University of Virginia Library

SCENE VI.

—Street of huts in the Grecian Camp. The hut or pavilion of Calchas [L.]. That of Achilles supposed to be off R.
Enter Cressida [L.], followed by Cupid, the latter carrying three handsome bouquets.
Cres.
So you, who pass'd yourself off as my cousin,
Are Cupid?

Cupid.
Oh! disguises by the dozen
I in as many seconds can assume.
Just now the shape of Agamemnon's groom
I donn'd, which made him bid me step this way,
With the king's compliments and this bouquet.

[Presents it.
Cres.
His majesty! How very flattering!
[Reads a motto on the bouquet.
“Sweets to the sweet!” Is not that like a king?
So terse, so pointed—above all, so new!

Cupid
[gives another].
This one is from Atrides number two.

Cres.
His brother! Ah! the flow'rs are scarce as fine;
And oh! how much less tasteful in design
Than the dear king's!

Cupid
[aside].
No man of fame I'd rob;
But Agamemnon bought his for a bob,
Ready made up; while t'other, like a ninny,
Composed his own of flow'rs that cost a guinea.
One more.

[Gives third bouquet.
Cres.
[pleased].
From whom is this?

Cupid.
The Pylian sage.

Cres.
The dear old man! Gallant at such an age!
'Bove all I prize the off'ring of wise Nestor!

Cupid
[aside].
Who wisely purchased it for just one tester.

[Cressida can get rid of bouquets by putting them in at the window of her father's pavilion.
Cres.
Has any other Grecian been so bold?
For instance, that young man in white and gold,
With spreading, spangled what's-o'-names.

Cupid
[shaking his head].
Pelides!
E'en to my darts invulnerable his hide is.

Cres.
[trying to conceal her pique].
I'm glad some of them good behaviour know.

Cupid.
I haven't done with my commissions, though.
A letter.

[Gives one.
Cres.
Ha!

Cupid.
From Troilus—I've just met him.

Cres.
[covering her face with shame passionately].
You naughty Cressid! how could you forget him
For e'en a second, with his matchless worth?

Cupid.
A second! Please to add a third and fourth,
A fifth, a sixth, a seventh, eighth, and so on.

Cres.
Well, sir, whose fault is it if I do go on
Somewhat flirtatiously? You've fill'd my heart
With so much love, 'tis like a water-cart
Under a pump—(I fear not your displeasure)—
Whose pipes would burst from sheer hydraulic pressure,
Were they not pierced, with grateful overflow
To drench the little dirty boys below.
Troilus is as the basin of the fountain,
In which my love is pour'd, the sides surmounting.
If some drops overflow, am I to blame
That Diomed holds his mouth to catch the same;
That great Atrides hovers round the brink,
And e'en old Nestor comes to beg a drink?
[Aside].
Achilles don't seem thirsty.

Cupid.
You're a flirt!

Cres.
Who made me one?

Cupid
[aside].
Well, I did. [Aloud.]
Then no hurt
Shall come of it. Pursue the path you're wending:
Love can bring all things to a pleasant ending.
SONG.—Cupid.

[Both off. Darkness has increased. Voices heard in Achilles' tent singing, “For he's a jolly good fellow,” &c. Jingling of glasses.
Enter Patroclus [R.], disguised in the invincible suit of Achilles worn by that chieftain in the lists. The helmet, shield, breastplate, &c., are all much too big for him.
Patro.
They're keeping of it up. I sha'n't be miss'd:
Somehow I never am. Great Hector's twist
At eating than at fighting seems no humbler.
I find, too, he appreciates his tumbler.
[Jingling of glasses within.
Nor does the youthful Troilus deem it sinful
To put away a tolerable skinful.
Ajax the slow goes rather fast to-night,
And the loose Diomed is getting tight.
Swarth Agamemnon's drunk as Nestor snowy,
And Menelaus he's as drunk as Chloe.
Achilles, 'twixt his twelfth and thirteenth grogs,
I humbugg'd into lending me his togs.
In this invulnerable suit e'en I
Must be invincible; at least, I'll try.
[Cressida appears at window, embroidering.
They fit me splendidly in every limb.

Cres.
[musing].
Achilles!

Patro.
There, you see, she thinks I'm him.
[Tenderly.]
Cress—ida!

Cres.
Ha! that shield, that helmet white!
'Tis he himself; but how reduced in height!
Illustrious Achilles—

Patro.
[aside].
Well, it's cheek!
But still here goes. Ma'am?

Cres.
If to you I speak,
As p'rhaps I ought not here alone so late,
'Tis for a question of importance great.
What have you done to make yourself so little?

Patro.
P'rhaps it's the frosty weather makes one brittle,
And bits chip off; or here's where the shoe pinches—
Love, lady, love is killing me by inches,
And half a foot of me is dead already.
[Aside.]
That wasn't bad.

Cres.
Indeed! Pray who's the lady?

Enter Ulysses with a torch [R.], and Troilus.
Ulys.
Stand where the torch may not discover us.

Patro.
Her name is Cressida.

Cres.
Preposterous!

[Drops a flower. Patroclus picks it up and kisses it.
Troi.
She's thrown him out a flower. 'Twas done on purpose.
I'll strangle him—

Ulys.
[restrains].
That Act of Habeas Corpus
Suspend: you know I have your word.

Troi.
Enough!

Patro.
I loved you, lady, at first sight.

Cres.
What stuff!
You Grecian gentlemen are so gallant.

[Drops another flower.
Troi.
Another flower—

Ulys.
Be patient, mon.

Troi.
I can't.

Ulys.
Your promise!

Cres.
Is that all you had to say?

Patro.
That! O dear no, Miss—not by a long way.
[Aside].
I'd got a splendid stock of love expressions,
Some of them old, but a good many fresh 'uns,
Chiefly from songs.

[Tries to remember. Flower dropped.
Troi.
Rage!

Ulys.
Hoot, he's not worth ony!

Patro.
[with sudden passion].
Ever of thee! Maxweltown's braes are bonnie.
Beautiful Venice! bride of ocean flowing,
I had a flow'r within my garden growing,
And of the fact you may not be aware,
I nourish'd it with fond and anxious care—
[Aside].
I'm getting on like steam—which makes me ask,
In case of hollow hearts behind a mask,
Smiling as they were wont to smile before,
That you'll remember me. Stop! there's some more.
[Aside].
Queen of my soul—I've lost the cue, I vow—
I have it—Will you love me then as now?

Cres.
[aside].
Poor fellow! he seems dreadfully heart-broken.
Footsteps! I must retire.

Patro.
Leave me some token
Less perishable than these beauteous flow'rs,
That I may hope—

Troi.
He takes her hand. Great powers!
He kisses it! She lets him!

[Ulysses resisting him.
Cres.
Pray let go—
It's most improper. I insist—

Patro.
First throw
Some trifling keepsake 'gainst my heart to press,
[Aside].
And brag about to-morrow at the mess.

Cres.
Somebody's coming. What will people say?
Bother the man! take that, and get away.

[Throws Troilus's sleeve to him, and slams window in his face. Patroclus sticks it in his helmet with exultation.
Patro.
Of victory I'll sport this as a trophy.

Troi.
[aside].
And in the fight, my friend, I'll knock it off ye;
And see, the head comes with it. As I live,
[Looks at the cuff.
The cuff that I was fool enough to give
To her that tea-time! What a jilt to use so!
And what a muff-at-tea I was to do so.

[Troilus and Ulysses back R.
Patro.
They're breaking up, I see, and come this way:
Their weak nerves to astonish I'll essay.

Enter [R.] Hector, rather “how came you so?” in a gentlemanly way. Achilles, in a dressing-gown, Greek border, and smoking cap, also considerably sprung. Agamemnon, Menelaus, and Nestor, all particularly lively.
Hector
[shaking hands affectionately with Achilles, and (?) lighting a cigar].
Good night, old f'lah!

Achilles.
Care o' yourself, old boy.

Hector.
Now, recollect, my days at home in Troy
While the truce lasts—Frundays and Sidays—no;
Sundays, that's it—and twice a week.

Mene.
[affectionately].
Don't go.

Hector.
Must—business—grave appointments—letters t'write.
Achilles, sha'n't we meet in the next fight?

Achilles.
Coolness between myself and royal party
Makes it impossible. Good night, my hearty.

[Shakes hands, and exit R.
Nestor.
Let's make a night of it.

Hector.
What bricks you are!
P'rhaps a late oyster and a cool cigar—

Troi.
[L. of Hector, taking his arm].
Come home.
[Aside.]
Duty o'er selfish int'rest wins.

Hector.
My little brother Troilus!
[Turns to look at him.
Why, you're twins!

Troi.
'Tis you see two of me.

[Ulysses off, back.
Hector
[crosses gravely to Patroclus, and shakes hands with him].
Good night, Achilles.

Patro.
[aside, delighted].
This of all compliments the greatest still is—
He takes me for him.

Hector.
Why, you've changed your dress.

Troi.
You are mistaken.

Hector.
No.

Troi.
But I say yes.

Hector.
Achilles is in bed by this time.

Troi.
What!
Think you that shield and helmet I've forgot?
I saw them in the lists to-day, and thought
How I should like them the next time we fought.
Suppose we square it now.

[Pugilistic attitude.
Patro.
[alarmed].
Jove and Jove's mother!
[Humbly].
I'm not Achilles.

Hector.
Then, sir, you're another.
I want those arms—they'd fit me to a T.
Those pegtops, too, are just the thing for me.

Patro.
[aside].
What will Achilles say? His fav'rite suit!

Hector
[aside].
I want a row! Here, what's that thing, you brute?

[Snatches sleeve from helmet of Patroclus.
Patro.
Only a gage d'amour. Return it, please.

Hector
[foggily].
I dimly recollect—these muffettees
Troilus I gave for night-work in the trench;
And this, I call to mind, he gave that wench.
What right with Cressid's presents, pray, have you?

Patro.
She gave it—

Hector.
Then I'll give it to you too.

[Knocks him down with a single blow.
Patro.
Murder!

Mene. and Nestor.
Police!

[They run off R.
Troi.
[trying with Æneas to move Hector].
Quick, let us home, my brother.

Hector
[the sleeve in his hand].
No hurry! One good cuff deserves another.

[He floors Patroclus again on that personage's attempting to rise, and deliberately proceeds to strip him of his arms. Rattles heard outside; drums, &c.
SCENA.—Troilus, Hector, and Æneas.
Air—The Steam Arm.
Troi.
I see approach the watchman's lamp:
You've waken'd up the sleeping camp.

Hector.
I don't intend an inch to tramp,
Till with my steam arm I've pummell'd the scamp.
[Pummels the prostrate Patroclus—in Chancery—to chorus.
With a tooral ooral, &c.

[Hector clothes himself in the breastplate, helmet, shield, &c., leaving Patroclus a ridiculous object in the pegtops and red flannel jacket.
Troi.
To think mere wine from Grecian farms
O'er Hector's mind could throw such charms.

Hector
[rising equipped].
I don't care twopence for all alarms,
I've whopp'd Achilles, and stripp'd his arms.
Ri tooral ooral, &c.

[They lead him off L., exulting to chorus. Patroclus remains on the stage immovable, “spread-eagle-wise.”
Morceau de Chœur, Descriptive of the fight for the body of Patroclus.
Air—from “Norma.”
[Some Greek Soldiers, with policemen's capes, hats, and truncheons, run in L., and attempt to take Patroclus into custody. At the same time enter Agamemnon, Nestor, Menelaus, Diomed, Teucer, and Talthybius, in different states of nocturnal dishabille. They almost tear Patroclus (whose nose is discovered bleeding) in half between them.
Chorus.
Greeks.
Guerra! Guerra!
Here's a fearful error!
This is not the individual actually in fault.

Police.
Where are, where are,
Then, the folks to bear a
Charge of aggravated and most violent assault?

Enter Ajax, fiercely [R.].
Ajax.
Wonder! blunder!
Turf, and also thunder!
Why was I not sent for when the mischief was begun?

Police.
Nail him!

Greeks.
Bail him!
Off to lock-ups hale him—

Patro.
Might an 'umble individual ask what he has done?
[Ulysses slips in during this at back. Chorus and strife resumed.
Guerra, &c.

[They continue pulling Patroclus from right to left between them. Music stops suddenly.
Enter Achilles [R.], violently excited.
Achilles.
Speak! is it true?

Patro.
[showing himself deplorably].
Here's evidence of worth!

Achilles.
Oh, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth!
My faithful toady! imitating me,
Got you your head punch'd?

Patro.
Slightly, as you see.
I fared myself but badly, I confess, at it.
That isn't half the worst, though.

Achilles.
Humph! I guess at it.

Patro.
Your armour has been stolen, and your “pegs”
Damaged considerably about the legs.

Achilles.
Merciful heaven!

[à la Macduff.
Ulys.
What! Upon your brow, sirs,
Ne'er pull your hat like that.

Achilles.
He has no trousers!
What! all my toilette, framed on such a plan,
At one fell swoop!

Ulys.
Dispute it like a man.

Achilles.
I shall do so, but feel it must likewise—
Oh! I could play the woman with my eyes,
And braggart with my tongue—save such a pair!
[Weeps.
I cannot but remember such things were.
But mighty Jove, cut short all intermission!
Swift, front to front, in active opposition,
Bring me instanter with this fiend of Ilion!

Aga.
I'll back you, if you'll fight, for half a million.

Achilles.
Fight! I'll do nothing else while I have breath.

[Thetis rises close to him, with a new suit of armour, shield, &c.
Thetis.
Then put these things on, or you'll get your death.

Achilles.
Mamma, I really wish you wouldn't bother.

Thetis.
That's how he always treats his anxious mother!

Achilles.
Dissolve the truce at once—the town I'll storm!

Thetis
[offering breastplate].
But put this on: you ought to wrap up warm.

Achilles
[going L.].
At once I'll see my myrmidons enroll'd.

[Exit L.
Thetis
[following].
Achilles, take the shield, or you'll take cold.

[Exit after him.
[The Greeks assume warlike attitudes. Ajax off. Ulysses beckons them round him, and sings.
Air—Johnny Cope.
Chorus—“Bronze Horse.”

[Music stops suddenly, as they are moving off L.
Enter Homer [R.].
Homer.
Stop! Is it settled we're to mount the horse?

Aga.
It is.

Homer.
Then my suggestion comes, of course.
[Sings.

[Chorus, to take them off.