William Shakespeare - Sämtliche Werke von Shakespeare in einem Band - Zweisprachige Ausgabe (Deutsch-Englisch)

Thou dreadful Ajax, that the appalled air

May pierce the head of the great combatant,

And hale him hither.

AJAX.

Thou, trumpet, there’s my purse.

Now crack thy lungs and split thy brazen pipe;

Blow, villain, till thy sphered bias cheek

Outswell the colic of puff’d Aquilon.

Come, stretch thy chest, and let thy eyes spout blood:

Thou blowest for Hector.

[Trumpet sounds.]

ULYSSES.

No trumpet answers.

ACHILLES.

‘Tis but early days.

[Enter DIOMEDES, with CRESSIDA.]

AGAMEMNON.

Is not yond Diomed, with Calchas’ daughter?

ULYSSES.

‘Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait:

He rises on the toe. That spirit of his

In aspiration lifts him from the earth.

[Enter DIOMEDES with CRESSIDA.]

AGAMEMNON.

Is this the lady Cressid?

DIOMEDES.

Even she.

AGAMEMNON.

Most dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet lady.

NESTOR.

Our general doth salute you with a kiss.

ULYSSES.

Yet is the kindness but particular;

‘Twere better she were kiss’d in general.

NESTOR.

And very courtly counsel: I’ll begin.

So much for Nestor.

ACHILLES.

I’ll take that winter from your lips, fair lady.

Achilles bids you welcome.

MENELAUS.

I had good argument for kissing once.

PATROCLUS.

But that’s no argument for kissing now;

For thus popp’d Paris in his hardiment,

And parted thus you and your argument.

ULYSSES.

O deadly gall, and theme of all our scorns!

For which we lose our heads to gild his horns.

PATROCLUS.

The first was Menelaus’ kiss; this, mine:

Patroclus kisses you.

MENELAUS.

O, this is trim!

PATROCLUS.

Paris and I kiss evermore for him.

MENELAUS.

I’ll have my kiss, sir. Lady, by your leave.

CRESSIDA.

In kissing, do you render or receive?

PATROCLUS.

Both take and give.

CRESSIDA.

I’ll make my match to live,

The kiss you take is better than you give;

Therefore no kiss.

MENELAUS.

I’ll give you boot; I’ll give you three for one.

CRESSIDA.

You are an odd man; give even or give none.

MENELAUS.

An odd man, lady! Every man is odd.

CRESSIDA.

No, Paris is not; for you know ‘tis true

That you are odd, and he is even with you.

MENELAUS.

You fillip me o’ the head.

CRESSIDA.

No, I’ll be sworn.

ULYSSES.

It were no match, your nail against his horn.

May I, sweet lady, beg a kiss of you?

CRESSIDA.

You may.

ULYSSES.

I do desire it.

CRESSIDA.

Why, beg then.

ULYSSES.

Why then, for Venus’ sake give me a kiss

When Helen is a maid again, and his.

CRESSIDA.

I am your debtor; claim it when ‘tis due.

ULYSSES.

Never’s my day, and then a kiss of you.

DIOMEDES.

Lady, a word. I’ll bring you to your father.

[Exit with CRESSIDA.]

NESTOR.

A woman of quick sense.

ULYSSES.

Fie, fie upon her!

There’s language in her eye, her cheek, her lip,

Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out

At every joint and motive of her body.

O! these encounterers so glib of tongue

That give a coasting welcome ere it comes,

And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts

To every tickling reader! Set them down

For sluttish spoils of opportunity,

And daughters of the game.

[Trumpet within.]

ALL.

The Trojans’ trumpet.

AGAMEMNON.

Yonder comes the troop.

[Enter HECTOR, armed; AENEAS, TROILUS, PARIS, HELENUS, and other

Trojans, with attendants.]

AENEAS.

Hail, all you state of Greece! What shall be done

To him that victory commands? Or do you purpose

A victor shall be known? Will you the knights

Shall to the edge of all extremity

Pursue each other, or shall be divided

By any voice or order of the field?

Hector bade ask.

AGAMEMNON.

Which way would Hector have it?

AENEAS.

He cares not; he’ll obey conditions.

ACHILLES.

‘Tis done like Hector; but securely done,

A little proudly, and great deal misprising

The knight oppos’d.

AENEAS.

If not Achilles, sir,

What is your name?

ACHILLES.

If not Achilles, nothing.

AENEAS.

Therefore Achilles. But whate’er, know this:

In the extremity of great and little

Valour and pride excel themselves in Hector;

The one almost as infinite as all,

The other blank as nothing. Weigh him well,

And that which looks like pride is courtesy.

This Ajax is half made of Hector’s blood;

In love whereof half Hector stays at home;

Half heart, half hand, half Hector comes to seek

This blended knight, half Trojan and half Greek.

ACHILLES.

A maiden battle then? O! I perceive you.

[Re-enter DIOMEDES.]

AGAMEMNON.

Here is Sir Diomed. Go, gentle knight,

Stand by our Ajax. As you and Lord Aeneas

Consent upon the order of their fight,

So be it; either to the uttermost,

Or else a breath. The combatants being kin

Half stints their strife before their strokes begin.

[AJAX and HECTOR enter the lists.]

ULYSSES.

They are oppos’d already.

AGAMEMNON.

What Trojan is that same that looks so heavy?

ULYSSES.

The youngest son of Priam, a true knight;

Not yet mature, yet matchless; firm of word;

Speaking in deeds and deedless in his tongue;

Not soon provok’d, nor being provok’d soon calm’d;

His heart and hand both open and both free;

For what he has he gives, what thinks he shows,

Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty,

Nor dignifies an impure thought with breath;

Manly as Hector, but more dangerous;

For Hector in his blaze of wrath subscribes

To tender objects, but he in heat of action

Is more vindicative than jealous love.

They call him Troilus, and on him erect

A second hope as fairly built as Hector.

Thus says Aeneas, one that knows the youth

Even to his inches, and, with private soul,

Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me.

[Alarum. HECTOR and AJAX fight.]

AGAMEMNON.

They are in action.

NESTOR.

Now, Ajax, hold thine own!

TROILUS.

Hector, thou sleep’st;

Awake thee!

AGAMEMNON.

His blows are well dispos’d. There, Ajax!

DIOMEDES.

You must no more.

[Trumpets cease.]

AENEAS.

Princes, enough, so please you.

AJAX.

I am not warm yet; let us fight again.

DIOMEDES.

As Hector pleases.

HECTOR.

Why, then will I no more.

Thou art, great lord, my father’s sister’s son,

A cousin-german to great Priam’s seed;

The obligation of our blood forbids

A gory emulation ‘twixt us twain:

Were thy commixtion Greek and Trojan so

That thou could’st say ‘This hand is Grecian all,

And this is Trojan; the sinews of this leg

All Greek, and this all Troy; my mother’s blood

Runs on the dexter cheek, and this sinister

Bounds in my father’s; by Jove multipotent,

Thou shouldst not bear from me a Greekish member

Wherein my sword had not impressure made

Of our rank feud; but the just gods gainsay

That any drop thou borrow’dst from thy mother,

My sacred aunt, should by my mortal sword

Be drained! Let me embrace thee, Ajax.

By him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms;

Hector would have them fall upon him thus.

Cousin, all honour to thee!

AJAX.

I thank thee, Hector.

Thou art too gentle and too free a man.