PARIS
See, ho! Who is that there?
DEIPHOBUS
It is the Lord Aeneas.
AENEAS
Is the Prince there in person?
Had I so good occasion to lie long
As you, Prince Paris, nothing but heavenly business
Should rob my bed-mate of my company.
DIOMEDES
That’s my mind too. Good morrow, Lord Aeneas.
PARIS
A valiant Greek, Aeneas—take his hand:
Witness the process of your speech, wherein
You told how Diomed, a whole week by days,
Did haunt you in the field.
AENEAS
Health to you, valiant sir,
During all question of the gentle truce;
But when I meet you arm’d, as black defiance
As heart can think or courage execute.
DIOMEDES
The one and other Diomed embraces.
Our bloods are now in calm; and so long health!
But when contention and occasion meet,
By Jove, I’ll play the hunter for life
With all my force, pursuit, and policy.
AENEAS
And hunt a lion that will fly
With his face backward. In humane gentleness,
Welcome to Troy! Now, by Anchises’ life,
Welcome indeed! By Venus’ hand I swear
No man alive can love in such a sort
The thing he means to kill, more excellently.
DIOMEDES
We sympathise. Jove let Aeneas live,
If to my sword his fate be not the glory,
A thousand complete courses of the sun!
But in mine emulous honour let him die
With every joint a wound, and that tomorrow!
AENEAS
We know each other well.
DIOMEDES
We do; and long to know each other worse.
PARIS
This is the most despiteful gentle greeting,
The noblest hateful love, that e’er I heard of.
What business, lord, so early?
AENEAS
I was sent for to the King; but why, I know not.
PARIS
His purpose meets you: to bring this Greek
To Calchas’ house, and there to render him,
For the enfreed Antenor, the fair Cressid.
Let’s have your company; or, if you please,
Haste there before us. I constantly believe—
Or rather call my thought a certain knowledge—
My brother Troilus lodges there tonight.
Rouse him and give him note of our approach,
With the whole quality ; I fear
We shall be much unwelcome.
AENEAS
That I assure you:
Troilus had rather Troy were borne to Greece
Than Cressid borne from Troy.
PARIS
There is no help;
The bitter disposition of the time
Will have it so. On, lord; we’ll follow you.
AENEAS
Good morrow, all.
PARIS
And tell me, noble Diomed, faith, tell me true,
Even in the soul of sound good-fellowship,
Who in your thoughts deserves fair Helen best,
Myself, or Menelaus?
DIOMEDES
Both alike:
He merits well to have her that seek her,
Not making any scruple of her soilure,
With such a hell of pain and world of charge;
And you as well to keep her that defend her,
Not palating the taste of her dishonour,
With such a costly loss of wealth and friends.
He like a puling cuckold would drink up
The lees and dregs of a flat tamed piece;
You, like a lecher, out of whorish loins
Are pleas’d to breed out your inheritors.
Both merits pois’d, each weighs nor less nor more,
But he as he, the heavier for a whore.
PARIS
You are too bitter to your country-woman.
DIOMEDES
She’s bitter to her country. Hear me, Paris:
For every false drop in her bawdy veins
A Grecian’s life sunk; for every scruple
Of her contaminated carrion weight
A Trojan been slain. Since she could speak,
She not given so many good words breath
As for her Greeks and Trojans suff’red death.
PARIS
Fair Diomed, you do as chapmen do,
Dispraise the thing that you desire to buy;
But we in silence hold this virtue well,
We’ll not commend what we intend to sell.
Here lies our way.