The works of John Dryden, now first collected in eighteen volumes. Volume 06

Ajax. Ay; and good next day too. [Exeunt all but Achilles and Patroclus.

Achil. What mean these fellows? know they not Achilles?

Patro. They pass by strangely; they were used to bow,
And send their smiles before them to Achilles;
To come as humbly as they used to creep
To holy altars.

Achil. Am I poor of late?
'Tis certain, greatness, once fallen out with fortune,
Must fall out with men too: what the declined is,
He shall as soon read in the eyes of others,
As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies,
Show not their mealy wings but to the summer.

Patro. 'Tis known you are in love with Hector's sister,
And therefore will not fight; and your not fighting
Draws on you this contempt. I oft have told you,
A woman, impudent and mannish grown,
Is not more loathed than an effeminate man,
In time of action: I am condemned for this:
They think my little appetite to war
Deads all the fire in you; but rouse yourself,
And love shall from your neck unloose his folds;
Or, like a dew-drop from a lion's mane,
Be shaken into air.

Achil. Shall Ajax fight with Hector?

Patro. Yes, and perhaps shall gain much honour by him.

Achil. I see my reputation is at stake.

Patro. O then beware; those wounds heal ill, that men
Have given themselves, because they give them deepest.

Re-enter Ajax, Agamemnon, Menelaus, Ulysses, Nestor, Diomede, Trumpet.

Agam. Here art thou, daring combat, valiant Ajax.
Give, with thy trumpet, a loud note to Troy,
Thou noble champion, that the sounding air
May pierce the ears of the great challenger,
And call him hither.

Ajax. Trumpet, take that purse:
Now crack thy lungs, and split the sounding brass;
Thou blow'st for Hector. [Trumpet sounds, and is answered from within.

Enter Hector, Æneas, and other Trojans.

Agam. Yonder comes the troop.

Æn. [Coming to the Greeks.]
Health to the Grecian lords:—What shall be done
To him that shall be vanquished? or do you purpose
A victor should 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.

Agam. Which way would Hector have it?

Æn. He cares not, he'll obey conditions.

Achil. 'Tis done like Hector, but securely done;
A little proudly, and too much despising
The knight opposed; he might have found his match.

Æn. If not Achilles, sir, what is your name?

Achil. If not Achilles, nothing.

Æn. Therefore Achilles; but whoe'er, know this;
Great Hector knows no pride: weigh him but 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.

Achil. A maiden battle? I perceive you then.

Ulys. They are opposed already. [Fight equal at first, then Ajax has Hector at disadvantage; at last Hector closes, Ajax falls on one knee, Hector stands over him, but strikes not, and Ajax rises.

Æn. [Throwing his gauntlet betwixt them.]
Princes, enough; you have both shown much valour.

Diom. And we, as judges of the field, declare,
The combat here shall cease.

Ajax, I am not warm yet, let us fight again.

Æn. Then let it be as Hector shall determine.

Hect. If it be left to me, I will no more.—
Ajax, thou art my aunt Hesione's son;
The obligation of our blood forbids us.
But, were thy mixture Greek and Trojan so,
That thou couldst say, this part is Grecian all,
And this is Trojan,—hence thou shouldst not bear
One Grecian limb, wherein my pointed sword
Had not impression made. But heaven forbid
That any drop, thou borrowest from my mother,
Should e'er be drained by me: let me embrace thee, cousin.
By him who thunders, thou hast sinewy arms:
Hector would have them fall upon him thus:—[Embrace.
Thine be the honour, Ajax.

Hect. I am glad;
For 'tis the only way I could disarm thee.

Ajax. If I might in intreaty find success,
I would desire to see thee at my tent.

Diom. 'Tis Agamemnon's wish, and great Achilles;
Both long to see the valiant Hector there.

Hect. Æneas, call my brother Troilus to me;
And you two sign this friendly interview. [Agamemnon, and the chief of both sides approach.

Agam. [To Hect.] Worthy of arms, as welcome as to one,
Who would be rid of such an enemy.—
[To Troil.] My well-famed lord of Troy, no less to you.

Nest. I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee often,
Labouring for destiny, make cruel way
Through ranks of Grecian youth; and I have seen thee
As swift as lightning spur thy Phrygian steed,
And seen thee scorning many forfeit lives,
When thou hast hung thy advanced sword i' th' air,
Not letting it decline on prostrate foes;
That I have said to all the standers-by,
Lo, Jove is yonder, distributing life.

Hect. Let me embrace thee, good old chronicle,
Who hast so long walked hand in hand with time:
Most reverend Nestor, I am glad to clasp thee.

Ulys. I wonder now, how yonder city stands,
When we have here her base and pillar by us.

Hect. I know your count'nance, lord Ulysses, well.
Ah, sir, there's many a Greek and Trojan dead,
Since first I saw yourself and Diomede
In Ilion, on your Greekish embassy.

Achil. Now, Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee;
I have with exact view perused thee, Hector,
And quoted joint by joint.

Hect. Is this Achilles?

Hect. Stand fair, I pr'ythee, let me look on thee.

Achil. Behold thy fill.

Hect. Nay, I have done already.

Achil. Thou art too brief. I will, the second time,
As I would buy thee, view thee limb by limb.

Hect. O, like a book of sport, thou read'st me o'er;
But there's more in me than thou understand'st.

Achil. Tell me, ye heavens, in which part of his body
Shall I destroy him? there, or there, or there?
That I may give the imagined wound a name,
And make distinct the very breach, whereout
Hector's great spirit flew! answer me, heavens!

Hect. Wert thou an oracle to tell me this,
I'd not believe thee; henceforth guard thee well,
I'll kill thee every where.
Ye noble Grecians, pardon me this boast;
His insolence draws folly from my lips;
But I'll endeavour deeds to match these words,
Else may I never—

Ajax. Do not chafe thee, cousin;—
And you, Achilles, let these threats alone;
You may have every day enough of Hector,
If you have stomach; the general state, I fear,
Can scarce intreat you to perform your boast.

Hect. I pray you, let us see you in the field;
We have had pelting wars, since you refused
The Grecian cause.

Achil. Do'st thou entreat me, Hector?
To-morrow will I meet thee, fierce as death;
To-night, all peace.

Hect. Thy hand upon that match.

Troil. My lord Ulysses, tell me, I beseech you,
In what part of the field does Calchas lodge?

Ulys. At Menelaus' tent:
There Diomede does feast with him to-night;
Who neither looks on heaven or on earth,
But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view
On Cressida alone.

Troil. Shall I, brave lord, be bound to you so much,
After we part from Agamemnon's tent,
To bring me thither?

Ulys. I shall wait on you.
As freely tell me, of what honour was
This Cressida in Troy? had she no lovers there,
Who mourn her absence?

Troil. O sir, to such as boasting show their scars,
Reproof is due: she loved and was beloved;
That's all I must impart. Lead on, my lord. [Exeunt Ulysses and Troilus.

Achil [To Patro.] I'll heat his blood with Greekish wine to-night,
Which with my sword I mean to cool to-morrow.
Patroclus, let us feast him to the height.

Enter Thersites.

Patro. Here comes Thersites.

Achil. How now, thou core of envy,
Thou crusty batch of nature, what's the news?

Thers. Why, thou picture of what thou seemest, thou idol of ideot worshippers, there's a letter for thee.

Achil. From whence, fragment?

Thers. Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy.

Patro. Well said, adversity! what makes thee so keen to-day?

Patro. Meaning me?

Thers. Yes, meaning thy no meaning; pr'ythee, be silent, boy, I profit not by thy talk. Now the rotten diseases of the south, gut-gripings, ruptures, catarrhs, loads of gravel in the back, lethargies, cold palsies, and the like, take thee, and take thee again! thou green sarcenet flap for a sore eye, thou tassel of a prodigal's purse, thou! Ah how the poor world is pestered with such water-flies, such diminutives of nature!

Achil. My dear Patroclus, I am quite prevented
From my great purpose, bent on Hector's life.
Here is a letter from my love Polyxena,
Both taxing and engaging me to keep
An oath that I have sworn; and will not break it
To save all Greece. Let honour go or stay,
There's more religion in my love than fame. [Exeunt Achilles and Patroclus.

Thers. With too much blood, and too little brain, these two are running mad before the dog-days. There's Agamemnon, too, an honest fellow enough, and loves a brimmer heartily; but he has not so much brains as an old gander. But his brother Menelaus, there's a fellow! the goodly transformation of Jupiter when he loved Europa; the primitive cuckold; a vile monkey tied eternally to his brother's tail,—to be a dog, a mule, a cat, a toad, an owl, a lizard, a herring without a roe, I would not care; but to be Menelaus, I would conspire against destiny.—Hey day! Will with a Wisp, and Jack a Lanthorn!

Hector, Ajax, Agamemnon, Diomede, Ulysses, Troilus, going with Torches over the Stage.

Agam. We go wrong, we go wrong.

Hect. I trouble you.

Ajax. Not at all, cousin; here comes Achilles himself, to guide us.

Enter Achilles.

Achil. Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, princes all.

Agam. So now, brave prince of Troy, I take my leave; Ajax commands the guard to wait on you.

Men. Good night, my lord.

Hect. Good night, sweet lord Menelaus.

Thers. [Aside.] Sweet, quotha! Sweet sink, sweet sewer, sweet jakes!

Achil. Nestor will stay; and you, lord Diomede,
Keep Hector company an hour or two.

Diom. I cannot, sir; I have important business.

Achil. Enter, my lords.

Ulys. [To Troil.] Follow his torch: he goes to Calchas's tent.
[Exeunt Achil. Hect. Ajax, one way; Diomede another; and after him Ulysses and Troilus.

Thers. This Diomede's a false-hearted rogue, an unjust knave; I will no more trust him when he winks with one eye, than I will a serpent when he hisses. He will spend his mouth, and promise, like Brabbler the hound; but when he performs, astronomers set it down for a prodigy: though I long to see Hector, I cannot forbear dogging him. They say he keeps a Trojan drab; and uses Calchas's tent, that fugitive priest of Troy, that canonical rogue of our side. I'll after him; nothing but whoring in this age; all incontinent rascals!
[Exit Thersites.

Calch. O, what a blessing is a virtuous child!
Thou has reclaimed my mind, and calmed my passions
Of anger and revenge; my love to Troy
Revives within me, and my lost tiara
No more disturbs my mind.

Cres. A virtuous conquest!

Calch. I have a woman's longing to return;
But yet which way, without your aid, I know not.

Cres. Time must instruct us how.

Calch. You must dissemble love to Diomede still:
False Diomede, bred in Ulysses' school,
Can never be deceived,
But by strong arts and blandishments of love.
Put them in practice all; seem lost and won,
And draw him on, and give him line again.
This Argus then may close his hundred eyes,
And leave our flight more easy.

Cres. How can I answer this to love and Troilus?

Calch. Why, 'tis for him you do it; promise largely;
That ring he saw you wear, he much suspects
Was given you by a lover; let him have it.

Diom. [Within.] Ho, Calchas, Calchas!

Calch. Hark! I hear his voice.
Pursue your project; doubt not the success.

Cres. Heaven knows, against my will; and yet my hopes,
This night to meet my Troilus, while 'tis truce,
Afford my mind some ease.

Calch. No more: retire.[Exit Cressida.

Enter Diomede: Troilus and Ulysses appear listening at one Door, and Thersites watching at another.

Diom. I came to see your daughter, worthy Calchas.

Ulys. [To Troil.] Stand where the torch may not discover us.

Enter Cressida.

Troil. Cressida comes forth to him!

Diom. How now, my charge?

Cres. Now, my sweet guardian; hark, a word with you.[Whisper.

Troil. Ay, so familiar!

Diom. Will you remember?

Cres. Remember? yes.

Troil. Heavens, what should she remember! Plague and madness!

Ulys. Prince, you are moved: let us depart in time,
Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself
To wrathful terms: this place is dangerous;
The time unlit: beseech you, let us go.

Troil. I pray you stay; by hell, and by hell's torments, I will not speak a word.

Diom. I'll hear no more: good night.

Cres. Nay, but you part in anger!

Troil. Does that grieve thee? O withered truth!

Diom. Farewell, cozener.

Cres. Indeed I am not: pray, come back again.

Ulys. You shake, my lord, at something: will you go?
You will break out.

Troil. By all the gods I will not.
There is, between my will and all my actions,
A guard of patience: stay a little while.

Thers. [aside.] How the devil luxury, with his fat rump, and potato-finger, tickles these together!—Put him off a little, you foolish harlot! 'twill sharpen him the more.

Diom. But will you then?

Diom Give me some token, for the surety of it;
The ring I saw you wear.

Cres. [Giving it.] If you must have it.

Troil. The ring? nay, then, 'tis plain! O beauty, where's thy faith!

Ulys. You have sworn patience.

Thers. That's well, that's well, the pledge is given; hold her to her word, good devil, and her soul's thine, I warrant thee.

Diom. Whose was't?

Cres. By all Diana's waiting train of stars,
And by herself, I will not tell you whose.

Diom. Why then thou lov'st him still: farewell for ever:
Thou never shalt mock Diomede again.

Cres. You shall not go: one cannot speak a word,
But straight it starts you.

Diom. I do not like this fooling.

Thers. Nor I, by Pluto: but that, which likes not you, pleases me best.

Diom. I shall expect your promise.

Cres. I'll perform it.
Not a word more, good night—I hope for ever:
Thus to deceive deceivers is no fraud.[Aside.
[Exeunt Diomede and Cressida severally.

Ulys. All's done, my lord.

Troil Is it?

Ulys. Pray let us go.

Troil. Was Cressida here?

Ulys. I cannot conjure, Trojan.

Troil. She was not, sure! she was not;
Let it not be believed, for womanhood:
Think we had mothers, do not give advantage
To biting satire, apt without a theme
For defamation, to square all the sex
By Cressid's rule; rather think this not Cressida.

Troil. This she! no, this was Diomede's Cressida.
If beauty have a soul, this is not she:—
I cannot speak for rage;—that ring was mine:—
By heaven I gave it, in that point of time,
When both our joys were fullest!—If he keeps it,
Let dogs eat Troilus.

Thers. He'll tickle it for his concupy: this will be sport to see! Patroclus will give me any thing for the intelligence of this whore; a parrot will not do more for an almond, than he will for a commodious drab:—I would I could meet with this rogue Diomede too: I would croak like a raven to him; I would bode: it shall go hard but I'll find him out.
[Exit Thersites.

Enter Æneas.

Æn. I have been seeking you this hour, my lord:
Hector by this is arming him in Troy.

Ulys. Commend me, gallant Troilus, to your brother:
Tell him, I hope he shall not need to arm;
The fair Polyxena has, by a letter,
Disarmed our great Achilles of his rage.

Troil. This I shall say to Hector.

Ulys. So I hope.
Pray heaven Thersites have informed me true!—[Aside.

Troil. Good night, my lord; accept distracted thanks! [Exit Ulysses.

Enter Pandarus.

Pand. Hear ye, my lord, hear ye; I have been seeing yon poor girl. There have been old doings there, i'faith.

Æn. to Pand. Peace, thou babbler!

Pand. She has been mightily made on by the Greeks: she takes most wonderfully among 'em. Achilles kissed her, and Patroclus kissed her: nay, and old Nestor put aside his grey beard, and brushed her with his whiskers. Then comes me Agamemnon with his general's staff, diving with a low bow even to the ground, and rising again, just at her lips: and after him came Ulysses, and Ajax, and Menelaus: and they so pelted her, i'faith, pitter patter, pitter patter, as thick as hail-stones. And after that, a whole rout of 'em: never was a woman in Phrygia better kissed.

Troil. [Aside.] Hector said true: I find, I find it now!

Pand. And, last of all, comes me Diomede, so demurely: that's a notable sly rogue, I warrant him! mercy upon us, how he laid her on upon the lips! for, as I told you, she's most mightily made on among the Greeks. What, cheer up, I say, man! she has every one's good word. I think, in my conscience, she was born with a caul upon her head.

Troil. [Aside.] Hell, death, confusion, how he tortures me!

Pand. And that rogue-priest, my brother, is so courted and treated for her sake: the young sparks do so pull him about, and haul him by the cassock: nothing but invitations to his tent, and his tent, and his tent. Nay, and one of 'em was so bold, as to ask him, if she were a virgin; and with that, the rogue, my brother, takes me up a little god in his hand, and kisses it, and swears devoutly that she was; then was I ready to burst my sides with laughing, to think what had passed betwixt you two.

Pand. What, would you make a monopoly of a woman's lips? a little consolation, or so, might be allowed, one would think, in a lover's absence.

Troil. Hence from my sight!
Let ignominy brand thy hated name;
Let modest matrons at thy mention start;
And blushing virgins, when they read our annals,
Skip o'er the guilty page that holds thy legend,
And blots the noble work.

Pand. O world, world: thou art an ungrateful patch of earth! Thus the poor agent is despised! he labours painfully in his calling, and trudges between parties: but when their turns are served, come out's too good for him. I am mighty melancholy. I'll e'en go home, and shut up my doors, and die o' the sullens, like an old bird in a cage!
[Exit Pandarus.

Enter Diomede and Thersites.

Thers. [Aside.] There, there he is; now let it work: now play thy part, jealousy, and twinge 'em: put 'em between thy mill-stones, and grind the rogues together.

Diom. My lord, I am by Ajax sent to inform you,
This hour must end the truce.

Æn. to Troil. Contain yourself:
Think where we are.

Diom. Your stay will be unsafe.

Troil. It may, for those I hate.

Thers. [Aside.] Well said, Trojan: there's the first hit.

Thers. [Aside.] What affairs? what affairs? demand that, dolt-head! the rogue will lose a quarrel, for want of wit to ask that question.

Troil. May I enquire where your affairs conduct you?

Thers. [Aside.] Well said again; I beg thy pardon.

Diom. Oh, it concerns you not.

Troil. Perhaps it does.

Diom. You are too inquisitive: nor am I bound
To satisfy an enemy's request.

Troil. You have a ring upon your finger, Diomede,
And given you by a lady.

Diom. If it were,
'Twas given to one that can defend her gift.

Thers. [Aside.] So, so; the boars begin to gruntle at one another: set up your bristles now, a'both sides: whet and foam, rogues.

Troil. You must restore it, Greek, by heaven you must;
No spoil of mine shall grace a traitor's hand:
And, with it, give me back the broken vows
Of my false fair; which, perjured as she is,
I never will resign, but with my soul.

Diom. Then thou, it seems, art that forsaken fool,
Who, wanting merit to preserve her heart,
Repines in vain to see it better placed;
But know, (for now I take a pride to grieve thee)
Thou art so lost a thing in her esteem,
I never heard thee named, but some scorn followed:
Thou wert our table-talk for laughing meals;
Thy name our sportful theme for evening-walks,
And intermissive hours of cooler love,
When hand in hand we went.

Troil. Hell and furies!

Troil. Yet this was she, ye gods, that very she,
Who in my arms lay melting all the night;
Who kissed and sighed, and sighed and kissed again,
As if her soul flew upward to her lips,
To meet mine there, and panted at the passage;
Who, loth to find the breaking day, looked out,
And shrunk into my bosom, there to make
A little longer darkness.

Diom. Plagues and tortures!

Thers. Good, good, by Pluto! their fool's mad, to lose his harlot; and our fool's mad, that t'other fool had her first. If I sought peace now, I could tell 'em there's punk enough to satisfy 'em both: whore sufficient! but let 'em worry one another, the foolish curs; they think they never can have enough of carrion.

Æn. My lords, this fury is not proper here
In time of truce; if either side be injured,
To-morrow's sun will rise apace, and then—

Troil. And then! but why should I defer till then?
My blood calls now, there is no truce for traitors;
My vengeance rolls within my breast; it must,
It will have vent,—[Draws.

Diom. Hinder us not, Æneas,
My blood rides high as his; I trust thy honour,
And know thou art too brave a foe to break it.—[Draws.

Thers. Now, moon! now shine, sweet moon! let them have just light enough to make their passes; and not enough to ward them.

Diom. [Putting up.]
Be't so; and were it on some precipice,
High as Olympus, and a sea beneath,
Call when thou dar'st, just on the sharpest point
I'll meet, and tumble with thee to destruction.

Troil. A gnawing conscience haunts not guilty men,
As I'll haunt thee, to summon thee to this;
Nay, shouldst thou take the Stygian lake for refuge,
I'll plunge in after, through the boiling flames,
To push thee hissing down the vast abyss.

Diom. Where shall we meet?

Troil. Before the tent of Calchas.
Thither, through all your troops, I'll fight my way;
And in the sight of perjured Cressida,
Give death to her through thee.

Diom. 'Tis largely promised;
But I disdain to answer with a boast.
Be sure thou shalt be met.

Troil. And thou be found. [Exeunt Troilus and Æneas one way; Diomede the other.

ACT V. SCENE I.

Hector, Trojans, Andromache.

Hect. The blue mists rise from off the nether grounds,
And the sun mounts apace. To arms, to arms!
I am resolved to put to the utmost proof
The fate of Troy this day.

Andr. [Aside.] Oh wretched woman, oh!

Hect. Methought I heard you sigh, Andromache.

Andr. Did you, my lord?

Hect. Did you, my lord? you answer indirectly;
Just when I said, that I would put our fate
Upon the extremest proof, you fetched a groan;
And, as you checked yourself for what you did,
You stifled it and stopt. Come, you are sad.

Andr. The gods forbid!

Hect. What should the gods forbid?

Andr. That I should give you cause of just offence.

Andr. The gods protect you, and restore you to me!

Hect. What, grown a coward! Thou wert used, Andromache,
To give my courage courage; thou would'st cry,—
Go Hector, day grows old, and part of fame
Is ravished from thee by thy slothful stay.

Andr. [Aside.] What shall I do to seem the same I was?—
Come, let me gird thy fortune to thy side,
And conquest sit as close and sure as this. [She goes to gird his sword, and it falls.
Now mercy, heaven! the gods avert this omen!

Hect. A foolish omen! take it up again,
And mend thy error.

Andr. I cannot, for my hand obeys me not;
But, as in slumbers, when we fain would run
From our imagined fears, our idle feet
Grow to the ground, our struggling voice dies inward;
So now, when I would force myself to chear you,
My faltering tongue can give no glad presage:
Alas, I am no more Andromache.

Hect. Why then thy former soul is flown to me;
For I, methinks, am lifted into air,
As if my mind, mastering my mortal part,
Would bear my exalted body to the gods.
Last night I dreamt Jove sat on Ida's top,
And, beckoning with his hand divine from far,
He pointed to a choir of demi-gods,
Bacchus and Hercules, and all the rest,
Who, free from human toils, had gained the pitch
Of blest eternity;—Lo there, he said,
Lo there's a place for Hector.

Andr. Be to thy enemies this boding dream!

Hect. Why, it portends me honour and renown.

Hect. Go to thy bed again, and there dream better.—
Ho! bid my trumpet sound.

Andr. No notes of sally, for the heaven's sweet sake!
'Tis not for nothing when my spirits droop;
This is a day when thy ill stars are strong,
When they have driven thy helpless genius down
The steep of heaven, to some obscure retreat.

Hect. No more; even as thou lovest my fame, no more;
My honour stands engaged to meet Achilles.
What will the Grecians think, or what will he,
Or what will Troy, or what wilt thou thyself,
When once this ague fit of fear is o'er,
If I should lose my honour for a dream?

Andr. Your enemies too well your courage know,
And heaven abhors the forfeit of rash vows,
Like spotted livers in a sacrifice.
I cannot, O I dare not let you go;
For, when you leave me, my presaging mind
Says, I shall never, never see you more.

Hect. Thou excellently good, but oh too soft,
Let me not 'scape the danger of this day;
But I have struggling in my manly soul,
To see those modest tears, ashamed to fall,
And witness any part of woman in thee!
And now I fear, lest thou shouldst think it fear,
If, thus dissuaded, I refuse to fight,
And stay inglorious in thy arms at home.

Hect. Our life is short, but to extend that span
To vast eternity, is virtue's work;
Therefore to thee, and not to fear of fate,
Which once must come to all, give I this day.
But see thou move no more the like request;
For rest assured, that, to regain this hour,
To-morrow will I tempt a double danger.
Mean time, let destiny attend thy leisure;
I reckon this one day a blank of life.

Enter Troilus.

Troil. Where are you, brother? now, in honour's name,
What do you mean to be thus long unarmed?
The embattled soldiers throng about the gates;
The matrons to the turrets' tops ascend,
Holding their helpless children in their arms,
To make you early known to their young eyes,
And Hector is the universal shout.

Hect. Bid all unarm; I will not fight to-day.

Troil. Employ some coward to bear back this news,
And let the children hoot him for his pains.
By all the gods, and by my just revenge,
This sun shall shine the last for them or us;
These noisy streets, or yonder echoing plains,
Shall be to-morrow silent as the grave.

Andr. O brother, do not urge a brother's fate,
But, let this wreck of heaven and earth roll o'er,
And, when the storm is past, put out to sea.

Hect. You know my name's not liable to fear.

Troil. Yes, to the worst of fear,—to superstition.
But whether that, or fondness of a wife,
(The more unpardonable ill) has seized you,
Know this, the Grecians think you fear Achilles,
And that Polyxena has begged your life.

Hect. How! that my life is begged, and by my sister?

Troil. Ulysses so informed me at our parting,
With a malicious and disdainful smile:
'Tis true, he said not, in broad words, you feared;
But in well-mannered terms 'twas so agreed,
Achilles should avoid to meet with Hector.

Hect. He thinks my sister's treason my petition;
That, largely vaunting, in my heat of blood,
More than I could, it seems, or durst perform,
I sought evasion.

Troil. And in private prayed—

Hect. O yes, Polyxena to beg my life.

Andr. He cannot think so;—do not urge him thus.

Troil. Then you'll refuse no more to fight?

Hect. Refuse! I'll not be hindered, brother.
I'll through and through them, even their hindmost ranks,
Till I have found that large-sized boasting fool,
Who dares presume my life is in his gift.

Andr. Farewell, farewell; 'tis vain to strive with fate!
Cassandra's raging god inspires my breast
With truths that must be told, and not believed.
Look how he dies! look how his eyes turn pale!
Look how his blood bursts out at many vents!
Hark how Troy roars, how Hecuba cries out,
And widowed I fill all the streets with screams!
Behold distraction, frenzy, and amazement,
Like antiques meet, and tumble upon heaps!
And all cry, Hector, Hector's dead! Oh Hector![Exit.

Hect. What sport will be, when we return at evening,
To laugh her out of countenance for her dreams!

Troil. I have not quenched my eyes with dewy sleep this night;
But fiery fumes mount upward to my brains,
And, when I breathe, methinks my nostrils hiss!
I shall turn basilisk, and with my sight
Do my hands' work on Diomede this day.

Hect. To arms, to arms! the vanguards are engaged
Let us not leave one man to guard the walls;
Both old and young, the coward and the brave,
Be summoned all, our utmost fate to try,
And as one body move, whose soul am I.[Exeunt.