SCENE II—The Camp.

Alarm within. Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Menelaus, Soldiers.

Agam. Thus far the promise of the day is fair.
Æneas rather loses ground than gains.
I saw him over-laboured, taking breath,
And leaning on his spear, behold our trenches,
Like a fierce lion looking up to toils,
Which yet he durst not leap.

Ulys. And therefore distant death does all the work;
The flights of whistling darts make brown the sky,
Whose clashing points strike fire, and gild the dusk;
Those, that reach home, from neither host are vain,
So thick the prease; so lusty are their arms,
That death seemed never sent with better will.
Nor was with less concernment entertained.

Enter Nestor.

Agam. Now, Nestor, what's the news?

Nest. I have descried
A cloud of dust, that mounts in pillars upwards,
Expanding as it travels to our camp;
And from the midst I heard a bursting shout,
That rent the heaven; as if all Troy were swarmed.
And on the wing this way.

Menel. Let them come, let them come.

Agam. Where's great Achilles?

Ulys. Think not on Achilles,
Till Hector drag him from his tent to fight;
Which sure he will, for I have laid the train.

Nest. But young Patroclus leads his Myrmidons,
And in their front, even in the face of Hector,
Resolves to dare the Trojans.

Ulys. Oh noble general, let it not be so.
Oppose not rage, while rage is in its force,
But give it way awhile, and let it waste.
The rising deluge is not stopt with dams;
Those it o'erbears, and drowns the hopes of harvest;
But, wisely managed, its divided strength
Is sluiced in channels, and securely drained.
First, let small parties dally with their fury;
But when their force is spent and unsupplied,
The residue with mounds may be restrained,
And dry-shod we may pass the naked ford.

Enter Thersites.

Thers. Ho, ho, ho!

Menel. Why dost thou laugh, unseasonable fool?

Thers. Why, thou fool in season, cannot a man laugh, but thou thinkest he makes horns at thee? Thou prince of the herd, what hast thou to do with laughing? 'Tis the prerogative of a man, to laugh. Thou risibility without reason, thou subject of laughter, thou fool royal!

Ulys. But tell us the occasion of thy mirth?

Thers. Now a man asks me, I care not if I answer to my own kind.—Why, the enemies are broken into our trenches; fools like Menelaus fall by thousands yet not a human soul departs on either side. Troilus and Ajax have almost beaten one another's heads off, but are both immortal for want of brains. Patroclus has killed Sarpedon, and Hector Patroclus, so there is a towardly springing fop gone off; he might have made a prince one day, but now he's nipt in the very bud and promise of a most prodigious coxcomb.

Ulys. Open your ranks, and make these madmen way,
Then close again to charge upon their backs,
And quite consume the relics of the war. [Exeunt all but Thersites.

Thers. What shoals of fools one battle sweeps away! How it purges families of younger brothers, highways of robbers, and cities of cuckold-makers! There is nothing like a pitched battle for these brisk addle-heads! Your physician is a pretty fellow, but his fees make him tedious, he rides not fast enough; the fools grow upon him, and their horse bodies are poison proof. Your pestilence is a quicker remedy, but it has not the grace to make distinction; it huddles up honest men and rogues together. But your battle has discretion; it picks out all the forward fools, and sowses them together into immortality. [Shouts and alarms within] Plague upon these drums and trumpets! these sharp sauces of the war, to get fools an appetite to fighting! What do I among them? I shall be mistaken for some valiant ass, and die a martyr in a wrong religion.
[Here Grecians fly over the stage pursued by Trojans; one Trojan turns back upon Thersites who is flying too.

Troj. Turn, slave, and fight.

Thers. [turning.] What art thou?

Troj. A bastard son of Priam's.

Thers. I am a bastard too, I love bastards, I am bastard in body, bastard in mind, bastard in valour, in every thing illegitimate. A bear will not fasten upon a bear; why should one bastard offend another! Let us part fair, like true sons of whores, and have the fear of our mothers before our eyes.

Thers. Now, would I were either invisible or invulnerable! These gods have a fine time on it; they can see and make mischief, and never feel it.
[Clattering of swords at both doors; he runs each way, and meets the noise.

A pox clatter you! I am compassed in. Now would I were that blockhead Ajax for a minute. Some sturdy Trojan will poach me up with a long pole! and then the rogues may kill one another at free cost, and have nobody left to laugh at them. Now destruction! now destruction!

Enter Hector and Troilus driving in the Greeks.

Hect. to Thers. Speak what part thou fightest on!

Thers. I fight not at all; I am for neither side.

Hect. Thou art a Greek; art thou a match for Hector?
Art thou of blood and honour?

Thers. No, I am a rascal, a scurvy railing knave, a very filthy rogue.

Hect. I do believe thee; live.

Thers. God-a-mercy, that thou wilt believe me; but the devil break thy neck for frighting me. [Aside.

Troil. (returning.) What prisoner have you there?

Hect. A gleaning of the war; a rogue, he says.

Troil. Dispatch him, and away.[Going to kill him.

Troil. Shew me that Diomede, and thou shalt live.

Thers. Come along with me, and I will conduct thee to Calchas's tent, where I believe he is now, making war with the priest's daughter.

Hect. Here we must part, our destinies divide us;
Brother and friend, farewell.

Troil. When shall we meet?

Hect. When the gods please; if not, we once must part.
Look; on yon hill their squandered troops unite.

Troil. If I mistake not, 'tis their last reserve:
The storm's blown o'er, and those but after-drops.

Hect. I wish our men be not too far engaged;
For few we are and spent, as having born
The burthen of the day: But, hap what can,
They shall be charged; Achilles must be there,
And him I seek, or death.
Divide our troops, and take the fresher half.

Troil. O brother!

Hect. No dispute of ceremony:
These are enow for me, in faith enow.
Their bodies shall not flag while I can lead;
Nor wearied limbs confess mortality,
Before those ants, that blacken all yon hill,
Are crept into the earth. Farewell.[Exit Hect.

Troil. Farewell.—Come, Greek.

Thers. Now these rival rogues will clapperclaw one another, and I shall have the sport of it.
[Exit Troil. with Thers.

Enter Achilles and Myrmidons.

Achill. Which way went Hector?

Achil. O thou art gone, thou sweetest, best of friends!
Why did I let thee tempt the shock of war,
Ere yet the tender nerves had strung thy limbs,
And knotted into strength! Yet, though too late,
I will, I will revenge thee, my Patroclus!
Nor shall thy ghost thy murderers long attend,
But thou shalt hear him calling Charon back,
Ere thou art wafted to the farther shore.—
Make haste, my soldiers; give me this day's pains
For my dead friend: strike every hand with mine,
Till Hector breathless on the ground we lay!
Revenge is honour, the securest way.[Exit with Myrm.

Enter Thersites, Troilus, Trojans.

Thers. That's Calchas's tent.

Troil. Then, that one spot of earth contains more falsehood,
Than all the sun sees in his race beside.
That I should trust the daughter of a priest!
Priesthood, that makes a merchandise of heaven!
Priesthood, that sells even to their prayers and blessings
And forces us to pay for our own cozenage!

Thers. Nay, cheats heaven too with entrails and with offals;
Gives it the garbage of a sacrifice,
And keeps the best for private luxury.

Troil. Thou hast deserved thy life for cursing priests.
Let me embrace thee; thou art beautiful:
. That back, that nose, those eyes are beautiful:
Live; thou art honest, for thou hat'st a priest.

Troil. Methinks, my soul is roused to her last work;
Has much to do, and little time to spare.
She starts within me, like a traveller,
Who sluggishly outslept his morning hour,
And mends his pace to reach his inn betimes. [Noise within, Follow, follow!
A noise of arms! the traitor may be there;
Or else, perhaps, that conscious scene of love,
The tent, may hold him; yet I dare not search,
For oh, I fear to find him in that place.[Exit Troilus.

Enter Calchas and Cressida.

Cres. Where is he? I'll be justified, or die.

Calch. So quickly vanished! he was here but now.
He must be gone to search for Diomede;
For Diomede told me, here they were to fight.

Cres. Alas!

Calch. You must prevent, and not complain.

Cres. If Troilus die, I have no share in life.

Calch. If Diomede sink beneath the sword of Troilus
We lose not only a protector here,
But are debarred all future means of flight.

Cres. What then remains?

Calch. To interpose betimes
Betwixt their swords; or, if that cannot be,
To intercede for him, who shall be vanquished.
Fate leaves no middle course.[Exit Calchas.

Clashing within.

Cres. Ah me! I hear them,
And fear 'tis past prevention.

Troil. Now beg thy life, or die.

Diom. No; use thy fortune:
I loath the life, which thou canst give, or take.

Troil. Scorn'st thou my mercy, villain!—Take thy wish.—

Cres. Hold, hold your hand, my lord, and hear me speak.
[Troilus turns back; in which time Diomede rises, Trojans and Greeks enter, and rank themselves on both sides of their Captains.

Troil. Did I not hear the voice of perjured Cressida?
Com'st thou to give the last stab to my heart?
As if the proofs of all thy former falsehood
Were not enough convincing, com'st thou now
To beg my rival's life?
Whom, oh, if any spark of truth remained,
Thou couldst not thus, even to my face, prefer.

Cres. What shall I say!—that you suspect me false,
Has struck me dumb! but let him live, my Troilus;
By all our loves, by all our past endearments,
I do adjure thee, spare him.

Troil. Hell and death!

Cres. If ever I had power to bend your mind,
Believe me still your faithful Cressida;
And though my innocence appear like guilt,
Because I make his forfeit life my suit,
'Tis but for this, that my return to you
Would be cut off for ever by his death;
My father, treated like a slave, and scorned;
Myself in hated bonds a captive held.

Cres. Alas! I but dissembled love to him.
If ever he had any proof, beyond
What modesty might give—

Diom. No! witness this.—[The Ring shewn.
There, take her, Trojan, thou deserv'st her best;
You good, kind-natured, well-believing fools,
Are treasures to a woman.
I was a jealous, hard, vexatious lover,
And doubted even this pledge,—till full possession;
But she was honourable to her word,
And I have no just reason to complain.

Cres. O unexampled, frontless impudence!

Troil. Hell, show me such another tortured wretch as Troilus!

Diom. Nay, grieve not; I resign her freely up;
I'm satisfied; and dare engage for Cressida,
That, if you have a promise of her person,
She shall be willing to come out of debt.

Cres. [Kneeling.] My only lord, by all those holy vows,
Which, if there be a Power above, are binding,
Or, if there be a hell below, are fearful,
May every imprecation, which your rage
Can wish on me, take place, if I am false!

Diom. Nay, since you're so concerned to be believed,
I'm sorry I have pressed my charge so far:
Be what you would be thought; I can be grateful.

Troil. Grateful! Oh torment! now hell's bluest flames
Receive her quick, with all her crimes upon her!
Let her sink spotted down! let the dark host
Make room, and point, and hiss her as she goes!
Let the most branded ghosts of all her sex
Rejoice, and cry,—"Here comes a blacker fiend!"
Let her—

Diom. Help! save her, help!

Cres. Stand off, and touch me not, thou traitor Diomede;—
But you, my only Troilus, come near:
Trust me, the wound, which I have given this breast,
Is far less painful than the wound you gave it.
Oh, can you yet believe, that I am true?

Troil. This were too much, even if thou hadst been false!
But oh, thou purest, whitest innocence,—
For such I know thee now, too late I know it!—
May all my curses, and ten thousand more,
Heavier than they, fall back upon my head;
Pelion and Ossa, from the giants' graves
Be torn by some avenging deity,
And hurled at me, a bolder wretch than they,
Who durst invade the skies!

Cres. Hear him not, heavens;
But hear me bless him with my latest breath!
And, since I question not your hard decree,
That doomed my days unfortunate and few,
Add all to him you take away from me;
And I die happy, that he thinks me true.[Dies.

Diom. Thy worst, for mine has been beforehand with thee;
I triumph in thy vain credulity,
Which levels thy despairing state to mine;
But yet thy folly, to believe a foe,
Makes thine the sharper and more shameful loss.

Troil. By my few moments of remaining life,
I did not hope for any future joy;
But thou hast given me pleasure ere I die,
To punish such a villain.—Fight apart;[To his Soldiers.
For heaven and hell have marked him out for me,
And I should grudge even his least drop of blood
To any other hand. [Troilus and Diomede fight, and both Parties engage at the same time. The Trojans make the Greeks retire, and Troilus makes Diomede give ground, and hurts him. Trumpets sound. Achilles enters with his Myrmidons, on the backs of the Trojans, who fight in a ring, encompassed round. Troilus, singling Diomede, gets him down, and kills him; and Achilles kills Troilus upon him. All the Trojans die upon the place, Troilus last.

Enter Agamemnon, Menelaus, Ulysses, Nestor, Ajax, and Attendants.

Achil. Our toils are done, and those aspiring walls,
The work of gods, and almost mating heaven,
Must crumble into rubbish on the plain.

Agam. When mighty Hector fell beneath thy sword,
Their old foundations shook; their nodding towers
Threatened from high the amazed inhabitants;
And guardian-gods, for fear, forsook their fanes.

Ajax. Revenged it basely:
For Troilus fell by multitudes opprest,
And so fell Hector; but 'tis vain to talk.

Ulys. Hail, Agamemnon! truly victor now!
While secret envy, and while open pride,
Among thy factious nobles discord threw;
While public good was urged for private ends,
And those thought patriots, who disturbed it most;
Then, like the headstrong horses of the sun,
That light, which should have cheered the world, consumed it:
Now peaceful order has resumed the reins,
Old Time looks young, and Nature seems renewed.
Then, since from home-bred factions ruin springs,
Let subjects learn obedience to their kings.[Exeunt.

EPILOGUE,
SPOKEN BY THERSITES.

THE

SPANISH FRIAR;

OR,

THE DOUBLE DISCOVERY.

THE SPANISH FRIAR.

The Spanish Friar, or the Double Discovery, is one of the best and most popular of our poet's dramatic efforts. The plot is, as Johnson remarks, particularly happy, for the coincidence and coalition of the tragic and comic plots. The grounds for this eminent critic's encomium will be found to lie more deep than appears at first sight. It was, indeed, a sufficiently obvious connection, to make the gay Lorenzo an officer of the conquering army, and attached to the person of Torrismond. This expedient could hardly have escaped the invention of the most vulgar playwright, that ever dovetailed tragedy and comedy together. The felicity of Dryden's plot, therefore, does not consist in the ingenuity of his original conception, but in the minutely artificial strokes, by which the reader is perpetually reminded of the dependence of the one part of the play on the other. These are so frequent, and appear so very natural, that the comic plot, instead of diverting our attention from the tragic business, recals it to our mind by constant and unaffected allusion. No great event happens in the higher region of the camp or court, that has not some indirect influence upon the intrigues of Lorenzo and Elvira; and the part which the gallant is called upon to act in the revolution that winds up the tragic interest, while it is highly in character, serves to bring the catastrophe of both parts of the play under the eye of the spectator, at one and the same time. Thus much seemed necessary to explain the felicity of combination, upon which Dryden justly valued himself, and which Johnson sanctioned by his high commendation. But, although artfully conjoined, the different departments of this tragi-comedy are separate subjects of critical remark.