Troilus. Let it not be believ'd for1 womanhood! Think, we had mothers; do not give advantage To stubborn criticks-apt, without a theme, For depravation,-to square the general sex By Cressid's rule: rather think this not Cressid. Ulysses. What hath she done, prince, that can so our mothers? Troilus. Nothing at all, unless that this were she. This was not she. O madness of discourse, The fractions of her faith, orts of her love, Inflam'd with Venus: never did young man fancy3 1 For the sake of. 2 Cynics. 3 Love. With so eternal and so fix'd a soul. Hark, Greek ;-As much as I do Cressid love, That sleeve is mine, that he'll bear on his helm ; Thersites. He'll tickle it. Troilus. O Cressid! O false Cressid! false, false, false! Let all untruths stand by thy stained name, And they'll seem glorious. Ulysses. O, contain yourself; Your passion draws ears hither. Enter ENEAS. Eneas. I have been seeking you this hour, my lord: Hector, by this, is arming him in Troy; Ajax, your guard, stays to conduct you home. Troilus. Have with you, prince :-My courteous lord, adieu: Farewell, revolted fair!-and, Diomed, Stand fast, and wear a castle on thy head! Ulysses. I'll bring you to the gates. Troilus. Accept distracted thanks. [Exeunt TROILUS, ÆNEAS, and ULYSSES. Thersites. 'Would, I could meet that rogue, Diomed! I would croak like a raven; I would bode, I would bode. 4 Compressed. [Exit. SCENE III.-TROY. Before PRIAM's Palace. Enter HECTOR and ANDROMACHE. Andromache. When was my lord so much ungently temper'd, To stop his ears against admonishment? Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to-day. Hector. You train me to offend you: get you in: By all the everlasting gods, I'll go. Andromache. My dreams will, sure, prove ominous to Where is my brother Hector? Andromache. Here, sister; arm'd, and bloody in intent: Consort with me in loud and dear petition, Pursue we him on knees; for I have dream'd Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter. Hector. Ho! bid my trumpet sound! Cassandra. No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet brother. Hector. Begone, I say: the gods have heard me swear. Cassandra. The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows; They are polluted offerings, 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. Cassandra. 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; 5 Foolish. Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate: Enter TROILUS. How now, young man, mean'st thou to fight to-day? Andromache. Cassandra, call my father to persuade. [Exit CASSANDRA. Hector. No, 'faith, young Troilus; doff thy harness, youth, I am to-day i' the vein of chivalry: Let grow thy sinews till their knots be strong, Unarm thee, go; and doubt thou not, brave boy, 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 Grecians fall, 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? For the love of all the gods, Let's leave the hermit pity with our mother; Troilus. Hector, then 'tis wars. Hector. Troilus, I would not have you fight to-day. Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars Their eyes o'ergalled with recourse of tears; 6 Put off. 7 Rueful, woeful. 8 Mercy. Nor you, my brother, with your true sword drawn, Re-enter CASSANDRA, with PRIAM. Cassandra. 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 dream'd; thy mother hath had visions; Hector. Eneas is a-field: And I do stand engag'd to many Greeks, This morning to them. Priam. But thou shalt not go. Hector. I must not break my faith. You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sir, Cassandra. O Priam, yield not to him. Do not, dear father. Troilus. This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl, Makes all these bodements. Cassandra. [Exit ANDROMACHE. O farewell, dear Hector. Look, how thou diest! look, how thy eye turns pale! Look, how thy wounds do bleed at many vents! |