 | The destruction of Troy |  |
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ACTUS Quintus
SCENA Prima.
SCENE opens to a Temple, and discovers Andromache kneeling before Hector's Tomb, his Armour and Sword upon it. Paris enters to her.Paris.
What means the sad Andromache to mourn
With endless Tears upon her Husbands Urn,
As if she'd challenge Heav'n, that lent no Ears?—
Look up, behold the Gods have heard thy Prayers.
And.
What art? I hear the Voice of blessed Tydings,
But my dull Eyes, all swoln and drown'd in Tears,
Forbid that I shou'd see the happy Man
That brings such Comfort to Andromache.
Par.
Peace spreads her Wings o're all the Gates of Troy,
Through ev'ry Street is heard the Sound of Joy,
And bury'd Ilium now again appears;
Rise like a Phœnix from thy Husband's Hearse.
The Grecians have remov'd their Ten Years Siege;
The widen'd Gates extend their longing Arms
To let in proud Achilles, who this hour
Is to be marri'd to Polyxena.
And.
Now Pity hold thy Tongue, or stop my Ears,
If this be all the Comfort it declares—
Blame not Andromache, though still she grieves,
Whilst Hector's dead, and base Achilles lives.
Par.
Rise best of Women then, and swiftly move,
Wing'd with the Charms of just Revenge and Love—
Give me thy hand—Thus o're his Sacred Tomb,
His Spirit ecchoing from it's Marble Room,
Swear, that the Gods may hear us ev'ry Word,
By Hector's Ghost, his Gantlet, and his Sword.
And.
What shall I swear?
Par.
Revenge, Revenge for thy dear Husband's Death,
Swift on the Head of haughty, proud Achilles,
Anticipate his watchful Stars, that guard
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From the fond Breast of Jove, and execute
So sudden, 'twill amaze the Rival God
To see us favour'd, and so doted on
By his belov'd, and courted Goddess.
And.
See, see with eager hast, and longing Hopes,
As er'e I wish'd to see the happy Fruit
Of a hard Birth I groan'd with—Thus I swear
By all these dear Remains, with Tears of Joy,
And Sorrow mingled in a Show'r together.
Par.
And I by all these hallow'd Bones,
And buri'd Valour here—So, 'tis enough;
Now give thy Eyes some respite from their just
And tributaty Tears, to lead thee forth,
Where thou may'st glut thy longing Sight, and reap
Far greater and more pleasing Sacrifices
To heap upon his Tomb, where for these Trophies,
The Armour forg'd by Vulcan shall be laid,
And on his Spear Achilles dreadful Head.
And.
O tell me then, how I Revenge may have;
[Come forward—upon the Stage]
Nothing but that cou'd force me from his Grave;
Instruct me by what Mischief we may now
Send this Immortal to his Seat below.
Par.
Polyxena by Priamu's Command,
And Hecuba's, is forc'd to give her Hand,
To be the Sacrifice for all our Lives,
Achilles woful Bride in Pallas Temple;
Like poor Andromeda, to be there devour'd
By this Land Monster;—
But I, like Theseus flying from the Gods,
Will rescue her, and in his greedy Hand;
Before the Priest has said his binding Pray'r,
This happy Arm, fledg'd with a venom'd Dart,
Shall send a Poyson to his Mortal Place,
And snatch her from his eager wish'd Embrace—
These Shouts proclaim the Grecian Princes nigh,
To meet the King, and grace Achilles Wedding.
[Shouts within.]
Retire, and with thy best Persuasions
Divert the Mind of poor Polyxena.
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Revenge, and Hector's Ghost shall be my Guide.
Exit Andromache.
Enter to Paris, Agam. and Ulysses at one door, and Priamus and Guards at another.
Aga.
The Heav'ns preserve the Mighty Phrygian King,
And Troy's Preserver, favour'd by the Gods;
Thus Agamemnon, and the Grecian Princes,
Embrace the Union by Achilles made,
Accept that Love has been so long exil'd;
Brave Breasts are subject still to gallant Enmity,
That laid aside, contain the noblest Friendship.
Pri.
How gay, and beautiful does Peace appear,
Sprung from the aged grisly Bed of War.
This lovely offspring of a Ten Years Siege,
Has made us all enamour'd of her Charms.
The Joy had been too great without allay,
Had Hector liv'd t'have seen this happy day.
Aga.
By Hector's Death you but exchange a Son,
Achilles now his Virtues, and his Place does own.
Ulyss.
And more than that, we come not empty handed,
But bring a Gift, a Sacrifice of Peace,
That Jupiter himself wou'd gladly own,
A noble Statue from Original,
Divinely consecrate to your great Goddess
Pallas, whom we most humbly now implore
To take this Godlike Image to her self,
And ever whilst she looks on that, forget
The Crime done by Ulysses and the Grecians,
In stealing her Divine Palladium,
And so from hence to everlasting Ages,
It shall be call'd the great Palladian Horse.
Pri.
What Miracle is this of which you tell!
Ulyss.
This glorious Body's of so vast a Bigness,
That the most wide, and lofty of your Gates
Too little is to let in—Give then Command
That straight it may be brought into the Town,
And I'le make known the Wonder of the World,
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Pri.
Quickly, with all the Joyful Speed that can,
Let a vast Gap be made in ev'ry Wall,
And let the Priests, and all that are religious,
In Triumph, and with Songs of Gratitude,
Conduct this Guardian of our City in.
Ulyss.
Know, Noble Trojans, that when first we ravish'd
Your dread Palladium, with such prodigious Joy
To Greece, and Terrour to the Hearts of Troy,
I wish Ulysses had that Night been slain,
Or lost these Eyes that guided him, or left
These most prophane and Sacrilegious Arms
Mangled, and cut from my unhappy Body,
That first laid impious Hands upon her Godhead,
Which brought so great a Plague amongst our Army:
For worse than what you dreaded fell on us;
You only fear'd, what we have felt with horrour;
Which still our Policy has kept conceal'd,
Till Calchas, by Divinity inspir'd,
And by the Mercy of the Goddess, did invent
This Horse, by skilful Epeus fram'd, to be
An endless Sacrifice, and Refuge for us;
Which was no sooner done, but her pleas'd Vengeance staid.—
The Reason why it's Vastness was design'd,
Was, if we had been forc'd to quit the Siege,
And leave so great a Blessing to our Foes behind,
It should be held a thing impossible
To be convey'd into your City.
SCENE opens, and discovers Cassandra in a distracted posture, with her Hair loose, running and catching hold of several Trojans that pass hastily to and fro the Streets, bringing in the Horse.
Cass.
Hold Trojans, hold, you wilful wretched Men;
Are you all mad? Or have you been so long
Us'd and condemn'd to constant Misery,
That y' are grown senseless and like the Salamander
Live best in hottest Fires?—O stay, O hold
Your dreadful Hands that pull a Vengeance on
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And let me roar into your Adders Ears,
The damn'd in Hell are not so wretched as
You are—Ah me! why all this hast ingrateful Trojans?
Must these magnifick Walls be trampl'd on,
That have defended you, your Wives and Children,
So long, to let in this detested Pageant!
O ominous Signs of your severe Destruction!—
Stay, hear me once, before y' are quite undon:
Achilles with a Thousand Myrmidons
Is not so dreadful as this fatal Horse—
[Shouts.]
D'y' shout ye dull infatuated Monsters!
This treach'rous Joy betrays your Destiny:
For your own Voyces ring your Funeral Knells,
And your vile hands have batter'd down these Walls,
Whose ruinous, and revengful Heaps shall bury you.
Par.
Cassandra, Sir, is broke amongst the Throng,
And now again infected with her Madness,
And fill'd with some deceitful Prophesie,
Rails in the Streets with Curses in her Mouth.
The fearful Trojans hearken in a maze,
Forsake their Stations, and with wonder gaze.
Pri.
Let her alone, she's wretched only to her self,
Born under such a Curse, she still does grieve,
That none that hears her ever can believe.
The great Horse is discover'd.
Cass.
It comes, it comes, the Fatal How'rs at hand,
This Monumental Pride shall sink thy Land,
And thy vast Towers, swell'd with prodigious Height,
Shall groan, and fall under its mighty Weight—
Where shall Cassandra shew her Steps the way
To hide her from the Horrour of this Day?—
Come all you Hills, your Weight upon me lay;
Yet, yet more Mountains, yet more Earth I lack—
Atlas come throw the World upon my back,
And hide me, where I may for ever dwell
Beyond the uttermost Abyss of Hell,
Where I may see no Trojan Miseries,
Nor Fiends torment me with their roaring Cries.
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See, seethe wond'rous Horse appears so high,
As if it nodded from the lofty Sky,
And did descend to lick the Dew on Mountains.
Cassandra comes forward upon the Stage.
Cass.
Ah Priamus, what has thy folly done,
Unworthy to be call'd Dardanus Son?—
Why has thy Mortal Hands prophan'd with Guilt
These Walls, by Neptune and Apollo built;
Troy's Sacred Beauty, and its Strength remov'd,
By Phœbus, and the Ocean so belov'd?—
Behold this Horse, 'tis not the Grecians God,
But the vast Trees, that on Mount Ida stood,
Has brought forth this prodigious Birth of Wood.
His Belly is a Camp that holds an Army,
And those hard monstrous Rows of dreadful Teeth
Are Trenches that it is defended with;
Those wide and gaping Nostrils Air receive,
And draw in breath, whereby a Thousand live;
This Land-Ship in it's monstrous Deck infolds
More than your Fleet upon the Ocean holds.
You are deceiv'd to think you have no Foes;
They are not all remov'd to Tenedos:
For the best part of all the Grecian Force
Is muster'd in the Belly of this Horse.
Ulyss.
O hateful Blasphemy against the Gods!
She is possest by some infernal Spirit,
That makes this horrid Sound come from her Mouth.—
'Tis your ill Fate that threatens you, O Trojans,
Who envious of your Happiness
Come cover'd o're with her Religious Madness,
To ruin you if you believe her.
Pri.
Bear it, with all your Sacred Reverence,
To Pallas Temple, and there let it stand,
Where once the great Palladium stood.
Cass.
O dreadful Sound! O woful King of Troy,
And Traitor to thy own Felicity!—
Must her Walls down? her golden Roofs lie flat,
To be a Stable for this filthy Horse!
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O save the Cries of Infants, that this Night
Will all be torn from their dear Mothers Breasts,
And their young Heads be dash'd against the Walls,
And ravish'd Virgins run about the Streets
With fearful Shreiks, to wake the groaning Dead
To their Relief.
Pri.
Take her away; convey her to her Cloister,
There let her hollow to the Marble Walls,
Till she's convinc'd, and come t'her self again.
Cass.
O hear me first, my Knees bent to the Ground,
My Eyes with Tears, and Showers of Sorrow drown'd—
Stay your Commands, benum'd, and wretched King,
Are y' all turn'd Statues with Ulysses Tale?
The Adamantine Rocks, or frigid Zone,
Are more relenting, and more soft than you.—
I was an evil Spirit, and deceiv'd you,
When I foretold the Fate of Troilus,
And gallant Hector's Death, which the rash Men
Had both avoided, had they heard my Counsel.
Pri.
Guards instantly remove her.
Cass.
O mind what I shall tell; This Hill of Wood,
This Mountain of prodigious Timber here
Does groan to be deliver'd of a Monster
More fierce then Hydra, with a thousand Heads
Arm'd with impenetrable Steel—mind you—
It's ev'ry motion makes a jarring Sound,
As if the Gods, to punish 'em, had rais'd
A civil War within it's spatious Womb.—
I saw old Laacoon, with Zeal inspir'd,
Run from the steep and high Watch Tower of Troy,
(A Launce grasp'd in his steddy hand) from whence
He saw this dreadful Engin first appear,
And dauntless making to the huge Machine,
Struck with his Spear a mighty Blow thereon,
When straight there issu'd from it's bellowing sides,
A noise like Thunder, when Joves angry Bolts
Are troll'd along the Pavement of the Sky,
Or th'ratling Sound of Phœbus Chariot Wheels,
Driving along the Marble Firmament.
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Now may the Goddess strike this Woman dead
That shew'd her Vengeance on old Laacoon's Head.—
Witness you just revengful Powers on high,
And you brave Trojans, kill me if I lye.
No sooner had he done this horrid Deed,
But Heav'n this Judgment for his fault decreed;
I saw the giddy, and prophane old Priest,
With long wreath'd Serpents twisted round his Body,
And on his Breast, in view of all
The Trojan Princes, and the Grecian Kings,
The fearful Adders left their forked Stings.
Cass.
O it was false, your Eyes were all deceiv'd;
It was a Trick, the Cunning of Ulysses,
To cheat your Sights with such deluding Objects,
Which to my Sense Illusions did appear,
And all the Serpents, Conjurations were.
Pri.
I'll hear no more—Away with her—
And shut her up for ever in her Vault—
[Guards offer to take her away.]
Come Princes, now my Son Achilles wants you,
Longing till you conduct him to the Temple.
Cass.
Hear then, what Heav'n by me foretels you,
The Goddess from this minute hates you all,
Eternal Ruin on your Heads shall fall—
[Raves.]
Heark, heark—The Noise begins—The Tempest rolls,
That swallows up your misbelieving Souls—
Pale fac'd Revenge with tall red Murther meets
With noise of Blood, and Horrour in the Streets—
The Horse has litter'd, see, and from it breaks
A thousand untam'd, mad, and furious Greeks—
There's Diomedes, Ajax too, and more,
Give the Watch-Word—Now all the Grecians roar;
The Thunder's loud, and Pallas Temple shakes,
The Noise, mad sleeping Hecuba awakes;
Half naked, and distract along she reels,
A Tribe of ravish'd Matrons at her heels—
Give me my Children, then aloud She's heard;—
And takes that old rough Grecian by the Beard.—
See, all around shines a bright burning Light,
And Hector's Ghost runs trembling at the sight—
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Beckens his Son to help him from the Flame;
Then good Æneas, through the fiery Track,
Carries his aged Sire upon his back—
Pity the poor young Man—Away, away,
The blazing Tow'rs shall guide thy Steps till day.—
So—Dissolution reigns—Distruction's nigh—
Help us, Cassandra, now in vain they cry—
I see—I hear, but will in spite be dumb—
Burn Ilium, burn—I told you what wou'd come.
Exit Mad.
Pri.
Run, quickly follow her, and watch her Steps—
She is arriv'd to the extremest height
Of wretched Madness.
Enter to them Achilles, Polyxena, Helen, and Andromache attended.
Ach.
Why, beauteous Goddess, dost thou lay aside
The charming Features of a chearful Bride?
Bedew'st the Earth in wast with Pearly Show'rs?
Where Virgins in the way have scatter'd Flow'rs.
Joy in the Face of all the World appears;
But sad Polyxena is still in Tears.—
Welcome brave Gen'ral, by my Joy thou art;
[To Agam.]
Welcome Ulysses, welcome to my Heart—
Where's Diomedes, Ajax, and the rest?
Cou'd they not come to see Achilles blest!
Thou Agamemnon, enviest not the Sight,
To see me lie, and bask in Heav'n to Night—
O how the Pleasure to my Sense is brought,
Beyond the exquisite Device of Thought.
My longing Arms about her I will twine,
Like Woodbine, Jessamin, or the curling Vine;
She, like the Sun, when the kind Spring is nigh,
And I the ravish'd Globe lie melting by;
Still brooding o're the Treasure of my Love,
And laugh at all the envious Gods above.
And.
Polyxena, you are unjust to mourn,
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But mine are bury'd in my Hector's Tomb.
Polyx.
Ah Sister, will you not believe these Eyes?
I swear, I'de rather go a Sacrifice,
And offer up my Blood, this Peace to gain,
Than be the Queen of all this Nuptial Train.—
Yet I must go to keep you all from Ruin.
And.
But canst not save thy Husband's hated Breath.
[Aside.]
Ach.
Come my dear Friends, and let's to Hymen go,
With all the Pomp, and Glory we can shew—
Come beauteous Helen, and Andromache,
And thou most fair, and beauteous of the Three;
Cynthia bedect with Stars, shines not so bright,
As thou shalt gild the lower World to Night—
Let these two Princes take thee by the Hands,
As Jove, and Mars, led Venus o're the Sands,
Or as thy Mother Hecuba was led
By Asian Kings, a Globe upon her Head,
And brought in Triumph to her Nuptial Bed—
Ah! Father Priam, why do we not go?—
Come all you Sylvan Gods, and strew the way,
You Nymphs, and Virgins sing before, and play,
Whilst my Divine Polyxena, and I,
View all around Elysium Tapestry—
Let confin'd Lovers wanton under ground,
We'l tread above, with Nobler Pleasures crown'd—
Tell me the Tales of amorous Gods no more,
We are Immortal, and Divine all o're,
The thousand ways to Pleasure Jove enjoys
Are less than the dear Blessings of these Eyes.
Exeunt, as to the Temple, Achilles led by Andromache and Helen, and Polyxena led by Agam. and Ulysses. Manet Paris Solus.
Par.
'A goes, with Loves great Expectation curst,
And fill'd so full, this moment a' will burst.
Love shall prolong thy Destiny no more,
Whose borrow'd Wings does proudly make thee Soar.—
Help me, ye Gods, and lift me up on high,
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Though thou dost ride the Chariot of the Sun,
Fate shall assist this Hand, to strike thee down,
Rash Phaeton, like whom thou dost aspire,
With thy hot Brain to set the World on Fire.
Paris going off, the Scene draws to the Temple, and discovers Priamus, Agamemnon, Achilles, Ulysses, Polyxena, Helen, and Andromache, Priests, and Attendants. Priamus giving Polyxena to Achilles, Paris behind the Altar.
Pri.
Forgetting, brave Achilles, what we 'ave lost,
And the revengeful Crys of Hector's Ghost,
To please the Gods, and end this fatal Strife,
I give you my lov'd Daughter for a Wife,
In hopes you'l prove a far more happy Son,
And heal the Trojans of the Wrongs y' have done—
Now Hymen, and the Priests, conclude the rest,
And Pallas in the Heavens make you blest.
Paris behind the Altar unseen, flings a Dart, and wounds Achilles. They all come forward upon the Stage. The Temple shuts.
Ach.
Ha! ha! Polyxena—what ails my Heart!
Sure 'twas not Love that gave that deadly smart—
I'me hurt—O Gods! Who can the Pain indure!
O Hercules! I'me struck with Lightning.
Help me—I'm stung—O give me room,
Some Serpent 'tis has bit me by the Heel,
I was Immortal else.—
And.
Thanks Paris, thou the gallant Deed hast done.
[Aside.]
Ulyss.
His Life's betray'd, there's Treason, though unknown—
Princes, let ev'ry man secure his own.
Polyx.
Ah me, how miserable was I born!
Pri.
Bear witness all ye Gods my Innocence!
I'm more astonish'd at the Deed than you.
Ach.
What Coward, Slave, has hurt me in this Part,
That durst not look Achilles in the Face—
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And with thy courteous Arm cut off this Joynt—
Quick, quick—Base, and untimely am I snatch'd.
Ulyss.
Seek out the Traytor.
[Paris comes forward.]
Par.
You need not—Here he stands that did the Deed.
I Paris, in the Face of all the World,
And in the sight of Jove, will Justifie,
That this revengeful, and successful Arm,
Has done it, for the sake of Troilus,
Whom cowardly, and basely he did murder,
Incompass'd with his bloody Myrmidons;
Then him, and Hector, most obscenely dragg'd
About the Walls, in sight of all the Trojans,
That saw the dismal Sight with bleeding Hearts,
And weeping Eyes.
Ach.
Ha, Jove! Must I then fall by him whose Head
But Yesterday I sav'd from Slaughter!
Hear me Alcides, help thy bleeding Son—
In spite of Tortures—All the Pangs of Hell
Shan't hinder me, but like a wounded Lion
I'll rush upon him, tear him with my Fangs
And sprinkle his nauseous Blood about the Air—
Ha! Let me go—D'ye hold me?—Let me go—
What shall Achilles know the cursed Slave,
Whose Hand has kill'd him, and die unreveng'd!
Hear me Ulysses,—Help me Agamemnon—
Where—where are my Myrmidons?—Go fetch 'em—
Hear, hear Achilles—
Par.
Guards all assist me, and secure my Life—
Who ever stirs shall meet Achilles Fate.
Pri.
Ye Gods! What's in this moment to be done.
Ulyss.
Fly thou with all the Wings of faithful speed,
[Aside to two Grecians.]
And bid the Camp at Tenedos remove,
And swiftly lead their Army forth to Troy—
Another run to watchful Synon straight;
Command him to unlock the Horse this Moment—
Tell Diomedes, Ajax, and the rest,
That now's the time to issue forth, and win
The Town—Go, tell 'em what has happen'd,
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[Exeunt 2 Grecians.]
Ach.
Help me—O carry me but to the Traitor—
Shepherd—Come from the Covert of thy Guards,
And if thou dar'st, out face me in the Storm—
O Thetis! pray the Gods to lend me Wings
Instead of Feet, to help thy wounded Son,
That I may fly like the Imperial Bird,
And snatch this Mountain-Pigeon for my Prey—
Am I forsaken?—Gods, will not you hear me then?—
Still dost thou weep, my dear Polyxena!
[To Polyx.]
Art thou not glad, glad that this hated man
Is snatch'd away in view of all his Hopes,
That murder'd Troilus, and kill'd brave Hector,
In spite of all thy Pray'rs, and softer Tears,—
Whose gentle Pow'r might then have staid, and charm'd
Thunder from the revengeful Hand of Jove—
Now, now I feel the weight of all thy Curses,
And heavier Sorrows on me.
Polyx.
I wish this Tongue of mine had then been blasted,
Or that those Curses had light heavier on
This woful Head; I then had been more happy.
Par.
Brave Agamemnon, since the thing is done,
That all the Power of Man can ner'e retrieve,
And Troilus, and Hector are reveng'd,
Paris declares in the behalf of Troy,
That in Achilles all its Foes are slain—
Henceforth we'l call you Friends, and from our Hearts
Embrace the Peace, as was before design'd,
Ulyss.
Trojans, Let us retreat: for we deny
All Friendship with the Murd'rers of Achilles.
Ach.
Thanks kind Ulysses, bravely hast thou said:
Revenge will please my Ghost when I am dead—
Let all the Grecians to my Burial come,
And there repeat their Vows upon my Tomb,
That Troy in Pyramids of Flames shall burn,
Its Gold and Jewels into Ashes turn,
And only spare this Virgin for my sake.
[Meaning Polyx.]
[Alarm, and shouts within.]
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Achilles has no sooner said the word,
But his Revenge is come.
Enter a Trojan.
Troj.
Fly Priamus, to Refuge straight retire,
Your Enemies come arm'd with Sword and Fire.
Thousands of Grecians set the Streets on Flame,
Whil'st we stand all amaz'd from whence they came.
Legions without encompass round the Town;
Sure all the Gods to aid 'em are come down:
For less than in a moment Troy is won.
Pri.
Now we find true Cassandra's Words too late.—
Come sad Remainder of lost Priam's Children,
Let us all burn, and die together.
And.
With greater Joy, than live after my Hector.
Ach.
O stay by me—O save Polyxena.
Exeunt Priam. Polyx. Andr. and Helen.
Paris.
Damn'd Traitors! Yet I am resolv'd
To die no Coward's Death.
Ach.
Hold Agamemnon, and support me firm—
Inspire me with new Strength ye Gods, but till
I die reveng'd—'A falls, the Traitor falls.
Agamemnon, and Ulysses support Achilles who kills Paris.
And thus I triumph in my Death.
Par.
Farwell to Beauty now, and all the World,
Helen, and I have troubl'd it too long—
My Soul moves heavy on wards with the thoughts,
That Menelaus now will grasp thee all—
Take her—O there's the Hell I go to meet with—
Bear witness Heav'n I part not with my Life
With half so much regret.
[Dies.]
SCENE opens, and discovers Troy Burning.
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Look there Achilles, see that gallant Sight;
Will that revive thee? Now in Flames thou seest
Troy burn thy Sacrifice before thou diest,
And each of all thy gallant Myrmidons
Revenge their Masters Death with slaughter of
A thousand murder'd Trojans.
Ach.
When e're I fell, thus 'twas decreed on high,
Thus shou'd be seen, thus Thetis Son shou'd die,
A Kingdoms Ruin to attend my Fall,
And burning Cities light my Funeral.—
Like the Suns Bird, the Phœnix, in her Fire,
In Flames of Gold, and Spices, I'le expire—
Come fellow Soldiers, help me to a Seat,
And lay this cursed Trojan at my Feet.—
They seat Achilles in a Chair with Paris beneath his feet. Achilles looks towards the Town.
Thus, like the King of Slaughter from my Throne,
I'le send my Guard of Fates to scourge the Town,
And thus in State, till my last wand'ring Breath,
Sit, and behold the Pageantry of Death.
[Achilles Dies.]
Aga.
He's gone, and as he always liv'd, a' dies;
The haughtiest, greatest, bravest Man on Earth.
Enter to them Diomedes, Menelaus, Ajax, Captains, and Soldiers. A Retreat Sounded.
Dio.
Sound a Retreat from all your thirst of Blood;
Our Mortal Senses can indure no more—
Brave Agamemnon, and Ulysses safe.
We come to crown you with Eternal Fame—
All Obstacles that stood before our way,
Are either drown'd in Blood, or burnt in Flame.
Men.
What, mourn you o're Achilles Body there!
Ajax.
Then is our Conquest sulli'd with Despair.
Dio.
Had we won all the World, and this to see,
It were a fatal Check to Victory.
Aga.
What are become of all the Trojan Princes?—
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Slain by that gallant Man, who first by him,
Was in Minerva's Temple basely wounded.
Dio.
The lamentable King and Queen,
With the poor Remnant of their Friends, and Daughters,
Were all surpris'd by us, where they had fled
For Refuge to the Temple—With this hand
I Sacrific'd the bleeding Priamus,
Just bending on his knees before the Altar;
But all the Women, we took pity on,
And have secur'd them free from any harm,
Only Andromache escap'd our Care,
And to the Temple she again return'd,
Where, with her Husband's Ashes she was burnd.
Aga.
Now Brother Menelaus,
You with your beauteous Helen may repair,
And homewards bring the Price of all the War.
Ulyss.
Thus we see ended all these fatal Broils,
The Plague of War, and Ten Years constant Toils—
First lend each noble Arm to lift in State,
This gallant Corps, and mourn Achilles Fate;
Then, like a Soldier, bear him to the Fleet,
Losing no time to court inconstant Gales,
But with glad Shouts fill all our empty Sails,
Turning our Joyful Eyes upon the Plain,
Where the sad Troy in Ashes does remain.
Exeunt Omnes.
FINIS.
| The destruction of Troy | |