The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (1089 page)

To make the service greater than the god;

And the will dotes that is attributive

To what infectiously itself affects,

Without some image of th' affected merit.

But value can't just be judged by one man:

it only has a true worth when it

has some intrinsic value, as well as

being valued in someone's opinion. It's mad idolatry

to value the worship more than the god;

and a person is besotted if he attaches himself

to something which actually does him harm

and has no demonstrable merit.

TROILUS.

I take to-day a wife, and my election

Is led on in the conduct of my will;

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 blench from this and to stand firm by honour.

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,

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 desir'd;

And for an old aunt whom the Greeks held captive

He brought a Grecian queen, whose youth and freshness

Wrinkles Apollo's, and makes stale 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 worthy 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 never fortune did-

Beggar the estimation which you priz'd

Richer than sea and land? O theft most base,

That we have stol'n what we do fear to keep!

But thieves unworthy of a thing so stol'n

That in their country did them that disgrace

We fear to warrant in our native place!

If I get married today, and my choice of wife

is made under the supervision of my will,

my will inspired by my eyes and ears,

two skilful mediators between the dangerous extremes

of will and judgement. How can I get rid of,

even if my will comes to dislike what it chose,

the wife I selected? There is no way

to dodge around this and to retain one's honour.

We can't return silk to the store keeper

when we have soiled it; nor do we throw leftover food

into the bin without seeing what can be saved,

just because we are full. It was thought fitting

for Paris to take some revenge on the Greeks.

His sails were blown along by the breath of your agreement;

the sea and winds, which usually fight, declared a truce,

and helped him; he landed at the ports he had chosen;

and in return for an old aunt whom the Greeks held captive

he got a Greek queen, whose youth and freshness

make Apollo look old and wrinkled, and makes the dawn look dull.

Why do we keep her? The Greeks keep our aunt.

Is she worth keeping? Why, she is a pearl

whose price has launched a thousand ships

and made royal Kings into merchants, wanting to buy her.

If you agree that it was right for Paris to go–

as you have to, for you all encouraged him;

if you will admit he brought home a great prize–

as you must, for youall clapped your hands

and cried, ‘incomparable!’–Why do you now

criticise the result of your own wise decisions

and do something that even Fortune never did,

claim that what you once prized more than anything on earth

is now worthless? What a disgraceful theft,

to steal something and then be afraid to keep it!

We are thieves who don't deserve the thing we stole,

because we insulted them in their own country,

and now we're afraid to justify it when we're on home soil!

CASSANDRA.

[Within] Cry, Troyans, cry.

Cry, Trojans, cry.

PRIAM.

What noise, what shriek is this?

What's that noise, that shrieking?

TROILUS.

'Tis our mad sister; I do know her voice.

It's our mad sister; I know her voice.

CASSANDRA.

[Within] Cry, Troyans.

Cry, Trojans.

HECTOR.

It is Cassandra.

It is Cassandra.

Enter CASSANDRA, raving

CASSANDRA.

Cry, Troyans, cry. Lend me ten thousand eyes,

And I will fill them with prophetic tears.

Cry, Trojans, cry. Lend me ten thousand eyes

and I will make them weep for what is to come.

HECTOR.

Peace, sister, peace.

Quiet, sister, calm down.

CASSANDRA.

Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled eld,

Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry,

Add to my clamours. Let us pay betimes

A moiety of that mass of moan to come.

Cry, Troyans, cry. Practise your eyes with tears.

Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand;

Our firebrand brother, Paris, burns us all.

Cry, Troyans, cry, A Helen and a woe!

Cry, cry. Troy burns, or else let Helen go.

Exit

Virgins and boys, the middle-aged and the wrinkled old,

sweet babies, that can do nothing but cry,

add to my noise! Let's pay in advance

a part of all the moaning that is to come.

Cry, Trojans, cry! Use your eyes for tears!

Troy cannot last, or sweet Ilium either;

our firebrand brother Paris will burn us all.

Cry, Trojans, cry! Helen comes with sorrow!

Cry, cry! If you don't let Helen go, Troy will burn.

HECTOR.

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?

Now, young Troilus, don't these great words

of prophecy from our sister give you

some cause for remorse, or are you so

hotheaded that no talk of reason,

nor fear of a bad outcome in a bad cause,

can calm you down?

TROILUS.

Why, brother Hector,

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 the goodness of a quarrel

Which hath our several honours all engag'd

To make it gracious. For my private part,

I am no more touch'd than all Priam's sons;

And Jove forbid there should be done amongst us

Such things as might offend the weakest spleen

To fight for and maintain.

Why, brother Hector,

we can't judge everything

only by the way things turn out;

neither should we lessen our courage

because Cassandra's mad. Her insane visions

can't take away the justice of this argument

to which we have all committed our honour

to make it righteous. Speaking personally,

it affects me no more than it does all of Priam's sons;

and Jove forbid that any of us would do anything

that would give the least courageous any reason

not to fight and support.

PARIS.

Else might the world convince of levity

As well my undertakings as your counsels;

But I attest the gods, your full consent

Gave wings to my propension, and cut of

All fears attending on so dire a project.

For what, alas, can these my single arms?

What propugnation is in one man's valour

To stand the push and enmity of those

This quarrel would excite? Yet, I protest,

Were I alone to pass the difficulties,

And had as ample power as I have will,

Paris should ne'er retract what he hath done

Nor faint in the pursuit.

Otherwise the world might accuse us of lacking seriousness,

both in my actions and your advice.

But I swear to the gods, your full agreement

drove me onwards in my endeavours, and took away

any worries I had about such a serious project.

For, alas, what can these arms of mine accomplish on their own?

What protection does one man's bravery give

against the attack and hatred of those

whom this argument involves? And yet I insist,

that if I had to face these difficulties alone

and had as much power as I have desire,

Paris would never take back what he has done

and would never lose heart.

PRIAM.

Paris, you speak

Like one besotted on your sweet delights.

You have the honey still, but these the gall;

So to be valiant is no praise at all.

Paris, you speak

as one who is obsessed with the joy of what you've got.

You still have the sweetness, but these others have the bitterness;

so there's no credit to you for your bravery.

PARIS.

Sir, I propose not merely to myself

The pleasures such a beauty brings with it;

But I would have the soil of her fair rape

Wip'd off in honourable keeping her.

What treason were it to the ransack'd queen,

Disgrace to your great worths, and shame to me,

Now to deliver her possession up

On terms of base compulsion! Can it be

That so degenerate a strain as this

Should once set footing in your generous bosoms?

There's not the meanest spirit on our party

Without a heart to dare or sword to draw

When Helen is defended; nor none so noble

Whose life were ill bestow'd or death unfam'd

Where Helen is the subject. Then, I say,

Well may we fight for her whom we know well

The world's large spaces cannot parallel.

Sir, I'm not just asking you to think

about the pleasures such a beauty brings to me;

I want the stain of her kidnapping

to be wiped out by honourably keeping her.

How disloyal it would be to the stolen queen,

what a disgrace to your great reputations, and a shame to me,

to now surrender her

because we've been dishonourably forced to! Can it be