Consort with me in loud and dear pet.i.tion, Pursue we him on knees; for I have dreamt Of b.l.o.o.d.y turbulence, and this whole night Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter.

Ca.s.sANDRA. O, 'tis true!

HECTOR. Ho! bid my trumpet sound.

Ca.s.sANDRA. No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet brother!

HECTOR. Be gone, I say. The G.o.ds have heard me swear.

Ca.s.sANDRA. The G.o.ds are deaf to hot and peevish vows; They are polluted off'rings, more abhorr'd Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.

ANDROMACHE. O, be persuaded! Do not count it holy To hurt by being just. It is as lawful, For we would give much, to use violent thefts And rob in the behalf of charity.

Ca.s.sANDRA. It is the purpose that makes strong the vow; But vows to every purpose must not hold.

Unarm, sweet Hector.

HECTOR. Hold you still, I say.

Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate.

Life every man holds dear; but the dear man Holds honour far more precious dear than life.

Enter TROILUS

How now, young man! Mean'st thou to fight to-day?

ANDROMACHE. Ca.s.sandra, call my father to persuade.

Exit Ca.s.sANDRA HECTOR. 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.

TROILUS. Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you Which better fits a lion than a man.

HECTOR. What vice is that, good Troilus?

Chide me for it.

TROILUS. When many times the captive Grecian falls, Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword, You bid them rise and live.

HECTOR. O, 'tis fair play!

TROILUS. Fool's play, by heaven, Hector.

HECTOR. How now! how now!

TROILUS. For th' love of all the G.o.ds, Let's leave the hermit Pity with our mother; And when we have our armours buckled on, The venom'd vengeance ride upon our swords, Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth!

HECTOR. Fie, savage, fie!

TROILUS. Hector, then 'tis wars.

HECTOR. Troilus, I would not have you fight to-day.

TROILUS. 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'ergalled 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.

Re-enter Ca.s.sANDRA, with PRIAM

Ca.s.sANDRA. Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him fast; He is thy crutch; now if thou lose thy stay, Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee, Fall all together.

PRIAM. Come, Hector, come, go back.

Thy wife hath dreamt; thy mother hath had visions; Ca.s.sandra doth foresee; and I myself Am like a prophet suddenly enrapt To tell thee that this day is ominous.

Therefore, come back.

HECTOR. Aeneas is a-field; And I do stand engag'd to many Greeks, Even in the faith of valour, to appear This morning to them.

PRIAM. Ay, but thou shalt not go.

HECTOR. I must not break my faith.

You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sir, Let me not shame respect; but give me leave To take that course by your consent and voice Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam.

Ca.s.sANDRA. O Priam, yield not to him!

ANDROMACHE. Do not, dear father.

HECTOR. Andromache, I am offended with you.

Upon the love you bear me, get you in.

Exit ANDROMACHE TROILUS. This foolish, dreaming, superst.i.tious girl Makes all these bodements.

Ca.s.sANDRA. 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; Behold distraction, frenzy, and amazement, Like witless antics, one another meet, And all cry, Hector! Hector's dead! O Hector!

TROILUS. Away, away!

Ca.s.sANDRA. Farewell!-yet, soft! Hector, I take my leave.

Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive. Exit HECTOR. 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.

PRIAM. Farewell. The G.o.ds with safety stand about thee!

Exeunt severally PRIAM and HECTOR. Alarums TROILUS. They are at it, hark! Proud Diomed, believe, I come to lose my arm or win my sleeve.

Enter PANDARUS

PANDARUS. Do you hear, my lord? Do you hear?

TROILUS. What now?

PANDARUS. Here's a letter come from yond poor girl.

TROILUS. Let me read.

PANDARUS. A wh.o.r.eson tisick, a wh.o.r.eson rascally tisick so troubles me, and the foolish fortune of this girl, and what one thing, what another, that I shall leave you one o' th's days; and I have a rheum in mine eyes too, and such an ache in my bones that unless a man were curs'd I cannot tell what to think on't. What says she there?

TROILUS. Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart; Th' effect doth operate another way.

[Tearing the letter]

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

ACT V. SCENE 4.

The plain between Troy and the Grecian camp

Enter THERSITES. Excursions

THERSITES. 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 Troyan a.s.s that loves the wh.o.r.e there might send that Greekish wh.o.r.emasterly villain with the sleeve back to the dissembling luxurious drab of a sleeve-less errand. A th' t'other side, the policy of those crafty swearing rascals-that stale old mouse-eaten dry cheese, Nestor, and that same dog-fox, Ulysses -is not prov'd 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.

Enter DIOMEDES, TROILUS following

Soft! here comes sleeve, and t'other.

TROILUS. Fly not; for shouldst thou take the river Styx I would swim after.

DIOMEDES. Thou dost miscall retire.

I do not fly; but advantageous care Withdrew me from the odds of mult.i.tude.

Have at thee.

THERSITES. Hold thy wh.o.r.e, Grecian; now for thy wh.o.r.e, Troyan-now the sleeve, now the sleeve!

Exeunt TROILUS and DIOMEDES fighting

Enter HECTOR

HECTOR. What art thou, Greek? Art thou for Hector's match?

Art thou of blood and honour?

THERSITES. No, no-I am a rascal; a scurvy railing knave; a very filthy rogue.

HECTOR. I do believe thee. Live. Exit THERSITES. G.o.d-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 swallowed one another. I would laugh at that miracle. Yet, in a sort, lechery eats itself. I'll seek them. Exit