the romance of troilus & criseyde which bore the most lamentable end of the worthy prince of Troy

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
a portion of a play based in the work of giovanni bocaccio il filostrato.

Submitted: April 23, 2019

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Submitted: April 23, 2019

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The Romance of Troilus & Criseyde
which bore the most lamentable end of the worthy
Prince of Troy

Dramatis Personae

 Troilus   Son of King Priam, Prince of Troy
 Criseyde Daughter of Calchas
Calchas Traitor & defector to Greek forces
 Pandar Uncle of Criseyde
Hector  Eldest son of King Priam, Prince of Troy
 ParisYoungest son of King Priam, Prince of Troy
Polyxena Daughter of Priam & Hecuba Princess of Troy
 HelenQueen of Sparta wife of Menelaus
Menelaus King Of Sparta
Agamemnon Brother of Menelaus King of Mycenae
Royal council, Trojan armies, Greek armies, messengers, servants, chorus,


Scenes
the Trojan CouncilGreek camp
Royal gardensTemple of Apollo
Temple of MinervaHouse of Pandar
Walls of TroyBattlefield

Introduction

Chorus: From an unjust crime, unjust war was declared.
Ten long years in war & grief have lapsed,
Since queen Helen of Sparta was usurped.
The romance which bore a kingly hate.
Menelaus the proud rose his royal fist,
& swore on the gods revenge on whom hath
Do wronged him in his own kingdom & home.
 Paris son of Priam Prince of Ancient Troy,
Thine offence hath set an endless turmoil
Which caused every son of man to employ
Combat before a hundred kingdoms & kings.
A thousand ships commanded by the hard
Agamemnon brother of Sparta.
Departed from mars ports to punish,
The transgression committed in the name of love.
Oh, Homer the wise, he canst relate us in detail,
What worthy heroes of renown fought & died.
But for us, the furies of destiny
Impart an unknown romance, no greater
Than what was the cause of Troy’s demise.















Actus Secundus Scaenea Secundae
(Fragment)

Chorus: Troilus son of Priam courageous
Prince, respected in his day by valour
Displayed against foreign force which threatened peace.
Never captured was he, never slashed
By sword nor pierced by lance or struck
By enemy arrow aimed to hit its mark.
Alas, no man nor beast is absolv’d of the motifs
Of fair Venus child, Cupid. He who carries
The golden darts whose tips drenched in poison.
Are thin as a hair, strong as iron & hot brimstone.
Light as the feathers dance on a summers breeze.
Child! Thou didst pierce the thick layered armour
Of leather & bronze. Reaching the soft beating
Piece of flesh. Anon! poor Troilus, he who spoke
Of love as a fool’s game, thou art no longer the
Expectator but the athlete of said games.
& the prince fell by Eros sting, his cursed sickness
No doctor could cure, nor priest would aid.
No other than Criseyde’s true caress
Would be the relief, his aching heart was in need.
Thus we entrust ourselves to the furies will
As we daughters of music pray for Troilus swift end to his Pain.



In the gardens outside the temple of Athena

Troilus  enters with his gaze towards the night sky


Troilus: Thou cruel fate, Thou who livest to
Proof man erroneous of their wit
Making  them appear as tykes
Suckling she wolf tit for milk.
Are we not in command of
What is yet our morrow?
Do we not live this jest to
which we  have named it our life?
Aye for if ‘Twas our lives
Indeed, why pray for thee gods?
Why sacrifice the heifer?
Why celebrate the glory,
Hardly earned by us who we call
ourselves children of gods.
Mars didst not command this arm
To wield this sword Mars didst not
Hew down tumultuous Greek foe.
Apollo didst not guide this
Lance to pierce Knosoisedros
Arm pit, which caused him to die.
Nay! Troilus hand was at cause!
Troilus alone!
Troilus he who tames lions
In the wilderness. The loyal
Son of King Priam, the young
Prince in command of Trojan
Invictus army! World’s most
Renown! & by my royal
Right, ancient blood tide, my
Sang real which one day shall
Inherit the regal throne,
In this most glorious city.

Actus Secundus Scenea Tertia


Cryseide: Oh, perpetual beauty.
Just among the death &
Living. I unto thee
Offer this humble
Sacrifice; Smoked meats
Derived of a white heifer.
The first fruits plucked before
Harvest, the rarest flowers
Of splendorous colours,
Fragrant honeyed dulcet
Bouquet. & this incense,
Which I burn in thine honour.
May the sweet smoke of my
Sacrifice, deliver.
My lovers’ soul to cross
The river Styx & reach,
Eternal peace among
Trojan heroes in plains
Of Elysium spherula.
& with thine sacred mantle,
Give protection from harm,
To those who fight outside
The walls of Ilium.
 
Troilus enters cautiously, attempting not to disturb the prayers of Cryseide. He hides behind a pillar of the temple


Troilus: Thereat a creature of
Unmeasurable mien,
& distinguished sublime
Demeanor doth linger,
Serene, unwavering.
She behest the very
Perfumed air which, oh so
Gently caresses those
Golden locks braided in
Entangled manner.
The peace she invokes by
here mere presence in
This sacred temple doth
Rival the fervent love
Of Venus for her praise.
Whereas outside of this
Reigning sphere, this planet.
Chaos, revenge & hate
have conquered the world ends.
How brief harmony dwells,
When Mars flexes his armies
To wage war, pairing men,
Allies & creation
Of the gods ‘gainst another.

Troilus Sighs loudly, echoing through the halls of the temple.
Cryseide stands up, abruptly & calls forth.

 

Criseyda: How now, who goes there?
Whom dost interrupt my
Prayers? Forth I say.
Emerge whence thou hide.

 

 

 

Troilus: Unworthy I am to
Enter the temple built
In thine honour for ev’n
My stained mortal body
Is marked by sinful deeds.
How then my goddess,
I am blessed, by this great
Prestige nobility
Born. & appear in
Corporeal form, expressing
All thy beauteous glory.
Wise goddess of the fowl,
Unarmed art thou, thus I
Postrate my unarmed
Mortal being before thee.


Cryseide: Art thou kneeling before me?
Soldier, rise I pray thee.
No goddess of the fowl,
Shield, nor lance I am.
No divine blood runs through
My veins. These chaste lips,
Have never touched the cup
Of supreme god king Jove.
No nectar nor Ambrosia
Have I ever tasted.
If thou wert to cut my arm.
Mortal blood would stain thine
Blade. If a hair of mine
Was to be plucked from my head.

Its filament would yield
To any strength given.
A goddess? I am not
Worthy of celestial throne
In Olympian hall. No
Golden sceptre chromed in
Platinum ore I hold.
By which I may command
Thunder & lightning to
My will. No trident to
Tarnish rampant the tranquil
Waters of Neptune’s realm.
Even a wingless seraph
With its flaming sword could
Ascend the highest heavens
& tame Selene by
Her moonly horns. But I?
A peasant girl, what feat
Could I accomplish in
My mortal time, thus I
Pray, vaunt me not my
Passionate soldier.

 

 

Troilus: Thy soldier? A hundred
Thousand times. True only
To thee immaculate
One. As true as the
Radiant chariot drawn by
Apollodorus steeds which
Race that empyrean
Frame. Indeed, from ethereal
Domain thou must mandate
Helios to drag the sun
From East horizon to
Western lands. In thine divine
Design, mark me as that
Skilled youth didst taint dark the
People’s of Afric &
Thine forevermore shall
I live to be yours alone.


Criseyde: Soldier whom flagrantly
Beguiles the dames green minds.
How many Minervas
Hast thou been confounded
Today on Pallas fest?
If my eyes cheat me not.
It appeared as if the
World was flooded by nymphs
From the sea, mountains,
Unknown hidden meadows
& secret boscages.
How many ladies doth
Hold the title ‘Fairest
Flower of the garden?’
Once their virginal virtues
Hath been disposed, then what
Errant bumblebee. Travel
To another unopened
  Button, lingering &
Buzzing around her ‘til
She was tom open to
Thy amorous charms.
No more, I bid thee Farwell.

She walks away but Troilus stopes her midway



Troilus: In  the Olympian mount
Upon white marble of
Pale cold stone, high above
Our terrestrial globe.
Great seas appear as ponds
& the mighty pillars
Of Hercules rise,
As two granite obelisks.
Before the rainbow gate
 Of light, projected by
Twin towers of cloudy ice.
 In their eternal abode,
One & only Athenea resides.
Born armed from Jupiter’s
Split celestial cranium.
As to brother Paris,
Only one Helen lives.
 To Troilus, one & only Pallas.
 So too Troy will extol
To  be the sole earthly place,
Where fairest Hellas queen
& mortal goddess Minerva
Dwell. The one whose grace dost
Surpass Venus splendour.


She blushes & approaches Troilus

 

 

Cryseide: Then mortal, I bestow
Upon thy human lips,
The sacred nectar &
Ambrosia from Jupiter’s
Cup. It doth linger in
A heavenly mouth which
Tasted the glory of gods.
Drink from that elixir,
That you too may be as
I, immortal. Renounce
This vague humanity
& gain deathless divinity.

They embrace each other and kiss. The sound of kitharas, flutes & hymns sang by priests abruptly interrupt their encounter. They exit opposite sides of the stage.

 


 


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