Thersites.
Uly.
Stand where the torch may not discover us.
Enter Cressida.
Tro.
Cressid come forth to him!
Dio.
How now, my charge?
Cre.
Now, my sweet guardian!—Hark.
A word with you.
[Whispering him.
Tro.
Yea, so familiar!
Uly.
She will sing any man at first sight.
&blquo;The.
&blquo;And any man
&blquo;May sing her, if he can take her cliff; she's noted* note.
Dio.
Will you remember?
Cre.
Remember? yes.
Dio.
Nay, but do then;
And let your mind be coupl'd with your words.
Tro.
What should she remember?
Uly.
List!
Cre.
Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly.
The.
Roguery.
Dio.
Nay, then,—
Cre.
I'll tell you what:
Dio.
Pho, pho! come, tell a pin: You are forsworn.
Cre.
In faith, I cannot: What would you have me do?
The.
A juggling trick, to be—secretly open.
Dio.
What did you swear, you would bestow on me?
Cre.
I pr'ythee, do not hold me to mine oath;
Bid me do any thing but that, sweet Greek.
-- 242 --
Dio.
Good night.
Tro.
Hold, patience!
Uly.
How now, Trojan?
Cre.
Diomed,—
Dio.
No, no, good night; I'll be your fool no more.
Tro.
Thy better must.
Cre.
Hark, one word in your ear.
Tro.
O plague and madness!
Uly.
You are mov'd, prince; let us depart, I pray you,
Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself
To wrathful terms: this place is dangerous;
The time right deadly; I beseech you, go.
&blquo;Tro.
&blquo;Behold, I pray you!
&blquo;Uly.
&blquo;Now, good my lord, go off;
&blquo;You flow to great distraction: come, my lord.
&blquo;Tro.
&blquo;I pr'ythee, stay.
&blquo;Uly.
&blquo;You have not patience; come.
&blquo;Tro.
&blquo;I pray you, stay; by hell, and all hell's torments,
&blquo;I will not speak a word.
&blquo;Dio.
&blquo;And so, good night.
Cre.
Nay, but you part in anger.
Tro.
Doth that grieve thee?
O wither'd truth!
Uly.
How now, my lord?
Tro.
By Jove,
I will be patient.
Cre.
Guardian,—why, Greek,—
Dio.
Pho, pho! adieu; you palter.
Cre.
In faith, I do not; come hither once again.
&blquo;Uly.
&blquo;You shake, my lord, at something: Will you go?
&blquo;You will break out.
&blquo;Tro.
&blquo;She strokes his cheek!
&blquo;Uly.
&blquo;Come, come.
&blquo;Tro.
&blquo;Nay, stay; by Jove I will not speak a word:
&blquo;There is between my will and all offences
&blquo;A guard of patience; stay a little while.
&blquo;The.
&blquo;How the devil, luxury, with his fat rump, and
-- 243 --
&blquo;* notePotatoe finger, tickles these together!—
&blquo;Fry, lechery, fry!
&blquo;Dio.
&blquo;But will you then?
&blquo;Cre.
&blquo;In faith, I will, la; never trust me else.
Dio.
Give me some token for the surety of it.
Cre.
I'll fetch you one.
[Exit.
Uly.
You have sworn patience.
Tro.
Fear me not, my lord;
I will not be myself, nor have cognition
Of what I feel; I am all patience.
Re-enter Cressida.
The.
Now the pledge; now, now, now!
Cre.
Here, Diomed, keep this sleeve.
Tro.
O, beauty!
Where is thy faith?
Uly.
My lord,—
Tro.
I will be patient; outwardly I will.
Cre.
You look upon that sleeve; behold it well:
He lov'd me—O false wench!—Giv't me again.
Dio.
Whose was't?
Cre.
It is no matter, now I hav't again.
I will not meet with you to-morrow night:
I pr'ythee, Diomed, visit me no more.
The.
Now she sharpens; well said, whetstone.
Dio.
I shall have it again.
Cre.
What, this?
Dio.
Ay, that.
Cre.
O all you gods!—O pretty pretty pledge!
Thy master now lies thinking in his bed
Of thee, and me; and sighs, and takes my glove,
And gives memorial dainty kisses to it,
As I kiss thee.—Nay, do not snatch it from me;
He, that takes that, doth take my heart withal.
Dio.
I had your heart before, this follows it.
Tro.
I did swear patience.
Cre.
You shall not have it, Diomed; 'faith, you shall not;
I'll give you something else.
-- 244 --
Dio.
I will have this: Whose was it?
Cre.
It is no matter.
Dio.
Come, tell me whose it was.
Cre.
'Twas one's that lov'd me better than you will.
But, now you have it, take it.
Dio.
But whose was it?
Cre.
By all Diana's waiting-women yonder,
And by herself, I will not tell you whose.
Dio.
To-morrow I will wear it on my helm;
And grieve his spirit, that dares not challenge it.
Tro.
Wert thou the devil, and wor'st it on thy horn,
It should be challeng'd* note.
Cre.
Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis past;—and yet it is not;
I will not keep my word.
Dio.
Why then, farewel;
Thou never shalt mock Diomed again.
Cre.
You shall not go: One cannot speak a word,
But it straight starts you.
Dio.
I do not like this fooling.
The.
Nor I, by Pluto: but that that likes not me,
Pleases me best.
Dio.
What, shall I come? the hour?
Cre.
Ay, come:—O Jove!
Do, come:—I shall be plagu'd.
Dio.
Farewel 'till then.
Cre.
Good night. I pr'ythee, come.
[Exit Dio.
Troilus, farewel! one eye yet looks on thee;
But with my heart the other eye doth see.
Ah, poor our sex! this fault in us I find,
The error of our eye directs our mind:
What error leads, must err; O then conclude,
† noteMinds, sway'd by eyes, are full of turpitude.
[Exit Cre.
&blquo;The.
&blquo;A proof of strength she could not publish more,
&blquo;Unless she say, my mind is now turn'd whore.
&blquo;Uly.
&blquo;All's done, my lord.
&blquo;Tro.
&blquo;It is.
&blquo;Uly.
&blquo;Why stay we then?
-- 245 --
Tro.
To make a recordation to my soul
Of every syllable that here was spoke.
But, if I tell how these two did co-act,
Shall I not lie in publishing a truth?
Sith yet there is a credence in my heart,
An esperance so obstinately strong,
That doth invert the attest of eyes and ears;
As if those organs had deceptious functions,
Created only to calumniate.
Was Cressid here?
&blquo;Uly.
&blquo;I cannot conjure, Trojan.
&blquo;Tro.
&blquo;She was not, sure.
&blquo;Uly.
&blquo;Most sure she was.
&blquo;Tro.
&blquo;Why, my negation hath no taste of madness.
&blquo;Uly.
&blquo;Nor mine, my lord: Cressid was here but now.
&blquo;Tro.
&blquo;Let it not be believ'd for womanhood;
&blquo;Think, we had mothers; do not give advantage
&blquo;To stubborn critics—apt, without a theme,
&blquo;For depravation—to square the general sex
&blquo;By Cressid's rule: rather think this not Cressid.
&blquo;Uly.
&blquo;What hath she done, prince, that can soil our mothers?
&blquo;Tro.
&blquo;Nothing at all, unless that this were she.
&blquo;The.
&blquo;Will he swagger himself out on's own eyes?
&blquo;Tro.
&blquo;This she? no, this is Diomed's Cressida:
If beauty have a soul, this is not she;
If souls guide vows, if vows be sanctimony,
If sanctimony be the gods' delight,
If there be rule in unity itself,
This is not she. O madness of discourse,
That cause sets up with and against itself!
&blquo;Bi-fold authority! where reason can revolt
&blquo;Without perdition, and loss assume all reason
&blquo;Without revolt: this is, and is not, Cressid!
&blquo;Within my soul there doth commence a fight
&blquo;Of this strange nature, that a thing inseparate
&blquo;Divides more wider than the sky and earth;
&blquo;And yet the spacious breadth of this division
&blquo;Admits no orifice for a point, as subtle
&blquo;As is Arachne's broken woof, to enter.
&blquo;Instance, O instance! strong as Pluto's gates;
-- 246 --
Cressid is mine, ty'd with the bonds of heaven:
Instance, O instance! strong as heaven itself;
The bonds of heaven are slipt, dissolv'd, and loos'd;
And with another knot, five finger ty'd,
The fractions of her faith, orts of her love,
The fragments, scraps, the bits and greazy relicks
Of her o'er-eaten faith, are bound to Diomed.
Uly.
May worthy Troilus be half attach'd
With that which here his passion doth express?
Tro.
Ay, Greek; and that shall be divulged well
In characters as red as Mars his heart
Inflam'd with Venus: never did young man fancy
With so eternal and so fixt a soul.
Hark, Greek,—As much as I do Cressid love,
So much by weight hate I her Diomed:
That sleeve is mine, that he'll bear on his helm;
Were it a casque compos'd by Vulcan's skill,
My sword should bite it: not the dreadful spout,
Which shipmen do the hurricano call,
Constring'd in mass by the almighty sun,
Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptune's ear
In his descent, than shall my prompted sword
Falling on Diomed* note.
The.
He'll tickle it for his concupy.
Tro.
O Cressid! O false Cressid! false, false, false!
Let all untruths stand by thy-stained name,
And they'll seem glorious.
Uly.
O, contain yourself;
Your passion draws ears hither.
Enter Æneas.
Æne.
I have been seeking you this hour, my lord:
Hector by this, is arming him in Troy;
Ajax, your guard, stays to conduct you home.
Tro.
Have with you, prince:—My courteous lord; adieu:—
Farewel, revolted fair!—and, Diomed,
Stand fast, and wear a castle on thy head.
-- 247 --
Uly.
I'll bring you to the gates.
Tro.
Accept distracted thanks.
[Exeunt Tro. Æne. and Uly.
&blquo;The.
&blquo;'Would I could meet that rogue Diomed!
I would croak like a raven; I would bode, I would
bode. Patroclus will give me any thing for the intelligence
of this whore: the parrot will not do more
for an almond, than he for a commodious drab.
Lechery, lechery; still, wars, and lechery; nothing
else holds fashion: A burning devil take them† note!&brquo;
[Exit.
SCENE III.
Troy. Before Priam's Palace.
Enter Hector arm'd, and Andromache.
And.
When was my lord so much ungently temper'd,
To stop his ears against admonishment?
Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to-day.
Hec.
You train me to offend you; get you in:
By all the everlasting gods, I'll go.
And.
My dreams will, sure, prove ominous to-day.
Hec.
No more, I say.
Enter Cassandra.
Cas.
Where is my brother Hector?
And.
Here, sister; arm'd, and bloody in intent:
Consort with me in loud and dear petition,
Pursue we him on knees; for I have dreamt
Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night
Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter.
Cas.
O, it is true.
Hec.
Ho, bid my trumpet sound!
Cas.
No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet brother.
Hec.
Begone, I say: the gods have heard me swear.
Cas.
The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows:
They are polluted off'rings, more abhorr'd
Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.
And.
O, be persuaded: Do not count it holy,
To hurt by being just: it is as lawful,
-- 248 --
For us to count we give what's gain'd by thefts,
And rob in the behalf of charity.
Cas.
It is the purpose, that makes strong the vow;
But vows, to every purpose, must not hold:
Unarm, sweet Hector.
Hec.
Hold you still, I say;
Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate:
Life every man holds dear; but the brave man
Holds honour far more precious-dear than life‡ note.—
Enter Troilus, arm'd.
How now, young man? mean'st thou to fight to-day?
And.
Cassandra, call my father to persuade.
[Exit Cassandra.
Hec.
No, 'faith, young Troilus; doff thy harness, youth;
I am to-day i'th' vein of chivalry:
Let grow thy sinews 'till their knots be strong,
And tempt not yet the brushes of the war.
Unarm thee, go; and doubt thou not, brave boy,
I'll stand, to-day, for thee, and me, and Troy.
Tro.
Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you,
Which better fits a lion, than a man.
Hec.
What vice is that, good Troilus? chide me for it.
Tro.
When many times the captive Grecians fall,
Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword,
You bid them rise, and live.
Hec.
O, 'tis fair play.
Tro.
Fools' play, by heaven, Hector.
Hec.
How now? how now?
Tro.
For th' love of all the gods,
Let's leave the hermit pity with our mother;
And when we have our armours buckl'd on,
The venom'd vengeance ride upon our swords;
Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth.
Hec.
Fie, savage, fie!
Tro.
Hector, thus 'tis in wars.
Hec.
Troilus, I would not have you fight to-day.
-- 249 --
Tro.
Who should withhold me?
Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars
Beck'ning with fiery truncheon my retire;
Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees,
Their eyes o'er-galled with recourse of tears;
Nor you, my brother, with your true sword drawn,
Oppos'd to hinder me, should stop my way,
But by my ruin.
&blquo;Re-enter Cassandra, with Priam.
&blquo;Cas.
&blquo;Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him fast:
&blquo;He is thy crutch; now if thou lose thy stay,
&blquo;Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee,
&blquo;Fall all together.
&blquo;Pri.
&blquo;Come, Hector, come, go back:
&blquo;Thy wife hath dreamt; thy mother hath had visions;
&blquo;Cassandra doth foresee; and I myself
&blquo;Am like a prophet suddenly enrapt,
&blquo;To tell thee—that this day is ominous:
&blquo;Therefore, come back.
&blquo;Hec.
&blquo;Æneas is a-field;
&blquo;And I do stand engag'd to many Greeks,
&blquo;Even in the faith of valour, to appear
&blquo;This morning to them.
&blquo;Pri.
&blquo;Ay, but thou shalt not go.
&blquo;Hec.
&blquo;I must not break my faith.
&blquo;You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sir,
&blquo;Let me not shame respect; but give me leave
&blquo;To take that course by your consent and voice,
&blquo;Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam.
&blquo;Cas.
&blquo;O Priam, yield not to him.
&blquo;And.
&blquo;Do not, dear father.
&blquo;Hec.
&blquo;Andromache, I am offended with you:
&blquo;Upon the love you bear me, get you in.
&blquo;[Exit Andromache.
&blquo;Tro.
&blquo;This, foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl
&blquo;Makes all these bodements.
&blquo;Cas.
&blquo;O, farewel, dear Hector.
&blquo;Look, how thou dy'st! look, how thy eye turns pale!
&blquo;Look, how thy wounds do bleed at many vents!
&blquo;Hark, how Troy roars; how Hecuba cries out;
-- 250 --
&blquo;How poor Andromache shrills her dolours forth!
&blquo;Behold, distraction, frenzy, and amazement,
&blquo;Like witless anticks, one another meet,
&blquo;And all cry—Hector! Hector's dead! O Hector!
&blquo;Tro.
&blquo;Away, away!
&blquo;Cas.
&blquo;Farewel.—Yet, soft:—Hector, I take my leave:
&blquo;Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive.
&blquo;[Exit Cassandra.
&blquo;Hec.
&blquo;You are amaz'd, my liege, at her exclaim:
&blquo;Go in, and cheer the town: we'll forth, and fight;
&blquo;Do deeds of praise, and tell you them at night.
&blquo;Pri.
&blquo;Farewel: The gods with safety stand about thee!
&blquo;Alarums‡ note.
Tro.
They are at it, hark!—proud Diomed, believe,
I come to lose my arm, or win my sleeve.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Between Troy and the Greek Camp.
A Field of Battle. Alarums: Excursions.
Enter Thersites.
The.
Now they are clapper-clawing one another; I'll
go look on. That dissembling abominable varlet, Diomed,
has got that same scurvy doating foolish knave's
sleeve of Troy, there, in his helm: I would fain see them
meet; that that same young Trojan ass, that loves the
whore there, might send that Greekish whore-masterly
villain, with the sleeve, back to the dissembling luxurious
drab, of a sleeveless errand. O'th' other side, The
policy of those crafty sneering rascals—that stale old
mouse-eaten dry cheese, Nestor; and that same dog fox,
Ulysses,—is not prov'd worth a black-berry: They set
me up, in policy, that mungril cur, Ajax, against that
dog of as bad a kind, Achilles: and now is the cur Ajax
prouder than the cur Achilles, and will not arm to-day;
whereupon the Grecians begin to proclaim barbarism,
and policy grows into an ill opinion. Soft! here comes
sleeve, and t'other.
-- 251 --
Enter Diomed, Troilus following.
Tro.
Fly not; for, should'st thou take the river Styx,
I would swim after.
Dio.
Thou dost mis-call retire:
I do not fly; but advantageous care
Withdrew me from the odds of multitude:
Have at thee!
The.
Hold thy whore, Grecian!—now for thy whore,
Trojan!—now the sleeve, now the sleeve!
[Exeunt Diomed and Troilus, fighting.
Enter Hector.
Hec.
What art thou, Greek? art thou for Hector's match?
Art thou of blood, and honour?
The.
No, no: I am a rascal;
A scurvy railing knave; a very filthy rogue.
Hec.
I do believe thee; live.
[Exit.
The.
God-a-mercy, that thou wilt believe me; but a
plague break thy neck, for frighting me! What's become
of the wenching rogues? I think, they have swallow'd
one another: I would laugh at that miracle. Yet, in a
sort, lechery eats itself. I'll seek them§ note.
[Exit.
SCENE V.
The same.
Alarums. Enter Diomed, and a Servant.
Dio.
Go, go, my servant, take thou Troilus' horse;
Present the fair steed to my lady Cressid:
Fellow, commend my service to her beauty;
Tell her, I have chastis'd the amorous Trojan,
And am her knight by proof.
Ser.
I go, my lord.
[Exit Servant.
Enter Agamemnon, hastily.
Aga.
Renew, renew! the fierce Polidamas
Hath beat down Menon: bastard Margarelon
Hath Doreus prisoner;
-- 252 --
And stands Colossus-wise, waving his beam,
Upon the pashed corses of the kings
Epistropus and Cedius: Polixenes is slain;
Amphimachus, and Thoas, deadly hurt;
Patroclus ta'en, or slain; and Palamedes
Sore hurt and bruis'd: the dreadful Sagittary
Appals our numbers; haste we, Diomed,
To re-inforcement, or we perish all.
Enter Nestor.
Nes.
Go, bear Patroclus' body to Achilles;
[to his Followers.
And bid the snail-pac'd Ajax arm for shame.—
There is a thousand Hectors in the field:
Now here he fights on Galathe his horse,
And there lacks work; anon he's there afoot,
And there they fly, or die, like scaled sculls
Before the belching whale; then is he yonder,
And there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge,
Fall down before him, like the mower's swath‡ note:
Here, there, and every where, he leaves, and takes;
Dexterity so obeying appetite,
That what he will, he does; and does so much,
That proof is call'd impossibility.
Enter Ulysses.
Uly.
O, courage, courage, princes! great Achilles
Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance:
Patroclus' wounds have rouz'd his drowzy blood;
Together with his mangl'd Myrmidons,
That noseless, handless, hackt and chipt come to him,
Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend,
And foams at mouth, and he is arm'd, and at it,
Roaring for Troilus; who hath done to-day
Mad and fantastic execution;
Engaging and redeeming of himself,
With such a careless force, and forceless care,
As if that luck, in very spite of cunning,
Bad him win all.
-- 253 --
Enter Ajax.
Aja.
Troilus! thou coward Troilus!
[Exit.
Dio.
Ay, there, there.
Nes.
So, so, we draw together.
Enter Achilles.
Ach.
Where is this Hector?
Come, come, thou boy-queller, shew me thy face;
Know what it is to meet Achilles angry:
Hector! where's Hector? I will none but Hector.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VI.
Another part of the field.
Enter Ajax.
Aja.
Troilus, thou coward Troilus, shew thy head!
Enter Diomed.
Dio.
Troilus, I say! where's Troilus?
Aja.
What would'st thou?
Dio.
I would correct him.
Aja.
Were I the general, thou shouldst have my office,
Ere that correction:—Troilus, I say! what, Troilus!
Enter Troilus.
Tro.
O traitor Diomed!—turn thy false face, thou traitor,
And pay the life thou ow'st me for my horse.
Dio.
Ha! art thou there?
Aja.
I'll fight with him alone: stand, Diomed.
Dio.
He is my prize, I will not look upon.
Tro.
Come both, you cogging Greeks; have at you both.
[Exeunt, fighting.
Enter Hector.
Hec.
Yea, Troilus? O, well fought, my youngest brother!
Enter Achilles.
Ach.
Now do I see thee: Ha!—Have at thee, Hector.
Hec.
Pause, if thou wilt.
[Dropping his sword.
Ach.
I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Trojan.
Be happy, that my arms are out of use:
My rest and negligence befriend thee now,
-- 254 --
But thou anon shalt hear of me again;
'Till when, go seek thy fortune.
[Exit† note.
Hec.
Fare thee well:
I would have been much more a fresher man,
Had I expected thee.—How now, my brother?
Re-enter Troilus hastily.
Tro.
Ajax hath ta'en Æneas; shall it be?
No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven,
He shall not carry him; I'll be ta'en too,
Or bring him off:—Fate, hear me what I say!
I reck not though I end my life to-day.
[Exit.
Alarums. Enter Grecians, and pass over; amongst them, one in goodly armour.
Hec.
Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou art a goodly mark!—
No? wilt thou not?—I like thy armour well;
I'll frush it, and unlock the rivets all,
But I'll be master of it:—Wilt thou not, beast, abide?
Why then, fly on, I'll hunt thee for thy hide.
[Exit.
SCENE VII.
The same.
Alarums. Enter Achilles with Myrmidons.
Ach.
Come here about me, you my Myrmidons;
Mark what I say,—Attend me where I wheel:
Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath;
And when I have the bloody Hector found,
Empale him with your weapons round about;
In fellest manner execute your aims.
Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye:—
It is decreed—Hector the great must die.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VIII.
The same‡ note.
Alarums. Enter Paris and Menelaus, fighting; Thersites after them.
The.
The cuckold and the cuckold-maker are at it:—
Now, bull! now, dog! 'Loo, Paris, 'loo! now my
-- 255 --
double hen'd sparrow! loo, Paris, 'loo! The bull has
the game:—'ware horns, ho!
[Exeunt Par. and Men.
Enter Margarelon.
Mar.
Turn, slave, and fight.
The.
What art thou?
Mar.
A bastard son of Priam's.
The.
I am a bastard too; I love bastards: I am bastard
begot, bastard instructed, bastard in mind, bastard
in valour, in every thing illegitimate. One bear will
not bite another, and wherefore should one bastard?
Take heed, the quarrel's most ominous to us: if the son
of a whore fight for a whore, he tempts judgment: Farewel,
bastard.
[Exit.
Mar.
The devil take thee, coward!
[Exit.
SCENE IX.
Another part of the field.
Alarms. Enter Hector.
Hec.
Most putrified core, so fair without,
Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life.
Now is my day's work done; I'll take good breath:
[Putting off his helmet.
Rest, sword; thou hast thy fill of blood and death.
Shouts within. Enter Achilles and Myrmidons.
Ach.
Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set;
How ugly night comes breathing at his heels:
Even with the veil and darking of the sun,
To close the day up, Hector's life is done.
[Assaulting him.
Hec.
I am unarm'd, forego this vantage, Greek.
Ach.
Strike, fellows, strike, this is the man I seek.—
[Hector falls† note.
So, Ilion, fall thou next! now, Troy, sink down;
Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone.—
On, Myrmidons; and cry you all amain,
Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.
[Retreat heard.
Hark! a retreat upon our Grecian part.
-- 256 --
Myr.
The Trojan trumpets sound the like, my lord.
Ach.
The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the earth;
And, stickler-like, the armies separate.
My half-supt sword, that frankly would have fed,
Pleas'd with this dainty bit, thus goes to bed.—
[Putting up his sword.
Come, tie his body to my horse's tail;
Along the field I will the Trojan trail‡ note.
[Exeunt, dragging out the body.
&blquo;SCENE X.
The same§ note.
&blquo;March. Enter Agamemnon, Ajax, Diomed, Nestor, and others. Shouts within.
&blquo;Aga.
&blquo;Hark, hark! what shout is that?
&blquo;Nes.
&blquo;Peace, drums.
[Within.]
Achilles! Achilles! Hector's slain! Achilles!
&blquo;Dio.
&blquo;The bruit is—Hector's slain, and by Achilles.
&blquo;Aja.
&blquo;If it be so, yet bragless let it be;
&blquo;Great Hector was as good a man as he.
&blquo;Aga.
&blquo;March patiently along:—Let one be sent,
&blquo;To pray Achilles see us at our tent.—
&blquo;If in his death the gods have us befriended,
&blquo;Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are ended.
&blquo;[Exeunt, marching.
SCENE XI.
Another part of the field; under Troy.
Retreat sounded. Enter Trojans confusedly; to them,
Æneas.
Æne.
Stand, ho! yet are we masters of the field:
Never go home; here starve we out the night.
Enter Troilus.
Tro.
Hector is slain.
All.
Hector? the gods forbid!
Tro.
He's dead; and at the murtherer's horse's tail,
In beastly sort dragg'd through the shameful field.—
Frown on, you heavens, effect your rage with speed!
-- 257 --
Sit, gods, upon your thrones, and smite at Troy,
I say, at once! let your brief plagues be mercy,
And linger not our sure destructions on.
Æne.
My lord, you do discomfort all the host.
Tro.
You understand me not, that tell me so:
I do not speak of flight, of fear, of death;
But dare all imminence, that gods and men,
Address their dangers in. Hector is gone!
Who shall tell Priam so, or Hecuba?
Let him that will a screech-owl aye be call'd,
Go in to Troy, and say there—Hector's dead:
There is a word will Priam turn to stone;
Make wells and Niobes of the maids and wives,
Cold statues of the youth; and, in a word,
Scare Troy out of itself. But, march, away:
Hector is dead; there is no more to say.
Stay yet; you vile abominable tents,
Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian plains,
Let Titan rise as early as he dare,
I'll through and through you:—And thou great-siz'd coward,
No space of earth shall sunder our two hates;
I'll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still,
That moldeth goblins swift as frenzy thoughts.—
Strike a free march to Troy! with comfort go;
Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe.
[As they are going out, and Troilus last.
Enter Pandarus.
Pan.
Do you hear, my lord; do you hear?
Tro.
What now?
[Exeunt Æneas and Trojans.
Pan.
Here's a letter come from yon' poor girl.
Tro.
Let me read.
[Taking it.
Pan.
A whoreson ptific, a whorson rascally ptific so
troubles me, and the foolish fortune of this girl; and
what one thing, what another, that I shall leave you one
o'these days: And I have a rheum in mine eyes too;
and such an ach in my bones, that, unless a man were
curst, I cannot tell what to think on't.—What says she.
there?
-- 258 --
Tro.
Words, words, meer words, no matter from the heart;
The effect doth operate another way.—
Go, wind, to wind, [tears, and scatters about the letter.] there turn and change together.—
My love with words and errors still she feeds;
But edifies another with her deeds.
Pan.
But hear you, hear you.
Tro.
Hence, broker, lacquey! ignominy and shame
Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name!
[Exit Troilus.
Pan.
A goodly med'cine for my aching bones!—O
world, world, world! thus is the poor agent despis'd!
O traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you set a'work,
and how ill requited! Why should our endeavour be so
desir'd, and the performance so loathed? what verse for
it? what instance for it? Let me see:
Full merrily the humble-bee doth sing,
'Till he hath lost his honey and his sting;
And, being once subdu'd in armed tail,
Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail.—
Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted cloths.
[Advancing.
As many as be here of pander's hall,
Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar's fall:
Or, if you cannot weep, yet give some groans,
Though not for me, yet for your aching bones.
Brethren, and sisters, of the hold-door trade,
Some two months hence my will shall here be made:
It should be now, but that my fear is this—
Some galled goose of Winchester would hiss:
'Till then, I'll sweat, and seek about for eases;
And, at that time, bequeath you my diseases.
[Exit Pandarus‡ note.
