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.
