Hec. Brother, she is not worth what she do:h
Troi. What is aught, but as 'tis valued?
Hec. But value dwells not in particular will:
It holds his estimate and dignity
As well wherein 'tis precious of itself
As in the prizer: 'tis mad idolatry,
To make the service greater than the god;
And the will dotes, that is attributive
To what infectiously itself affects,
Without some image of the affected merit.
Troi. I take to-day a wife, and my
Is led on in the conduct of
My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears,
Two traded pilots 'twixt the dangerous shores
Of will and judgment. How may I avoid,
Although my will distaste what it elected,
The wife I chose? there can be no evasion
To blench1 from this, and to stand firm by honor.
We turn not back the silks upon the merchant,
When we have soil'd them; nor the remainder
viands
We do not throw in unrespective sieve,2
Because we now are full. It was thought meet, Paris should do some vengeance on the Greeks: Your breath with full consent bellied his sails; The seas and winds (old wranglers) took a truce.
And did him service: he touch'd the ports desired; And, for an old aunt, whom the Greeks held
He brought a Grecian queen, whose youth and freshness
Wrinkles Apollo's, and makes pale the morning.
Why keep we her? the Grecians keep our aunt.
Is she worth keeping? why, she is a pearl,
Whose price hath launch'd above a thousand ships,
And turn'd crown'd kings to merchants.
If you 'll avouch, 'twas wisdom Paris went,
(As you must needs, for you all cried—' Go, go!')
If you 'll confess, he brought home noble prize,
(As you must needs, for you all clapp'd your hands,
And cried Inestimable!') why do you now
The issue of your proper wisdoms rate;
And do a deed that Fortune never did,
Beggar the estimation which you prized
Richer than sea and land? O theft most base;
That we have stolen what we do fear to keep!
But, thieves, unworthy of a thing so stolen,
That in their country did them that disgrace,
We fear to warrant in our native place!
Cas. [within.] Cry, Trojans, cry!
What noise? what shriek is this?
Troi. 'Tis our mad sister; I do know her voice. Cas. [within.] Cry, Trojans !
1 Priam's sister, Hesione.
Enter CASSANDRA, raving.
Cas. Cry, Trojans, cry! lend me ten thousand
And I will fill them with prophetic tears.
Hec. Peace, sister, peace.
Cas. Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled elders,
Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry,
Add to my clamors! let us pay betimes
A moiety of that mass of moan to come.
Cry, Trojans, cry! practise your eyes with tears!
Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand:
Our firebrand brother, Paris, burns us all.
Cry, Trojans, cry! a Helen, and a woe!
Cry, cry! Troy burns, or else let Helen go. [Exit. Hec. Now, youthful Troilus, do not these high strains
Of divination in our sister work
Some touches of remorse? or is your blood
So madly hot, that no discourse of reason,
Nor fear of bad success in a bad cause,
Can qualify the same?
We may not think the justness of each act
Such and no other than event doth form it;
Nor once deject the courage of our minds,
Because Cassandra's mad: her brain-sick raptures
Cannot distaste 1 the goodness of a quarrel,
1 Corrupt, change to a worse state.
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