Wrinkles Apollo's, and makes pale the morning'. If you'll avouch 'twas wisdom Paris went, As you must need, for you all cry'd—“ Go, go;” Cas. [Within.] Cry, Trojans, cry! Pri. What noise? what shriek is this? Tro. "Tis our mad sister: I do know her voice. Hect. It is Cassandra. Enter CASSANDRA, raving2. Cas. Cry, Trojans, cry! lend me ten thousand eyes, And I will fill them with prophetic tears. Hect. Peace, sister, peace! Cas. Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled eld3, 1 and makes PALE the morning.] The folio reads, " makes stale the morning," which cannot be right. 2 Enter Cassandra, RAVING.] This is the stage-direction of the quartos: the folio, in order to show how her "raving" was exhibited on the stage, has it, "Enter Cassandra, with her hair about her ears." Her entrance is marked too soon in the old copies. 3 — wrinkled ELD,] The quarto reads, "wrinkled elders:" the folio," wrinkled old," which, as Ritson suggests, was probably itself a misprint for eld. Shakespcare, in “Measure for Measure,” Vol. ii. p. 49, has “palsied eld,” and elsewhere he uses "eld" for old age. Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry, [Exit. Hect. Now, youthful Troilus, do not these high strains Of divination in our sister work Some touches of remorse? or is your blood So madly hot, that no discourse of reason, Can qualify the same? Tro. Why, brother Hector, We may not think the justness of each act Par. Else might the world convince of levity*, CONVINCE of levity] i. e. "convict of levity." See Vol. iv. p. 55, where Minsheu is quoted to show that "convince" and convict were sometimes used synonymously. VOL. VI. E To stand the push and enmity of those This quarrel would excite? Yet, I protest, And had as ample power as I have will, Paris should ne'er retract what he hath done, Pri. Par. Sir, I propose not merely to myself On terms of base compulsion? Can it be, Should once set footing in your generous bosoms? Well may we fight for her, whom, we know well, Hect. Paris, and Troilus, you have both said well; And on the cause and question now in hand Have gloz'd, but superficially; not much The reasons you allege do more conduce "Twixt right and wrong; for pleasure, and revenge, Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice. Of any true decision. Nature craves, All dues be render'd to their owners: now, Than wife is to the husband? if this law To have her back return'd: thus to persist In doing wrong extenuates not wrong, But makes it much more heavy. Hector's opinion My spritely brethren, I propend to you In resolution to keep Helen still; For 'tis a cause that hath no mean dependance Upon our joint and several dignities. Tro. Why, there you touch'd the life of our design: Were it not glory that we more affected, Than the performance of our heaving spleens, I would not wish a drop of Trojan blood Spent more in her defence. But, worthy Hector, I am yours, Hect. The dull and factious nobles of the Greeks, Will strike amazement to their drowsy spirits. Whilst emulation in the army crept: This, I presume, will wake him. [Exeunt. SCENE III. The Grecian Camp. Before ACHILLES' Tent. Enter THERSITES. Ther. How now, Thersites! what! lost in the labyrinth of thy fury? Shall the elephant Ajax carry it thus? he beats me, and I rail at him: O worthy satisfaction! would, it were otherwise; that I could beat him, whilst he railed at me. 'Sfoot, I'll learn to conjure and raise devils, but I'll see some issue of my spiteful execrations. Then, there's Achilles, a rare engineer. If Troy be not taken till these two undermine it, the walls will stand till they fall of themselves. O, thou great thunder-darter of Olympus! forget that thou art Jove the king of gods; and, Mercury, lose all the serpentine craft of thy Caduceus, if take not that little, little, less-than-little wit from them that they have; which short-armed ignorance itself knows is so abundant scarce, it will not in circumvention deliver a fly from a spider, without drawing their massy irons and cutting the web. After this, the vengeance on the whole camp! or, rather the Neapolitan bone-ache"; for that, methinks, is the curse dependant on those that war for a placket. I have said my prayers, and devil, envy, say Amen. What, ho! my lord Achilles ! ye 5 or, rather, the Neapolitan bone-ache ;] "Neapolitan" is omitted in the folio. |