Unarm, sweet Hector. Hold you still, I say ; Enter Troilus. 1 day? (Exit Cassandra. Hect. No, 'faith, young Troilus; dofft thy har ness, youth, I am to-day i'the 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. Hect. 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. Hect. 0, 'tis fair play. Tro. Fool's play, by heaven, Hector. Hect. How now? how now? Tro. For the love of all the gods, Hect. Fye, savage, fye! Hector, then 'tis wars. Tro. Who should withhold me? Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars * Valuable. t Put off. Rueful, woeful. § Mercy. Beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire; Re-enter Cassandra, with Priam. Come, Hector, come, go back : Æneas is afield; But thou shalt not go. Cas. O Priam, yield not to him. Do not, dear father. Hect. Andromache, I am offended with you: Upon the love you bear me, get you in. (Exit Andromache. Tro. This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl, Makes all these bodements. Cas. O farewell, dear Hector. Look, how thou diest! look, how thy eye turns pale ! Look, how thy wounds do bleed at many vents ! Hark, how Troy roars ! how Hecuba cries out ! How poor Andromache shrills her dolours forth ! VOL. VII. Behold, destruction, frenzy, and amazement, Tro. Away !-Away! leave : Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive. (Exit. Hect. You are amaz’d, my liege, at her exclaim: Go in, and cheer the town: we'll forth, and fight; Do deeds worth praise, and tell you them at night. Pri. Farewell : the gods with safety stand about thee ! [Exeunt severally Priam and Hector. Alarums. Tro. They are at it; hark ! Proud Diomed, be lieve, I come to lose my arm, or win my sleeve. As Troilus is going out, enter, from the other side, Pandarus. Pan. A whoreson ptisick, a whoreson rascally ptisick 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 acbe in niy bones, that, unless a man were cursed, I cannot tell what to think on't. What says she there? Tro. Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart; [Tearing the letter. The effect doth operate another way.Go, wind, to wind, there turn and change together.My love with words and errors still she feeds; But edifies another with her deeds. [Exeunt severally. SCENE IV. Alarums : excursions. Enter Thersites. Ther. Now they are clapper-clawing one another; I'll go look on. That dissembling abominable varlet, Diomed, has got that same scurvy doting foolish young 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 whoremasterly villain, with the sleeve, back to the dissembling luxurious drab, on a sleeveless errand. O'the other side, The policy of those crafty swearing rascals,—that stale old mouse-eaten dry cheese, Nestor; and that samedog-fox, Ulysses, is not proved worth a blackberry :-They set me up, in policy, - that mongrel 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 come sleeve, and t’other. Entér Diomedes, Troilus following. Styx, Thou dost miscall retire : Ther. Hold thy whore, Grecian !--now for thy whore, Trojan-now the sleeve, now the sleeve ! [Exeunt Troilus and Diomedes, fighting. Enter Hector. Hect. What art thou, Greek ? art thou for Hee tor's match ? Art thou of blood, and honour ? Ther. No, No :-I am a rascal; a scurvy railing knave; a very filthy rogue. Hect. I do believe thee ;-live. Erit. Ther. God-a-mercy, that thou wilt believe we; But a plague break thy neck, for frighting me! What's become of the wenching rogues ? I think, they have swallowed one another: I would laugh at that miracle. Yet, in a sort, lechery eats itself. I'll seek then, [Exit. SCENE V. The same. Enter Diomedes and a Servant. horse; I go, my lord. [Exit Servant. Enter Agamemnon. Agam. Renew, renew! The fierce Polydamus Hath beat down Menon : bastard Margarelon Hath Doreus prisoner ; And stands colossus-wise, waving his beam * Upon the pashed + corses of the kings Epistrophus and Cedius: Polixenes is slain; Amphimachus, and Thoas, deadly hurt; Patroclus ta’en, or slain; and Palamedes Some hurt and bruised : the dreadful sagittary Appals our numbers ; haste we, Diomed, To reinforcement, or we perish all. * Lance. of Bruised, crushed. |