Page 2803 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

Surety secure; but modest doubt is called [15]
The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches
To th’bottom of the worst. Let Helen go:
Since the first sword was drawn about this question,

Every tithe soul ’mongst many thousand dismes
Hath been as dear as Helen − I mean, of ours. [20]
If we have lost so many tenths of ours,
To guard a thing not ours nor worth to us −

Had it our name − the value of one ten,
What merit’s in that reason which denies
The yielding of her up?

TROILUS
Fie, fie, my brother! [25]
Weigh you the worth and honour of a king

So great as our dread father in a scale
Of common ounces? Will you with counters sum
The past-proportion of his infinite,

And buckle in a waist most fathomless [30]
With spans and inches so diminutive
As fears and reasons? Fie, for godly shame!

HELENUS
No marvel though you bite so sharp at reasons,
You are so empty of them. Should not our father

Bear the great sway of his affairs with reasons, [35]
Because your speech hath none that tells him so?

TROILUS
You are for dreams and slumbers, brother priest;
You fur your gloves with reason. Here are your reasons:

You know an enemy intends you harm;
You know a sword employed is perilous, [40]
And reason flies the object of all harm.
Who marvels, then, when Helenus beholds
A Grecian and his sword, if he do set

The very wings of reason to his heels,
And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove, [45]