly was with the first glance—please forgive me.
If I admit too much, you'll be domineering.
I love you now, but until now, not as much
That I could control it. Honestly, I’m lying;
My thoughts were like unruly children, growing
Too strong-willed for their mother. Look at us, fools!
Why did I spill my secrets? Who can be true to us,
When we can't even keep our own secrets?
But even though I loved you well, I never pursued you;
And yet, honestly, I wished I were a man,
Or that we women had men’s advantage
Of speaking first. Sweetheart, tell me to be quiet,
Because in this excitement, I will definitely say
Something I will regret. Look, look, your silence,
Cunning in its quietness, draws
My very soul of advice from my weakness. Stop me from talking.

TROILUS.
And it will, even though beautiful music comes from there.

PANDARUS.
Pretty, I swear.

CRESSIDA.
My lord, please forgive me;
I didn’t mean to ask for a kiss like that.
I’m so embarrassed. Oh my gosh! What have I done?
This time, I’ll take my leave, my lord.

TROILUS.
Take care, sweet Cressid!

PANDARUS.
Go! And you can leave until tomorrow morning—

CRESSIDA.
Please be satisfied.

TROILUS.
What bothers you, lady?

CRESSIDA.
Sir, my own company.

TROILUS.
You can't run from yourself.

CRESSIDA.
Let me go and see what happens.
There's a part of me that stays with you;
But a hurtful part that will leave
To become someone else's fool. I want to leave.
Where's my sense? I don't even know what I'm saying.

TROILUS.
They really know what they’re talking about when they speak so wisely.

CRESSIDA.
Maybe, my lord, I show more skill than affection;
And fell so openly into a big confession
To fish for your feelings; but you are clever—
Or else you don't truly love; because to be smart and love
Is beyond what a person can do; that’s something for the gods above.

TROILUS.
Oh, if only I believed it could exist in a woman—
Because if it can, I would hope for it in you—
To always nourish her love's light and warmth;
To maintain her loyalty in hardship and youth,
Surpassing the fading of beauty with a mind
That renews faster than blood ages!
Or if persuasion could just convince me
That my honesty and loyalty to you
Could be challenged by the true weight
Of such a refined purity in love.
How uplifting that would be! But, unfortunately,
I am as loyal as simplicity in truth,
And more naïve than the beginnings of truth.

CRESSIDA.
In that, I’ll fight with you.

TROILUS.
Oh, noble struggle,
When the right fights against the right, who will be the most righteous?
Genuine lovers in the next world
Will prove their loyalty through Troilus, when their poems,
Full of claims, vows, and grand comparisons,
Lack metaphors, truth exhausted from repetition—
As true as steel, as plants reaching for the moon,
As the sun to the day, as a turtle to her mate,
As iron to diamond, as earth to the center—
Yet, after all comparisons of truth,
To be cited as the true source of truth,
‘As true as Troilus’ will elevate the verse
And sanctify the lines.

CRESSIDA.
You may be a prophet!
If I am lying or stray even slightly from the truth,
When the ages have passed and forgotten themselves,
When raindrops have worn down the stones of Troy,
And complete forgetfulness has swallowed cities,
And powerful nations have faded into nothingness,
Yet let memory,
In its comparisons among unfaithful lovers,
Accuse my dishonesty when they say ‘As false
As air, as water, wind, or sandy earth,
As a fox to a lamb, or a wolf to a calf,
A leopard to a doe, or a stepmother to her son’—
Yes, let them say, to drive home the idea of dishonesty,
‘As false as Cressid.’

PANDARUS.
Alright, it's a deal; seal it, seal it; I’ll be the witness. Here I hold your hand; here’s my cousin’s. If either of you ever betrays the other, since I’ve worked so hard to bring you together, let all deceitful go-betweens be named after me—call them all Pandars; let all loyal men be called Troiluses, all unfaithful women Cressids, and all brokers be called Pandars. Say ‘Amen.’

TROILUS.
Amen.

Cressida.
Amen.

PANDARUS.
Amen. Now, let me show you a room and a bed; and since this bed won't reveal your lovely moments together, make full use of it. Go!

[Troilus and Cressida exit.]

And may Cupid help all the shy girls here,
Bed, room, and someone to set this up!

[Leave.]

Flourish. Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Diomedes, Nestor, Ajax, Menelaus and Calchas.

CALCHAS.
Now, Princes, after the service I’ve provided,
The timing pushes me to boldly ask
For my reward. Just think about it:
Because of my foresight into the future,
I’ve left Troy, given up my home,
Taken on the label of a traitor, risked myself
From certain comforts
To uncertain fortunes, cutting myself off from
Everything that time, familiarity, and routine
Had made comfortable and familiar to me;
And here, to serve you, I’ve become
As if I’m new to the world, strange, and unaccustomed—
I sincerely ask you, as a small favor,
To grant me a little benefit
From those many promises you’ve made
That you say will come to my aid.

AGAMEMNON.
What do you want from us, Trojan? Just ask.

CALCHAS.
You have a Trojan prisoner named Antenor,
who was taken yesterday; Troy values him highly.
You’ve often thanked me for this—
You wanted my Cressid in a significant trade,
but Troy has always refused; however, this Antenor,
I know, is so crucial to their situation
that all their negotiations will falter
without his input; they will almost
offer us a royal prince, a son of Priam,
in exchange for him. Let him be sent, great Princes,
and he will secure my daughter; her presence
will completely erase all the service I’ve given
in the most painful way possible.

AGAMEMNON.
Let Diomedes take him,
And bring us Cressid here. Calchas will get
What he asks of us. Good Diomed,
Prepare yourself well for this exchange;
Also, let us know if Hector will respond
To his challenge tomorrow. Ajax is ready.

DIOMEDES.
I will take this on; and it’s a responsibility
That I’m proud to carry.

[Exit Diomedes and Calchas.]

[Achilles and Patroclus stand in their tent.]

ULYSSES.
Achilles stands at the entrance of his tent.
Our general seems to pass by him strangely,
As if he's been forgotten; and all the princes
Just look at him carelessly and with indifference.
I will come last. He's likely to ask me
Why such unfriendly eyes are focused on him.
If he does, I have a mocking remedy
To use between your awkwardness and his pride,
Which he will want to take in. It might help. Pride has no other reflection
To show itself but pride; for bending knees
Feed arrogance and are the proud man’s rewards.

AGAMEMNON.
We'll carry out your plan and pretend to be strange as we go by.
So will each lord; either ignore him or treat him with disdain,
Which will unsettle him more than if he were simply overlooked. I will take the lead.

ACHILLES.
Why does the general want to talk to me?
You know how I feel. I won't fight against Troy anymore.

AGAMEMNON.
What does Achilles say? Does he want anything to do with us?

NESTOR.
Would you, my lord, like to speak with the general?

ACHILLES.
Nah.

NESTOR.
Nothing, my lord.

AGAMEMNON.
The best.

[Agamemnon and Nestor exit.]

Hey there!

MENELAUS.
How are you? How are you?

[Leave.]

ACHILLES.
What, is the guy who's been cheated on insulting me?

AJAX.
What's up, Patroclus?

Hey, Ajax.

AJAX.
Huh?

ACHILLES.
Good morning.

AJAX.
Yeah, and good day to you too.

[Log Out.]

ACHILLES.
What are these guys thinking? Don’t they know who Achilles is?

PATROCLUS.
They move in a strange way. They used to bow,
To send their smiles ahead to Achilles,
To approach as humbly as they used to crawl
To sacred altars.

ACHILLES.
What, am I poor lately?
It’s true, when greatness has a falling out with fortune,
It often falls out with people too. What someone who has declined is,
They’ll read it in the eyes of others just as easily
As they feel their own decline; because people, like butterflies,
Only show their beautiful wings in the summer;
And no one simply being human
Has any honor, but honor comes from external things
Like status, wealth, and favor,
Random prizes that come as often as they are earned;
When these fall, being unsteady holders,
The love that relied on them gets unsteady too,
Pulling one down after another, and together
They all fall apart. But it’s not like that for me:
Fortune and I are friends; I still enjoy
Everything I used to have
Except for these men’s looks; who, it seems to me, find some
Value in me that doesn’t deserve such praise
As they have often given. Here comes Ulysses.
I’ll interrupt his reading.
What’s up, Ulysses!

ULYSSES.
Now, great Thetis's son!

ACHILLES.
What are you reading?

ULYSSES.
A strange guy here
Writes to me that man—no matter how dearly separated,
Whether rich, poor, or somewhere in between—
Can't really claim to have what he has,
Nor knows what he owes, except by looking back;
Just like when his virtues shine on others
They warm them up, and they send that warmth back
To the original giver.

ACHILLES.
This isn't strange, Ulysses.
The beauty that shines here on the face
The person doesn’t even know, but it reveals itself
To the eyes of others; nor does the eye itself—
That purest essence of perception—see itself,
Not looking inward; but eye to eye facing
Greet each other with each other’s image;
For reflection doesn’t look back at itself
Until it has traveled and is mirrored there
Where it can see itself. This isn’t strange at all.

ULYSSES.
I don't struggle with the position—
It's familiar—but with the author's perspective;
Who, in his situation, clearly shows
That no one truly owns anything,
Even though there's a lot within them,
Until they share their strengths with others;
Nor do they truly understand themselves
Until they see their qualities reflected
In the applause
Where they are acknowledged; who, like an arch, echo
The voice back; or, like a steel gate
Facing the sun, takes in and returns
His image and warmth. I was really caught up in this;
And I instantly grasped
The unknown Ajax. Wow, what a guy!
A real powerhouse who doesn't even know it!
Nature, what things there are
That are seen as lowly yet highly valued!
What things again are held precious
But are worthless! Now we’ll see tomorrow—
An event that pure chance throws his way—
Renowned Ajax. Oh wow, look at what some men do,
While some men choose not to!
How some men sneak into skittish Fortune’s hall,
While others act like fools in her sight!
How one man chips away at another’s pride,
While pride starves in its arrogance!
To see these Greek lords!—already
They’re patting the clumsy Ajax on the shoulder,
As if his foot were on brave Hector’s chest,
And great Troy is crying out.

ACHILLES.
I really believe it; because they walked past me
Like how greedy people ignore beggars, not giving me
A kind word or even a glance. What, are my actions forgotten?

ULYSSES.
Time has, my lord, a bag on his back,
Where he puts donations for forgetfulness,
A huge monster of ungratefulness.
Those scraps are good deeds from the past, which are consumed
As fast as they're done, forgotten just as soon
As they happen. Perseverance, dear my lord,
Keeps honor shining. To have acted is to hang
Completely out of style, like a rusty armor
In a monument's mockery. Take the immediate path;
For honor travels in a way so narrow—
Where one can only go side by side. Keep to the path,
For ambition has a thousand sons
That each pursue; if you give way,
Or sidestep from the direct route,
Like an incoming tide, they all rush past
And leave you behind;
Or, like a noble horse fallen in the front rank,
Be there as pavement for the lowly behind,
Trampled on and overrun. Then what they do in the present,
Though less than what you've done in the past, must surpass yours;
For Time is like a fashionable host,
Who lightly shakes his departing guest by the hand;
And with his arms outstretched, as if he'd fly,
Grabs onto the corner. The welcome always smiles,
And farewell exits with a sigh. Oh, let not virtue seek
Reward for what it was;
For beauty, wit,
Noble birth, physical strength, merit in service,
Love, friendship, charity, are all subjects
To the envy and slander of Time.
One touch of nature makes the whole world family—
That everyone, in unison, praises new-born trinkets,
Though they are made and shaped from things past,
And give to dust that is slightly gilded
More praise than dust heavily gilded.
The present eye praises the present object.
So don’t be surprised, you great and complete man,
That all the Greeks start to admire Ajax,
Since things in motion catch the eye faster
Than what doesn’t move. The call once sounded for you,
And it still could, and it might again,
If you wouldn’t entomb yourself alive
And house your reputation in your tent,
Whose glorious deeds just recently
Made you a rival among the gods themselves,
And drove great Mars to conflict.

ACHILLES.
I have good reasons for wanting to keep this to myself.

ULYSSES.
But against your privacy
The reasons are stronger and noble.
It’s known, Achilles, that you are in love
With one of Priam’s daughters.

ACHILLES.
Ha! Got it!

ULYSSES.
Is that surprising?
The power that’s always watching
Knows almost every bit of gold from Plutus;
Explores the unfathomable depths;
Keeps pace with thought, and almost, like the gods,
Thoughts reveal themselves in their silent beginnings.
There’s a mystery—one that relationships
Dare not touch—in the soul of governance,
Which has a function more divine
Than breath or writing can express.
All the dealings you’ve had with Troy
Are as much ours as they are yours, my lord;
And it would suit Achilles better
To take down Hector than Polyxena.
But it must sadden young Pyrrhus at home,
When fame shall trumpet in our land,
And all the Greek girls shall dance and sing
‘Great Hector’s sister was won by Achilles;
But our great Ajax bravely took him down.’
Goodbye, my lord. I speak as your lover.
The fool skates over the ice that you should break.

[Leave.]

PATROCLUS.
Achilles, this is why I've come to you.
A woman who's brazen and overly masculine
Is not more disliked than a man who's soft
When it’s time for action. I’m being judged for this;
They believe my lack of eagerness for war
And your deep affection for me are holding you back.
Come on, shake it off; and the weak, playful Cupid
Will release his loving grip from around your neck,
And, like a dew-drop slipping off a lion’s mane,
It will scatter into the air.

ACHILLES.
Is Ajax fighting Hector?

PATROCLUS.
Yes, and maybe gain a lot of honor from him.

ACHILLES.
I can see my reputation is at risk;
My fame is cleverly ruined.

PATROCLUS.
Oh, then, watch out:
Those wounds don’t heal well when people harm themselves;
Neglecting what's necessary
Opens the door to a void of danger;
And danger, like a fever, quietly infects
Even when they just sit idly in the sun.

ACHILLES.
Go call Thersites here, sweet Patroclus.
I’ll send the fool to Ajax and ask him
To invite the Trojan lords, after the fight,
To see us here unarmed. I have a woman’s desire,
A longing that’s making me ill,
To see great Hector in his peace clothes;
To talk with him and to look at his face,
Even to my heart's content.

Enter Thersites.

A labor saved!

THERSITES.
Amazingly!

ACHILLES.
What’s up?

THERSITES.
Ajax is running up and down the field, looking for recognition.

ACHILLES.
How's that?

THERSITES.
He has to fight Hector one-on-one tomorrow, and he's so boastfully confident about getting beaten up that he’s going crazy saying nothing.

ACHILLES.
How is that possible?

THERSITES.
Look at him, strutting around like a peacock—he takes a step and then pauses; he thinks like a hostess who can’t do math but relies on her memory to keep track of the bills, biting his lip with a smart look, as if to say, "There’s some cleverness in this head, and it wants to come out." And there is, but it’s as dormant in him as the fire in a flint, which won’t spark without being struck. The guy is doomed; if Hector doesn’t break his neck in battle, he’ll do it himself by boasting. He doesn’t even recognize me. I said, "Good morning, Ajax," and he responds, "Thanks, Agamemnon." What do you think of this guy who mistakes me for the general? He’s become a total dullard, speechless, a freak. What a pain with these opinions! A person can wear them on both sides, like a leather jacket.

ACHILLES.
You have to be my messenger to him, Thersites.

THERSITES.
Who, me? Why, he won’t answer anyone; he claims he doesn’t answer. Talking is for beggars: he carries his tongue like a weapon. I'll take on his role. Let Patroclus bring his requests to me, and you'll see the show of Ajax.

ACHILLES.
To him, Patroclus. Tell him I respectfully ask the brave Ajax to invite the most courageous Hector to come unarmed to my tent and to ensure safe passage for him from the great and most honored Captain General of the Greek army, Agamemnon. Do this.

PATROCLUS.
Jove bless great Ajax!

THERSITES.
Hmm!

PATROCLUS.
I come from the great Achilles—

THERSITES.
Ha!

PATROCLUS.
Who earnestly asks you to invite Hector to his tent—

THERSITES.
Hmm!

PATROCLUS.
And to get safe passage from Agamemnon.

Agamemnon?

PATROCLUS.
Yes, my lord.

THERSITES.
Haha!

PATROCLUS.
What do you say to that?

THERSITES.
Farewell, with all my heart.

PATROCLUS.
Your response, sir.

THERSITES.
If tomorrow is a nice day, by eleven o'clock it will go one way or another. Anyway, he will pay for me before he gets me.

PATROCLUS.
Your response, sir.

THERSITES.
Take care, with all my heart.

ACHILLES.
Why, he's not following this rhythm, is he?

THERSITES.
No, but he’s not in harmony like this. I don’t know what kind of music he'll have in him after Hector knocks his brains out; I’m pretty sure it’ll be none, unless the fiddler Apollo gets his act together.

ACHILLES.
Come on, you’ll deliver a letter to him right away.

THERSITES.
Let me take another to his horse; it's the more capable one.

ACHILLES.
My mind is restless, like a stirred-up fountain;
And I can’t even see the bottom of it.

[Exit Achilles and Patroclus.]

THERSITES.
I wish your mind were clear again so I could tap into it. I’d rather be a tick on a sheep than be this kind of blissfully ignorant brave.

[Leave.]

Enter, at one side, Aeneas and a servant with a torch; at another Paris, Deiphobus, Antenor, Diomedes the Greek, and others, with torches.

PARIS.
Look! Who's that?

DEIPHOBUS.
It's Lord Aeneas.

AENEAS.
Is the Prince here in person?
If I had as good a reason to stay in bed
As you, Prince Paris, nothing but divine matters
Would keep me away from my companion.

DIOMEDES.
That's what I'm thinking too. Good morning, Lord Aeneas.

PARIS.
A brave Greek, Aeneas—shake his hand:
See how your words unfold, where
You mentioned how Diomed, for a whole week,
Kept chasing you in the battlefield.

AENEAS.
Greetings to you, brave sir,
Throughout all discussions of the kind truce;
But when I see you armed, with fierce defiance
As much as the heart can conceive or courage can act.

DIOMEDES.
The one and the other Diomed embraces.
Our bloods are now calm; and here’s to good health!
But when conflict and opportunity arise,
By Jove, I’ll hunt for your life
With all my strength, pursuit, and strategy.

AENEAS.
And you'll hunt a lion that will run away
With its face turned backward. In human kindness,
Welcome to Troy! Now, by Anchises’ life,
Welcome, truly! By Venus’ hand I swear
No man alive can love something he intends to kill
More deeply.

DIOMEDES.
We understand your feelings. Jupiter spared Aeneas,
Unless my sword brings him glory,
For a thousand full cycles of the sun!
But in my competitive honor, let him die
With every joint wounded, and that tomorrow!

AENEAS.
We know each other well.

DIOMEDES.
We do; and we can't wait to get to know each other better.

PARIS.
This is the most spiteful friendly greeting,
The noblest hateful love that I've ever heard of.
What brings you here, my lord, so early?

AENEAS.
I was summoned by the King, but I’m not sure why.

PARIS.
You know why I’m here: I came to bring this Greek
To Calchas’ house and to hand him over,
For the freed Antenor, the beautiful Cressid.
Come with us; or if you prefer,
Get there ahead of us. I truly believe—
Or maybe I should say I’m certain—
My brother Troilus is staying there tonight.
Wake him up and let him know we’re coming,
Along with the whole reason why; I’m worried
We might not get a warm welcome.

AENEAS.
I promise you:
Troilus would prefer Troy to be moved to Greece
than to have Cressid taken away from Troy.

PARIS.
There’s no way out;
The harsh reality of the moment
Is just how it is. Come on, my lord; we’ll follow you.

AENEAS.
Good morning, everyone.

[Leave with servant.]

PARIS.
And tell me, noble Diomed, please be honest,
Even in the spirit of genuine friendship,
Who do you think deserves fair Helen the most,
Me, or Menelaus?

DIOMEDES.
Both are the same:
He deserves to have her if he wants her,
Without worrying about her past,
With all the pain and cost it brings;
And you’re also worthy to keep her if you protect her,
Without being bothered by her dishonor,
With the huge price of losing wealth and friends.
He, like a whiny cuckold, would swallow
The leftovers and waste of a submissive woman;
You, like a sleazy man, from your promiscuous lines
Are happy to produce your heirs.
Both claims balanced, neither weighs more or less,
But he, as he is, weighs heavier because of a whore.

PARIS.
You are too harsh on your fellow countrywoman.

DIOMEDES.
She’s bitter towards her country. Listen to me, Paris:
For every fake tear in her shameless veins
A Greek has lost his life; for every bit
Of her tainted weight
A Trojan has been killed. Since she could talk,
She hasn't uttered as many kind words
As for her Greeks and Trojans who’ve died.

PARIS.
Hey Diomed, you’re acting like vendors do,
Talking down the thing you want to buy;
But we keep this virtue to ourselves,
We won’t praise what we plan to sell.
This is our path.

[Exit.]

Enter Troilus and Cressida.

TROILUS.
Don't worry, it's cold in the morning.

CRESSIDA.
Then, my sweet lord, I’ll call my uncle down;
He’ll unlock the gates.

TROILUS.
Don't disturb him;
It’s time for bed! Sleep will close those lovely eyes,
And bring as gentle a connection to your senses
As babies with no thoughts at all!

CRESSIDA.
Good morning, then.

Troilus.
I beg you now, to bed.

CRESSIDA.
Are you tired of me?

TROILUS.
Oh Cressida! if it weren't for the hectic day,
Awakened by the lark, stirring the raucous crows,
And the dreaming night no longer hiding our joys,
I wouldn't leave you.

CRESSIDA.
The night has been too short.

TROILUS.
Curse that witch! She holds me back with poisonous creatures
As slowly as hell, but escapes the embrace of love
With wings quicker than a fleeting thought.
You'll catch a chill and blame me.

CRESSIDA.
Please wait.
You men will never wait.
Oh, silly Cressida! I could have still held back,
And then you would have waited. Listen! Someone's coming.

PANDARUS.
[Inside.] Why are all the doors open here?

TROILUS.
It's your uncle.

Enter Pandarus.

CRESSIDA.
What a nuisance he is! Now he’ll be making fun of me.
This is going to be so frustrating!

PANDARUS.
Hey, hey! How's it going with the girls?
Hey, you! Where's my cousin Cressid?

CRESSIDA.
Go hang yourself, you cheeky mocking uncle.
You get me to act, and then you mock me too.

PANDARUS.
To do what? To do what? Let her say it.
What have I brought you here to do?

CRESSIDA.
Come on, seriously! You'll never be good or let anyone else be.

PANDARUS.
Ha, ha! Poor thing! Oh, poor little fool! Haven't you slept tonight? Wouldn't he, that naughty guy, let you sleep? A nightmare take him!

CRESSIDA.
Didn’t I tell you? I wish he’d been hit on the head!

One knocks.