University of Virginia Library

ACTUS Quartus

SCENA Prima.

SCENE opens, and discovers Agamemnon, Achilles, Ulysses, Menelaus, Diomedes, and Ajax.
Aga.
Speak, wise Ulysses, what you have to say,
And what pertains to this so early meeting
At your request,

Ulyss.
I hope you are not all ill satisfied,
Wise Grecians, with the fruits of my Advice,
That yet have not misled you with my Counsels,
And that I have a heart, that dares contend
To do a deed of Glory to you all,
With Thetis Son, though loud and bold as Thunder,
And furious as an untam'd Lybian Lion,
Yet all that strength, without Mercurial Art,
And wise, and solid, gentle means to Govern,
Is like a rash, and mighty Elephant,
That in the Fight throws his stout Rider off,
And headlong drives, and scatters all before him,
And knows no Ranks of Friends nor Adversaries.

Ach.
Y'had best be brief; or with your Rhetorick,
Try if you can drive Hector from the Walls,
Hector whom ev'ry Moment we expect,
Wak'd by the Blood of Troilus, soon as
The Sun, to visit us before the Camp;
Or try to quench within this Breast of mine,
The horrid blazing Fire of my Revenge
For my dear slaughter'd Friend Patroclus—Do so;
But thou art wise, and knowest approaching Danger,
And always studiest to secure thy Head
From any Action falling on it.

Ulyss.
Achilles let me tell you, you can boast,
And praise your empty Valour, like the Winds,
That roar, and make a dreadful Noise of nothing.—
You told me that you sav'd me once in fight—
Might I have leave, wise Princes, to recount,
But in a word, the things that I have done,
You'd say with Justice, that Iv'e sav'd his Head,
And yours, and all from Ruin; that I have done more,
And with my Conduct, and these hands, have slain
More Trojans in the Field, than he, back'd on
With all his fatal Myrmidons, has done.

Ach.
By Peleus Soul, and Thetis Godhead, now
'Tis false, base Ithycan Thou shelter'st
Thy self from my just Rage beneath the Wing
Of this respected Presence, else I'de strike—
Strike, to thy Soul, this Javelin through thy Heart.

Aga.
What means this unjust Rage amongst your selves?

Men.
Achilles is too blame.

Ulyss.
What am I? Tell me Agamemnon, am I
A Prince equal to any, or a Slave?
Why am I call'd to Council hear among you?
Bear witness all ye Gods how I am injur'd!
That now I cannot have the liberty
O'th' meanest Officer of all the Army,
To speak my mind to th'benefit of Greece.—
Though I dare any thing with proud Achilles;
I claim my Ithycans all from service
Of your Interest, and that I may be hence dismiss'd.

Ach.
Yes, to a kiss of's dear Penelope.

Aga.
I charge you lay aside your Rage Achilles,
And you Ulysses, wisely rule your temper.
We all intreat you to disclose your mind,
And he that interrupts you after this,
Is Enemy to all—Is this a time
For grudging Animosities to Raign
In private Breasts?

Ach.
I am rebuk'd—
I can't be sooth'd, or bridl'd to a temper;
But shall give way to this sententious Man.
Exit Achilles.

Ulyss.
I need not call to your remembrance,
That we are all of mortal Bodies fram'd,
Of flesh though 't has so many stroaks indur'd
Of Ten years Labour, yet can never weary
The hand of Time, but must at last give o're;
An Anvil half so beaten wou'd decay.
Our Ships are all grown Old, some sunk with Age,
And rooting grow into the lofty banks
Of Tenedos—All yet we have receiv'd
Has been but blows for blows, a Troilus
For brave Patroclus—Grant me leave to teach you,
The way of Stratagems you must begin,
And give the World a thankful Precedent
To cut all tedious Wars in sunder, and dry up
Prodigious Rivers of dear Blood, that may
Ensue—Thus 'tis—I have, by my Invention,
Thought of a mighty Engin to be fram'd,
Most like a Horse, whose wide and spacious Womb
May safely lodge a thousand Men at Arms
Inclos'd, not by the wisest, jealous Eye
To be perceiv'd—Send straight to Priam then
With offers of an everlasting Peace,
And that we'l hence return, contented with
No other Article, than Love.—This Horse,
As a rich Statue, we will then adorn,
And send it to be fix'd i'th' midst of Troy,
Or in the Temple of the Goddess Pallas,
As an Amends for the so fatal Injury
Done on her ravish'd Image the Palladium,
And a perpetual Monument of Peace
Between both sides; whence, in the dead of Night,
The bold advent'rous Champions lock'd within,
May issue forth, and let us into Troy.

Omn.
We all adore this great Advice.

A charge sounded, with shouts within.
Exit Diomedes.
Aga.
Heark, there's a Charge already sounded.

Reenter Achilles and Myrmidons.
Ach.
Awake, awake from sleepy, tardy Counsells,
And er'e you can propose to talk in State,
Let's first send Hector to his Den below,
This waking Dragon that so guards the City.

Reenter Diomedes in hast.
Dio.
Hector's arriv'd. and like a roaring Lion
Scatters whole herds of Grecians where a' comes,
And dreadful Slaughter raigns about his Sword.
I saw him seize upon the dead dragg'd Body
Of Troilus, and like a sudden Storm,
Fell on the Executioners pale heads,
And drove 'em all to covert, giving the mangl'd Coarse
Safe guarded, to the Custody of Women,
That mourn'd as if they'd wake him with their Cries,
And with their tears
Did wash away the Dirt that clos'd his Eyes.

Aga.
Now brave Achilles, and now dear Ulysses,
Disperse all inheroick thoughts of Anger,
And fight not now less bravely for your Country—
Let me behold you Friends before you part.

Ach.
See, my big heart does bend that scorns all malice.—
Thus I embrace, and beg you'd pardon me—
My Bosome, naturally rough, contains
(Embrace)
Such Fire as in the Flinty Quarry lies,
One sudden Spark it gives, and then it dies.

Ulyss.
It is a Gem I shall esteem for ever.

Aga.
This is a happy Omen—I'le to Horse,
Whilst you repair each to his gallant Charge.
Exit Agamemnon. Guards stay.

Ach.
Come Diomedes, thou shalt follow me—
Ulysses, Menelaus, and you Ajax,
Stay near this place, and guard the Gen'rals Tent.
Thou great Alcides by my Mother known,
By thy twelve Labours now protect thy Son—
Come near my Myrmidons, your Rage display,
Brush like the Winds, and sweep your Masters way;
Two hundred of your Brothers loss regain,
By the great Hector in one Battel slain,
Fond Troilus, this is a short reprieve;
I'le fetch thee back, wert thou again alive,
And though the Furies fort he Trojans fight,
All save not Hector from thy fate this Night.

Exeunt Achilles, Diomedes, and Myrmidons.
Men.
Brave Soul! Whilst he's thus double arm'd,
With Hector's hate, Patroclus love inspir'd,
He will do wonders past the reach of Fame.

Ulyss.
Wo be to us, or to the Trojans,
If Hector, and Achilles chance to meet;
Like two huge clashing Tempests in the Heavn's,
They'l break,
And fall in Thunder on each others head—
These are the Trojan shouts that fill the Sky.

(shouts within.)
Men.
I fear it is a sign of Victory.

Ajax.
Let us advance, and stay not here to dy.

As they are going off enter to them Paris, and Soldiers.
Par.
Trojans rejoyce, the Grecian Courage fails;
Whilst Hector, like a deadly Ocean pours
And bears before him all that are his Foes,
I, like a Stream that from his Torrent runs,
Have all his noble Courage, though not strength—
Ulysses here, and Menelaus!—I'm glad I've met thee;
Cou'd I kill thee, my Fortune were Sublime,
And I wou'd ravish
Thy Helen with the News the second time.

Men.
Paris, protect thy own Life first.

They fight. The Grecians beat off the Trojans. Enter Hector, and Guards, and rescue them.
Hect.
What, Paris here opprest with odds!—Ulysses!
Thou art the only Man next proud Achilles,
That I'de be glad to kill—I thank thee Jupiter—
Remember that thou stol'st the great Palladium—
Have at thee, my fine subtil Mercury,
Nor shalt thou scape from my impartial Vengeance,
Unless th'adst wings, and wert as swift as he.

They fight, the Trojans beat off the Grecians. Enter Achilles and his Myrmidons.
Ach.
There, guard him safe till my return—
[speaking to some within.]
Against the Women shut your Eyes, and Ears,
Be deaf to their loud Cries, and blind to all their Tears.—
Ha! Hector here!—
This is the happiest hour of all my Life,
That shall for ever end our great Debate—
Hold gallant Hector, hold thy Godlike Arm—
Let not the Eagle bait a simple Fly—
Behold, look back, here stands Achilles by.

(Hector returns.)
Hect.
Achilles!—
Did I behold my lov'd Andromache
Surpris'd, and almost murder'd by the hands
Of some foul Ravisher, and She cri'd loudly
To all the Gods for her deliverance,
Her dying Voice cou'd not provoke me more
To come like Lightning to her dear Revenge.
Wert thou, again most dreadfully return'd
From Hell anointed, and hot reaking from
The River Stix, or boiling Acheron,
And stood'st on th'other side; in spight of fear,
I'de swim the Brimstone-Lake to meet thee there.

Ach.
We'are both agreed, and I love thee as well—
O powerful Charms of my revengeful Hate!
Love is not near so great, nor half so sweet.
He that views Heav'n beneath his Mistress brow,
Feels not the Joy that does possess me now.
Hector—
How dreadful to the World art thou and I!
Who er'e yet saw two Rival Suns ith' Sky,
But dreaded some prodigeous change was nigh?
Let the whole World beware this Storm at hand;
Troy on thy Fate, and Greece on mine does stand.

Hect.
Old Dardanus, and Ilus now look down,
And cast your Eyes from Joves Imperial Throne;
Help me, by all your Trojan Kindred slain,
To catch the Life of this detested Man.—
Prepare, for with such speed I'le reach thy Heart,
As a bent Bow sends forth a flying Dart.

Ach.
Invoak'st thou little Deities! No, Jove,
With all the under Gods, and petty Drove,
Must now behold, and sit to judge the Fight,
Whilst fearful Planets sicken at the sight.
No trivial slaughter shall abroad be seen,
Imperial Death calls all his Forces in
To set with horrour forth this dreadful Scene.

Hect.
Achilles yes, how can the Gods but choose
For thy base Rage on mangl'd Troilus,
When thou didst tear his slaughter'd Head away
From the soft Breast of sad Polyxena,
And in a brutish Valour thence did trail
His gallant Limbs ti'd to thy Horses-tail.

Ach.
Know then to burst
Thy heart yet more with Vengeance and with Grief,
His Body's torn again from thy Relief,
And the same hands, when thou art Dead, shall come,
And fetch thee to my dear Patroclus Tomb,
Dragging thee there in sad procession round,
Whilst his pale Ghost with thy Revenge is crown'd.

Hect.
And I'le not be ungrateful:—
For when I've kill'd thee, I'le exalt thee high,
Upon some Pinacle that hits the Sky,
Where, all that fear'd this Grecian Deity,
Shall flock together, and make sport with thee,
Whilst thou dost proudly sit, and curse, in State,
The Gods, thy Friends, the Authors of thy Fate.

Ach.
Hector come on; I can no longer hold—
This thunder, thou hast ramm'd, must break upon thee.
Keep off—First let us try whose Fate it is,
[To his Greeks.]
Alone to Conquer: Say Hector, shal't be so?

Hect.
Agreed. Stand by, and till that bloody Moment,
Stir not a step to interpose.

[To his Trojans.]
They fight and Hector bleeds. They pause.
Ach.
Thou bleed'st, each pretious Drop that I behold
Is more than worth an Armie's Victory,
Richer than all the Trojan blood that stains
Tenedos Isle or bright Scamanders Plains.

Hect.
Sure Vulcan's stroaks upon my Arms I feel,
Harder, than if his Anvil were my Sheild—
Eternal darkness shroud thy envious Light thou Sun,
Withdraw thy Beams from the loath'd Hector's sight,
And let no Eyes be witness of my shame,
To see me blush all blood, my Cheeks all flame.—
Assist me Gods—Is there no way to meet
Thy curst-bound Soul in its inchanted Seat?

They fight again. Hector falls.
Ach.
So falls the Body of some mighty Oak,
By the rough Winds of many a Tempest shook,
Tears up the Earth with a prodigious Sound,
And strikes his boughy Elbows in the Ground.

Hect.
Be quick my Soul, and fly with all the speed
Thou canst, and leave me, as if I ne're had been,
Without the Torture of a dying thought—
The Gods are angry—Boast Achilles, boast
Thou hast slain Hector, and that Troy is lost.

[Dies]
Ach.
Die then, Supporter of thy Countrie's Fame,
And ever after live Achilles name.—
Drag hence his Body to the fatal Tomb,
And, when my poor Patroclus Ghost is pleas'd,
Drag him with Troilus to the Gates of Troy,
And drown their woful Cries with Shouts of Joy;
The news to all your fellow Soldiers bear,
Hector is Dead, the Terrour of the War.

Reenter to him Diomedes.
Diom.
Where is Achilles? that he shuns the way
To glory which still crowns this fatal Day;
Brave Ajax, and Ulysses have done wonders.
The General Agamemnon, twice unhors'd,
Has mounted once again; with his own hand
He strook the Valiant Deiphobus down,
And slew King Priam's hopeful youngest Son;
Æneas at the dreadful sight, retreated,
And the fierce Courage of his Troops grew slack;
Paris yet only does maintain the Fight,
But all will fly before Achilles sight.—
Come Peleus mighty Son—

Ach.
Yes Diomedes—
See, see where lies the Valiant Hector dead.

Diom.
Then happy Greece; for the whole War is done
With this one Blow by great Alcides Son.
Here sits the Glory of uncertain State,
And hapless Valour slain by envious Fate.—
Let it not take Achilles from thy Praise,
To say he was the bravest Man that ever was.

Ach.
Away, till I am glutted with the News,
[To his Soldiers]
That round the Camp ye'ave trail'd his hated Limbs,
And harrow'd or'e the rugged Flints his Bones.

Dio.
Why means the brave Achilles so to do?
Hector wou'd ne're have done the like to you.
Do not on him your fatal Vengeance try,
Who living was so brave an Enemy;
His Death rewards your more than ten years pain.
Stand here, it shall with Glory to all Worlds remain,
That thou Achilles hast brave Hector slain.

Ach.
Talk not of pity in my Breast to him
That has Patroclus kill'd—Obey me streight.

[Soldiers carry off Hector's Body.]
Dio.
If nothing can your cruel Rage oppose,
Think on the woful State of Troilus.
Coming this way, I met the sad Remains
Hal'd by the wild, and dreadful Executioners,
Assisted by thy Slaves, who acted o're thy Vengeance
With as much horrour as thou didst Command,
Whilst the most bright of all the Trojan Dames,
The Virgin-Daughter of Queen Hecuba,
Follow'd the mangl'd Coarse with lamentable Cries,
In a distracted Meen—
Her golden Hair dishevel'd round her wast,
As bright, as if the Sun had her embrac'd,
With an exalted Dagger in her hand,
She threatn'd off the Guards, and made 'em stand;
Thy horrid Myrmidons stood all abash'd,
And her fierce Beauty through their Arms did feel,
That slighted, with it's force, the pointed Steel.
There never was so sad a Sight to move
'Twixt all the force of Cruelty, and Love—
See, what no Tongue has Courage to unfold,
Nor no Eyes, but Achilles, to behold.

The SCENE draws, and discovers Polyxena weeping over the dragg'd Body of Troilus, her Hair and Garments disorder'd, a Dagger in her hand, and the Myrmidons looking on.
Ach.
The sudden dismal Object makes me start;
Something like Ice does melt about my Heart.—
Where am I Diomed? Speak; canst thou say?
Is that dead Troilus, and that Polyxena?
Or is't some Deity that's sent below
With all the Charms of Beauty, and of Woe?
Drest like the Morning Goddess she appears,
Decking her beamy Locks in Dewy Tears.
So the fair Empress of the Night, the Moon,
Mourn'd and wept o're her lov'd Endymion—
Why Villains did you do this horrid Deed?
[To the Myrm.]
Though I had not, you shou'd a' had hearts to bleed.—
Look gentle Goddess, here Achilles bends,
More aw'd, and trembling at thy dread Commands,
Than he that at the great Tribunal stands—
Ha! strike, strike where your Eyes began the smart,
[Offers to Stab her self.]
And turn your pointed dagger to my Heart—
Give me this fatal Instrument of Death—

Polyx.
What, can I in no Place be free from thee,
That haunts me with thy endless Cruelty,
Deni'st me Life, and will not give me leave to die?

Ach.
O Gods! I can no longer bear my Pain—
I am all Flame, and scorch'd through ev'ry Vein;
A thousand Furies in my Breast controll,
And lash with burning Whips my guilty Soul;
Her Eyes shoot through me with a hot Desire,
And her sad Tears pour Oyl into the Fire—
Give me thy Counsel gentle Diomed—
Yet run, and rescue, er'e it be too late,
And save the violated Hector straight;
In thine own Arms convey him to my Tent,
And bath his Limbs with rich Ambrosiack Sent;
Thy melting Cheeks to his pale Bosome lay,
And with thy Tears wash the foul Dirt away—
Fly with a Thought, a Moment is Delay.
Exit Diomedes.
Now all ye Gods assist me from the Skyes,
Draw all your dropping Clouds into my Eyes;
Neptune lend me the Sea to bath in here:
For whole great Rivers will not wash me clear—
Here by thy Side for ever I'le remain
Close, till Iv'e hatch'd thee into Life again.

[Lies down by Troilus.]
Polyx.
O Gods! What i'st I see! Or do I dream?

Ach.
Is there no help, nor cann't I follow him?
Why was I made Immortal thou great Jove,
If I am less than any God above?
That for the thousand Mortals I have slain
Cannot obtain the pow'r to make one Man—
Look injur'd Beauty, cast your Eyes on me,
If you the Man through so much Guilt can see;
Beneath thy dear wrong'd Brothers Ghost he lies,
For ever fix'd till you shall bid him rise.

Polyx.
Rise then and go—I pity thy remorse;
I have no strength to rail, nor power to curse,
And freely do forgive you from my heart,
But only beg that we may never part.
[Meaning the Body.]
And that you'd suffer welcome Death to come,
And lay us both together in one Tomb.

Ach.
May I be blest, and now believe my Sense!
O Sacred Joy! O heav'nly Excellence!
[Rises from the Body.]
Come Pluto from thy dark and dreadful Mansion,
For I deserve not in this place to dwell—
Take me, and sink me to the Depth of Hell—
Achilles sits down in a passion, and holds out his Arms and Legs to the Myrmidons.
Come Myrmidons—
Come all of you, and do as I command—
Quick, quickly bind me, bind each hated Hand,
And tie these Legs to fiery Horses Tails—
Make hast, you murd'ring Dogs, you Slaves, you Snails.
Let her in a Triumphant Chariot ride;
Drag me, as I did Troilus, by her side,
From whence she may behold the crimson'd Road,
And ev'ry Stone dy'd with Achilles Blood.

Polyx.
What means this Madness, now it is too late.

Ach.
Then I will live to be reveng'd on Fate.
[Ach. rises.]
Rise Goddess from this horrid Spectacle—
Pity a Love whose pains no tongue can tell.

[Polyx. rises.]
Polyx.
Then wretched art thou more than I can wish,
And I am surely curst in hearing this—
Love thee! The Gods defend me with their Care!
Thy Soul is the Epitome of War;
The raging Sea disturb'd with furious Wind,
Is not so ruff, as thy tempestuous mind;
I wou'd as soon embrace, within these Arms,
The baited Panther, or the hunted Lion.

Ach.
The Sea by Tempests made so dreadful, wild;
Yet when the Sun appears, grows calm, and mild;
Do thou serenely look, and kindly smile,
'Twill teach me how my roughness to beguile.
Like the curl'd Lion, with thy Beauty charm'd,
I'le softly lay me down, and kiss thy Feet,
And never stir from thy dear pretious sight,
But follow thee all Day, and watch by thee all Night;
There's far more dread in cruel Beauty lies,
And all my Strength is weaker than thy Eyes.

Polyx.
Is't possible that Love can thee control,
When Pity never yet cou'd reach thy Soul?
When I beneath thy Feet with sorrow lay,
A Dragon wou'd as soon have heard me pray.

Ach.
O save these heav'nly falling Tears—
Richer than th'Essence of an April Show'r,
Whose each rare Pearl creates a gawdy Flow'r.
Less pretious Drops than these the Sun has shed,
Which on obdurate Rocks have Diamonds bred:
But I, inhumane, worse than Tygers bent,
Heard all thy Prayers, and yet cou'd not relent;
Threw off thy Tears, which slid from my hard Heart,
As Drops from unrelenting Marble, loath to part.

Polyx.
Speak, speak no more—Behold these gaping wounds.

Ach.
Remove the dreadful Cause of all her Woe,
[To the Myr.]
Deck him with all that Sweets, or Hands can do,
Buckle a rich, and sable Armour on,
Then, in a Hearse, convey him to the Town,
Mourn in sad Sighs, and weep you all the way,
Till you have left him in his Mother's Arms.
Tell her, that henceforth just Achilles swears,
He'le ne're more stain his Sword with Blood of hers,
But make the Grecians quit their Siege with speed,
If she'l reward him with Polyxena.

[They carry off the Body.]
Reenter Ulysses, and Menelaus, Soldiers, with Paris Prisoner.
Ulyss.
Why stands the brave Achilles here so long?
Paris is taken, and Hector thou hast slain.

Men.
Their Soldiers are with Slaughter all cut off,
And few are left at home to guard the Town.

Ulyss.
Hast, to their sad forsaken Walls repair,
And Greece to Day shall end this tedious War.

Ach.
I thank thee Love, that thou hast shew'd the way,
How I may now oblige Polyxena.
Paris, thy Sister gives thee Liberty.

[Unbinds Paris.]
Ulyss.
What dares Achilles set my Pris'ner free?

Ach.
Ulysses, dare! That Breath shou'd be thy last,
By Hector's Soul, that livest to question me;
But Love has charm'd all Rage within my Breast—
O that I cou'd call Troilus, and Hector back
So soon, I'de give a thousand lives with Joy.

Par.
What wond'rous happy change is this!

Ach.
Know, Menelaus,
That I alone have gorg'd thy greedy Vengeance,
With blood of all the Trojan Sons, but this:
Nay have done more than the whole War beside,
Enough to satisfie the angry Gods.
Let Peace be offer'd then before to Morrow,
Or I'le no more against the Trojans fight—
If you refuse, then leave me to my Choice;
This Arm shall soon rejoyce their drooping Hearts
And turn the Scale; which with my strength I poys'd.—
Divine Polyxena
I'le send a Guard to wait you to the Town.—
Will you kind Paris, be my Advocate?

Par.
Why shou'd the great and brave Achilles doubt it?
No longer than to Morrow you'l expect,
When you, and the poor Trojans you have sav'd,
Shall happy be.

Ach.
Then Troy look up above the envious Fates,
Achilles now, and Beauty guards thy Gates,
Whilst Love upon thy batter'd Walls does stand,
And shoots swift Darts from his Immortal Hand.

Exeunt Ach. Paris, Polyxena, and Myrm.
Men.
O horrid Traytor!

Ulyss.
I am the Traytor—Kill me, torture me
That first deceiv'd you, when I brought this Man,
This furious, fickle, and tempestuous Devil,
To be a Plague to our Designs and Hopes.

Reenter to them Agam. Ajax, Diom. with Guards.
Aga.
I met Achilles, as I came this way,
Heedless, and in his Hand Polyxena.

Ulyss.
Paris, a Pris'ner taken in the Fight,
'A has releas'd, and cowardly bewitch'd
With Beauties Charms, has vow'd to fight for Greece
No more, and if you w'on't to Peace incline,
He'le run from us, and with the Trojans join.

Aga.
Hast, sound a quick Retreat through all the Army;
Let ev'ry Prince draw up his Men together;
Then instantly surprise, as in a Ring,
His Myrmidons, and kill 'em ev'ry one.

Ulyss.
Hold Agamemnon—Take this last Advice,
And if it prove not to your Hopes, successful,
Then all your Rage light on Ulysses Head—
Achilles knows not yet of our Design
Of the prodigious Engin of the Horse;
Then let's go in, and call him straight to Council;
Tell him we gladly shall embrace the Peace,
That we'l remove the Camp to Tenedos,
And leave this Statue to be plac'd in Ilium,
As a perpetual Pledge of Faith between us;
So, whilst your self, and others grace his Wedding,
You Ajax, Diomed, and Menelaus,
With some selected Troops close lock'd within,
Shall hurry forth, aided with Midnight Silence,
And so surprise both Trojans and Achilles.

Omnes.
There spoke the God, the Oracle of Greece.

Ajax.
In, in and prosecute this great Device.

Aga.
Quick, let's embrace the Counsel of the wise.

Exeunt Omnes.