TROILUS AND CRESSIDA. That what he will he does; and does so much drab, of a sleeveless errand. O' the other side, | Fall down before him like the mower's swath: the policy of those crafty swearing rascals,-that Here, there, and everywhere, he leaves and stale old mouse-eaten dry cheese, Nestor, and that same dog-fox, Ulysses,-is not proved worth a takes; blackberry:-They set me up, in policy, that mongrel our, 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 comes sleeve and t'other. Enter DIOMEDES, TROILUS following. I would swim after. Dio. Thou dost miscall retire: I do not fly; but advantageous care Withdrew me from the odds of multitude: Have at thee! Enter ULYSSES. Ulyss. O courage, courage, princes! great Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance; Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend, T'her. Hold thy whore, Grecian!-now for thy With such a careless force, and forceless care, whore, Trojan!-now the sleeve, now the sleeve! [Exeunt TROILUS and DIOMEDES, fighting. Enter HECTOR. Hect. What art thou, Greek, art thou for 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. [Exit. Ther. God-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. SCENE V.-The same. Enter DIOMEDES and a Servant. Dio. Go, go, my servant, take thou Troilus' horse! Present the fair steed to my lady Cressid: I go, my lord. Enter AGAMEMNON. Agam. Renew, renew! The fierce Polydamus Hath beat down Menon: bastard Margarelon And stands colossus-wise, waving his beam, Enter NESTOR. Nest. Go, bear Patroclus' body to Achilles; As if that luck, in very spite of cunning, Ere that correction:-Troilus, I sav! what, Troilus! But thou anon shalt hear of me again; [Exit. Tro. Ajax hath ta'en Æneas: Shall it be? Enter one in sumptuous armour. [E.cit. Enter ACHILLES, with Myrmidons. Achil. Come here about me, you my Myrmidons; Mark what I say.--Attend me where I wheel: Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath; And when I have the bloody Hector found, Empale him with your weapons round about; In fellest manner execute your arms. Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye:It is decreed Hector the great must die. [Exeunt. SCENE VIII.-The same. Enter MENELAUS and PARIS, fighting: then THERSITES. Ther. The cuckold and the cuckold-maker are at it: Now, bull! now, dog! 'Loo, Paris, 'loo! now my double-henned sparrow! loo, Paris, loo! The bull has the game:-'ware horns, ho! [Ex. PAR. and MEN. Even with the vail and darking of the sun So, Ilion, fall thou; now, Troy, sink down; [A retreat sounded. Hark! a retreat upon our Grecian part. Myr. The Trojan trumpets sound the like, my lord. Achil. The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the earth, And, stickler-like, the armies separate. My half-supp'd sword that frankly would have fed, Pleas'd with this dainty bit, thus goes to bed.- Enter AGAMEMNON, AJAX, MENELAUS, NESTOR, Achilles! Hector's slain! Achilles! Ajax. If it be so, yet bragless let it be; Agam. March patiently along:- Let one be sent To pray Achilles see us at our tent. If in his death the gods have us befriended, Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are ended [Exeunt marching SCENE XI.-Another part of the Field. Enter ENEAS and Trojans. Ene. 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! Sit, gods, upon your thrones, and smile at Troy! I say, at once, let your brief plagues be mercy, And linger not our sare destructions on! Ene. 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 you set a'work, and how ill requited! Why should our endeavour be so desired, and the performance so loathed? what verse for it? what instance for it ?-Let me see: Full merrily the humble-bee doth sing, Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar's fall: It should be now, but that my fear is this,- [Exil. If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus, Hor. Friends to this ground. And liegemen to the Dane. O, farewell, honest soldier: Fran. Give you good night. Mar. Who hath reliev'd you? Fran. Give you good night. Mar. Ber. Bernardo hath my place. [Exit FRAN. Holla! Bernardo! What, is Horatio there? Hor. Say. A piece of him. Ber. Welcome, Horatio; welcome, good Marcellus. Mar. What, has this thing appear'd again to-night? Ber. I have seen nothing. Mar. Horatio says, 'tis but our fantasy; That, if again this apparition come, Sit down awhile, And let us once again assail your ears, Hor. When yon same star, that's westward from the pole, Had made his course to illumine that part of heaven Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself, Mar. Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again! Enter Ghost. Ber. In the same figure, like the king that's dead. Mar. Thou art a scholar, speak to it, Horatio. Ber. Looks it not like the king? mark it, Horatio. Hor. Most like:-it harrows me with fear and wonder. Ber. It would be spoke to. Together with that fair and warlike form See! it stalks away. Hor. Stay; speak: speak I charge thee, speak. [Exit Ghost. Mar. "Tis gone, and will not answer. Is not this something more than fantasy? Hor. Before my God, I might not this believe HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK. Mar. Is it not like the king? "Tis strange. Mar. Thus, twice before, and just at this dead With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch. But, in the gross and scope of my opinion, Why this same strict and most observant watch task Does not divide the Sunday from the week: Hor. At least, the whisper goes so. Our last king, Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands, Had he been vanquisher; as by the same cov'nant Ber. I think it be no other, but even so: Hor. A moth it is to trouble the mind's eye. Re-enter Ghost. But, soft; behold! lo, where it comes again! If there be any good thing to be done, If thou art privy to thy country's fate, Or, if thou hast uphoarded in thy life Ber. Hor. Mar. "Tis gone! "Tis here! "Tis nere: [Exit Ghost We do it wrong, being so majestical, Ber. It was about to speak, when the cock crew The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, Mar. It faded on the crowing of the cock. Hor. So have I heard, and do in part believe it Mar. Let's do't, I pray: and I this morning Where we shall find him most conveniently SCENE II.-The same. [Exeunt. A Room of State in the same. King. Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's The memory be green; and that it us befitted |