 | Troilus And Cressida, Or, Truth Found too Late |  |
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ACT V.
SCENE I.
Hector, Trojans, Andromache.Hect.
The blew mists rise from off the nether grounds,
And the Sun mounts apace: to arms, to arms:
I am resolv'd to put to th' utmost proof
The fate of Troy this day.
Andro.
aside.
Oh, wretched woman, oh!
Hect.
Methought I heard you sigh, Andromache!
Andro.
Did you my Lord?
Hect.
Did you my Lord? you answer indirectly,
Just when I sayd that I wou'd put our fate
Upon th'extreamest proof, you fetch'd a groan;
And, as you check'd your self, for what you did
You stifl'd it, and stopt. Come you are sad.
Andro.
The Gods forbid.
Hect.
What should the Gods forbid?
Andro.
That I shou'd give you cause of just offence.
Hect.
You say well: but you look not cheerfully.
I mean this day to waste the stock of war,
And lay it prodigally out in blows:
Come gird my sword, and smile upon me, love;
Like victory come flying to my arms;
And give me earnest of desir'd successe.
Andro.
The Gods protect you; and restore you to me.
Hect.
What, grown a Coward! thou wert us'd, Andromache,
To give my courage, courage: thou woudst cry
Go Hector; day grow's old, and part of Fame
Is ravish'd from thee, by thy sloathfull stay.
Andro.
aside.
What shall I do, to seem the same I was!
Come let me gird thy fortune to thy side:
And conquest sit as close, and sure as this.
[She goes to gird his Sword; and it falls.]
Now mercy, Heaven! the Gods avert this omen!
Hect.
A foolish omen! take it up again;
And mend thy errour.
Andro.
I cannot: for my hand obeys me not.
But as in slumbers, when we sain wou'd run
From our imagin'd fears, our idle feet
Grow to the ground, our struggling voice dyes inward,
So now, when wou'd force my self to cheat you
My saltring tongue can give no glad presage;
Alas, I am no more Andromache.
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Why then thy former Soul is flown to me:
For I, me thinks, am lifted into ayr:
As if my mind, mastring my mortal part
Wou'd bear my exalted body to the Gods.
Last night I dreamt Jove sate on Ida's top
And beckning with his hand divine from far,
He pointed to a quire of Demi-gods,
Bacchus, and Hercules, and all the rest
Who free from humane toils had gain'd the pitch
Of blest eternity: lo there he sayd;
Lo there's a place for Hector.
Andro.
Be to thy Enemies this boding dream!
Hect.
Why it portends me honour and renoun.
Andro.
Such honour, as the Brave gain after death.
For I have dreamt all night of horrid slaughters,
Of trampling horses, and of Charriot wheels
Wading in blood up to their Axeltrees.
Of fiery Demons gliding down the Skyes,
And Ilium brighten'd with a midnight blaze;
O therefore, if thou lov'st me, go not forth.
Hect.
Go to thy bed again; and there dream better.
Ho bid my Trumpet Sound.
Andro.
No notes of sally for the Heaven's sweet sake.
Tis not for nothing when my Spirits droop:
This is a day when thy ill Starrs are strong
When they have driv'n thy helpless genius down
The steep of Heaven to some obscure retreat.
Hect.
No more; ev'n as thou lov st my fame no more:
My honour stands ingag'd to meet Achilles:
What will the Grecians think; or what will he,
Or what will Troy; or what wilt thou thy self
When once this ague fit of fear is ore;
If I should lose my honour for a dream.
Andro.
Your Enemies too well your courage know,
And Heaven abhorrs the forsiet of rash vows
Like spotted livers in a Sacrifice.
I cannot; O I dare not let you go:
For when you leave me, my presaging minde
Says, I shall never, never see you more.
Hect.
Thou excellently good, but oh too soft,
Let me not scape the danger of this day,
But I have struggling in my manly Soul
To see those modest tears, asham'd to fall,
And witness any part of woman in thee!
And now I fear, lest thou should'st think it fear,
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And stay inglorious in thy arms at home.
Andro.
Oh cou'd I have that thought I shou'd not love thee;
Thy Soul is proof to all things but to kindness.
And therefore t'was that I forbore to tell thee
How mad Cassandra, full of prophecy
Ran round the streets, and like a Bacchanal
Cry'd hold him Priam, 'tis an ominous day,
Let him not go; for Hector is no more.
Hect.
Our life is short but to extend that span
To vast Eternity is virtues work.
Therefore to thee, aad not to fear of fate
Which once must come to all, give I this day
But see thou move no more the like request:
For rest assur'd that to regain this hour
To morrow will I tempt a double danger:
Mean time, let Destiny attend thy leisure.
I reckon this one day a blank of of life.
Enter Troilus.
Troil.
Where are you Brother? now in honour's name,
What do you mean to be thus long nnarm'd?
Th' imbattel'd Souldiers throug about the gates:
The Matrons to the turrets tops ascend
Holding their helplesse children in their arms,
To make you early known to their young eyes,
And Hector is the universal shout.
Hect.
Bid all unarm, I will not fight to day.
Troil.
Employ some coward to bear back this news,
And let the children hoot him for his pains;
By all the gods and by my just revenge,
This Sun shall shine the last for them or us:
These noisy streets or yonder ecchoing plains
Shall be to morrow silent as the grave.
Andro.
O Brother do not urge a brothers fate,
But let this rack of heav'n and earth rowl o're,
And when the storm is past put out to sea.
Troil.
Oh now I know from whence his change proceeds,
Some frantick Augur has observ'd the skyes;
Some victim wants a heart, or crow flys wrong;
By heav'n 'twas never well since sawcy Priests
Grew to be Masters of the listning herd;
And into Miters cleft the Regal Crown.
Then as the Earth were scanty for their pow'r,
They drew the pomp of Heav'n to wait on them;
Shall I go publish Hector dares not fight
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What cou'd the God see in a brain-sick Priest
That he should sooner talk to him then me?
Hect.
You know my name's not liable to fear.
Troil.
Yes, to the worst of fear, to superstition.
But whether that or fondnesse of a wife,
(The more unpardonable ill) has seiz'd you,
Know this, the Grecians think you fear Achilles,
And that Polixena has beg'd your life.
Hect.
How! that my life is beg'd, and by my sister?
Troil.
Ulysses so inform'd me at our parting,
With a malicious and disdainfull smile:
'Tis true, he said not in broad words you fear'd,
But in well-manner'd terms 'twas so agreed
Achilles shou'd avoid to meet with Hector.
Hect.
He thinks my Sisters treason, my petition,
That largely vaunting in my heat of bloud
More then I cou'd, it seems, or durst perform,
I sought evasion.
Troil.
And in private pray'd.
Hect.
O yes, Polixena, to beg my life.
Andro.
He cannot think so, do not urge him thus.
Hect.
Not urge me! then thou think'st I need his urging
By all the Gods shou'd Jove himself descend,
And tell me Hector thou deserv'st not life
But take it as a boon; I wou'd not live.
But that a Mortal man, and he of all men
Shou'd think my life were in his power to give,
I will not rest, till prostrate on the ground
I make him Athiest-like, implore his breath
Of me and not of Heaven.
Troil.
Then you'l refuse no more to fight.
Hect.
Refuse! I'le not be hinder'd, Brother.
I'le through and through 'em, ev'n their hindmost ranks.
Till I have found that large siz'd boasting fool
Who dare presume my life is in his gift.
Andro.
Farewell, farewell: 'tis vain to strive with fate:
Cassandra's raging God inspires my breast,
With truths that must be told and not believ'd.
Look how he dyes! look how his eye turns pale!
Look how his blood bursts out at many vents!
Hark how Troy roars, how Hecuba crys out
And widow'd I fill all the streets with screams!
Behold distraction, frenzy and amazement,
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And all cry Hector; Hectors dead! Oh Hector!
[Exit Andromache.
Hect.
What sport will be when we return at Evening,
To laugh her out of count'nance for her dreams!
Troil.
I have not quench'd my eyes with dewy sleep this Night;
But fiery fumes mount upward to my brains,
And when I breathe, methinks my nostrills hiss!
I shall turn Basilisk! and with my sight
Do my hands work, on Diomede this day.
Hect.
To Arms, to Arms, the vantguards are ingag'd:
Let us not leave one Man to guard the Walls,
Both Old and young, the coward and the brave,
Be Summond all, our utmost fate to try;
And as one body move, whose Soul am I.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
The Camp.Alarm within. Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Menelaus, Souldiers.
Agam.
Thus far the promise of the day is fair:
Æneas rather loses ground than gains,
I saw him overlabour'd, taking breath;
And leaning on his spear, behold our Trenches
Like a fierce Lyon looking up to toyls,
Which yet he durst not leap.
Ulyss.
And therefore distant death does all the work:
The flights of whistling darts make brown the sky,
Whose clashing points strike fire, and guild the dusk:
Those that reach home, from neither host are vain,
So thick the prease; so lusty are their arms,
That death seem'd never sent with better will!
Nor was with less concernment entertain'd.
Enter Nestor.
Agam.
Now Nestor, what's the news?
Nestor.
I have descry'd,
A clow'd of dust that mounts in pillars upwards;
Expanding as it travells to our Camp,
And from the midst I heard a bursting showt,
That rent the Heavens! as if all Troy were swarm'd,
And on the wing this way.
Menel.
Let 'em come, let 'em come.
Agam.
Where's the great Achilles!]
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Think not on Achilles:
Till Hector drag him from his Tent to fight,
(Which sure he will, for I have laid the train.)
Nest.
But young Patroclus leads his Myrmydons;
And in their front, ev'n in the face of Hector,
Resolves to dare the Trojans.
Agam.
Haste Ulysses, bid Ajax issue forth, and second him.
Ulyss.
Oh Noble General, let it not be so.
Oppose not rage, while rage is in its force;
But give it way awhile; and let it waste:
The rising deluge is not stopt with dams,
Those it orebears, and drowns the hopes of harvest.
But wisely manag'd its divided strength
Is sluc'd in channels, and securely drain'd:
First, let small parties dally with their fury.
But when their force is spent and unsupply'd
The residue with mounds may be restrain'd,
And dry-shod, we may pals the naked ford.
Enter Thersites.
Thers.
Ho, ho, ho!
Menel.
Why dost thou laugh, unseasonable fool!
Thers.
Why thou fool in season, cannot a man laugh, but thou thinkst
he makes horns at thee! Thou Prince of the Herd, what hast thou to
do with laughing! Tis the prerogative of man to laugh! Thou Risibility
without Reason: thou subject of laughter; Thou fool Royall:
Ulyss.
But tell us the occasion of thy mirth?
Thers.
Now a man asks me, I care not if I answer to my own kinde:
why the Enemies are broken into our Trenches: Fools like Menelaus
fall by thousands; yet not a humane Soul departs on either side. Troilus
and Ajax have almost beaten one anothers heads off; but are both
immortal for want of brains. Patroclus has kill'd Sarpedon; and Hector
Patroclus: So there's a towardly springing fop gone off: He might
have made a Prince one day: But now he's nipt in the very budd and
promise of a most prodigious Coxcomb.
Agam.
Bear off Patroclus body to Achilles:
Revenge will arm him now, and bring us ayd.
Th' alarm Sounds near; and shouts are driv'n upon us,
As of a crowd confus'd in their retreat.
Ulyss.
Open your Ranks, and makethese mad men way:
Then close again, to charge upon their backs:
And quite consume the Reliques of the warr.
[Exeunt all but Thersites.
Thers.
What shoales of fools one battle sweeps away!
How it purges families of younger Brothers! Highways of Robbers,
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for these brisk Addle-heads! Your Physitian is a pretty fellow; but
his fees make him tedious; he rids not fast enough; the fools grow
upon him, and their horse bodies are poyson proof. Your Pestilence is
a quicker Remedy; but it has not the grace to make distinction; it
huddles up honest men and Rogues together. But your battle has discretion; it picks out all the forward fools. And sowses 'em together
into Immortality.
[Shouts and alarm within.
Plague upon these drums and Trumpets! these sharp sawces of the
War, to get fools an Appetite to fighting! what do I among 'em? I
shall be mistaken for some valiant Asse, and dye a Martyr, in a wrong
Religion!
Here Grecians fly over the stage, pursued by Trojans: One Trojan turns back upon Thersites who is flying too.
Trojan.
Turn slave and fight.
Thers.
turning.
What art thou!
Troj.
A Bastard Son of Priam's.
Thers.
I am a Bastard too: I love Bastards: I am Bastard in body,
Bastard in minde, Bastard in valour; in every thing illegitimate. A
Bear will not fasten upon a Bear; why should one Bastard offend another!
let us part fair, like true Sons of Whores; and have the fear
of our Mothers before our eyes.
Troj.
The Devil take thee Coward.
Exit Trojan
Thers.
Now wou'd I were either Invisible, or invulnerable? these
Gods have a fine time on't; they can see and make mischief, and never
feel it.
A pox clatter you; I am compass'd in! Now wou'd I were that blockhead
Ajax for a minute: some sturdy Trojan will poach me up with a
long pole! and then the Rogues may kill one another upon free cost,
and have no body left to laugh at 'em:
Enter Hector and Troilus driving in the Greeks.
Hect.
to Ther.
Speak what part thou fightst on!
Thers.
I fight not at all: I am for neither side.
Hect.
Thou art a Greek: art thou a match for Hector.
Art thou of blood and honour?
Thers.
No, I am a rascall: a scurvy railing knave; a very filthy
Rogue.
Hect.
I do believe thee; live.
Thers.
God a mercy, that thou wilt believe me: but the Devil
break thy neck for fighting me:
[aside.
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returning.
What prisoner have you there?
Hect.
A gleaning of the war: a Rogue he says.
Troil.
Dispatch him and away.
[going to kill him.
Thers.
Hold, hold: what is't no more but dispatch a man and away!
I am in no such hast: I will not dye for Greece; I hate Greece, and by
my good will wou'd nere have been born there; I was mistaken into
that Country, and betray'd by my parents to be born there. And besides
I have a mortal Enemy amongst the Grecians, one Diomede a damned
villain, and cannot dye with a safe conscience till I have first murther'd
him.
Troil.
Shew me thrt Diomede and thou shalt live.
Thers.
Come along with me and I'le conduct thee to Calchas his
Tent, where I believe he's now making warre with the Priests
daughter.
Hect.
Here we must part, our destinies divide us;
Brother and friend, farewell.
Troil.
When shall we meet?
Hect.
When the Gods please: if not, we once must part.
Look; on you hill their squander'd Troops unite;
Troil.
If I mistake not, 'tis their last Reserve:
The storm's blown ore; and those but after drops.
Hect.
I wish our Men be not too far ingag'd:
For few we are and spent; as having born
The burden of the Day: but hap what can
They shall be charg'd: Achilles must be there;
And him I seek, or death.
Divide our Troops; and take the fresher half.
Troil.
O Brother,
Hect.
No dispute of Ceremony!
These are enow for me; in faith enow:
There bodies shall not flag while I can lead;
Nor wearied limbs confess mortality,
Before those Ants that blacken all yon hill
Are crept into their Earth: Farewell.
Exit Hector.
Troil.
Farewell; come Greek:
Thers.
Now these Rival-rogues will clapperclaw one another, and
I shall have the sport on't.
Exit Troil. with Thersites.
Enter Achilles and Myrmidons.
Achil.
Which way went Hector?
Myrmyd.
Up yon sandy hill:
You may discern 'em by their smoaking track;
A wavering body working with bent hams
Against the rising, spent with painfull march,
And by loose-footing cast on heaps together.
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O thou art gone! thou sweetest, best of friends;
Why did I let thee tempt the shock of war
Ere yet thy tender nerves had strung thy limbs,
And knotted into strength. Yet, though too late,
I will, I will revenge the, my Patroclus!
Nor shall thy Ghost thy Murtherer's long attend,
But thou shalt hear him calling Charon back,
Ere thou art wasted to the farther shore.
Make hast, my Soldiers: give me this days pains.
For my dead friend: strike every hand with mine,
Till Hector breathless, on the ground we lay!
Revenge is honour, the securest way.
Exit with Myrmidons.
[Enter Thersites, Troilus, Trojans.
Thers.
That's Calcha's tent.
Troil.
Then that one spot of Earth contains more falshood
Than all the Sun sees in his race beside.
That I shou'd trust the Daughter of a Priest!
Priesthood, that makes a Merchandise of Heaven!
Priesthood that sells eve'n to their prayr's and blessings!
And forces us to pay for our own cousnage!
Thers.
Nay cheats Heav'n too with entrails and with offals;
Gives it the garbidge of a Sacrifice
And keeps the best for private Luxury.
Troil.
Thou hast deserv'd thy life, for cursing Priests:
Let me embrace thee; thou art beautifull:
That back, that nose; those eyes are beautiful:
Live, thou art honest; for thou hat'st a Priest.
Thers.
aside.
Farewell Trojan; if I scape with life, as I hope; and
thou art knock'd o'th head, as I hope too; I shall be the first that ever
scap'd the revenge of a Priest, after cursing him; and thou wilt not be
the last, I Prophecy that a Priest will bring to ruin.
[Exit Ther.
Troil.
Me thinks my soul is rowz'd to her last work:
Has much to do, and little time to spare.
She starts within me, like a Traveller
Who sluggishly out-slept his morning hour
And mends his pace, to reach his Inn betimes.
Noise within, follow, follow.
A Noise of Arms! the Traitor may be there:
Or else, perhaps, that conscious scene of Love,
The Tent may hold him, yet I dare not search
For oh I fear to find him in that place.
[Exit. Troilus.
Enter Calchas, Cressida.
Ceess.
Where is he? I'le be justify'd or dye.
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So quickly vanish'd! he was here but now:
He must be gone to search for Diomede,
For Diomede told me, here they were to fight.
Cress.
Alas! (Calch.) you must prevent, and not complain.
Cress.
If Troilus dye, I have no share in life.
Calch.
If Diomede sink beneath the sword of Troilus,
We lose not only a Protector here,
But are debard all future means of flight.
Cressi.
What then remains!
Calch.
To interpose betimes
Betwixt their swords; or if that cannot be
To intercede for him, who shall be vanquish'd,
Fate leaves no middle course.—
Exit. Calchas.
Clashing within.
Cressi.
Ah me I hear e'm;
And fear 'tis past prevention.
Enter Diomede, retiring before Troilus, and falling as he enters.
Troil.
Now beg thy life, or dye.
Diom.
No: use thy fortune:
I loath the life, which thou canst give, or take.
Troil.
Scornst thou my mercy villain!—take thy wish.—
Cressi.
Hold, hold your hand my Lord, and hear me speak.
Troilus turns back: in which time Diomede rises: Trojans and Greeks enter, and rank themselves on both sides of their Captains.
Troil.
Did I not hear the voice of perjur'd Cressida?
Com'st thou to give the last stab to my heart?
As if the proofs of all thy former falshood
Were not enough convincing, com'st thou now
To beg my Rivals life!
Whom, oh, if any spark of truth remain'd,
Thou coud'st not thus, ev'n to my face prefer!
Cressi.
What shall I say! that you suspect me false
Has struck me dumb! but let him live my Troilus,
By all our loves, by all our past endearments
I do adjure thee spare him.
Troil.
Hell, and death!
Cressi.
If ever I had pow'r to bend your mind,
Believe me still your faithful Cressida:
And though my innocence appear like guilt,
Because I make his forfeit life my suit,
'Tis but for this, that my return to you
Wou'd be cut off for ever by his death.
My father, treated like a slave and scorn'd,
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Troil.
Cou'd I believe thee, cou'd I think thee true
In triumph wou'd I bear thee back to Troy,
Though Greece could rally all her shatter'd troops,
And stand embatteld to oppose my way.
But, Oh, thou Syren, I will stop my ears
To thy enchanting notes; the winds shall bear
Upon their wings, thy words more light then they.
Cressi.
Alass I but dissembled love to him;
If ever he had any proof beyond
What modesty might give.—
Diom.
No! witnesse this— (the Ring shown.)
There, take her Trojan; thou deserv'st her best,
You good, kind-natur'd, well-believing fools
Are treasures to a woman.
I was a jealous, hard vexatious Lover
And doubted ev'n this pledge till full possession:
But she was honourable to her word;
And I have no just reason to complain.
Cressi.
O, unexampled, frontlesse impudence!
Troil.
Hell show me such another tortur'd wretch, as Troilus!
Diom.
Nay, grieve not: I resigne her freely up:
I'm satisfi'd: and dare engage for Cressida,
That if you have a promise of her person,
She shall be willing to come out of debt.
Cressi.
[kneeling.]
My only Lord: by all those holy vows
Which if there be a pow'r above are binding,
Or, if there be a Hell below, are fearful,
May every imprecation, which your rage
Can wish on me, take place, if I am false.
Diom.
Nay, since you're so concern'd to be believ'd,
I'm sorry I have press'd my charge so far;
Be what you wou'd be thought: I can be grateful.
Troil.
Grateful! Oh torment! now hells blewest flames
Receive her quick; with all her crimes upon her.
Let her sink spotted down. Let the dark host
Make room; and point: and hisse her, as she goes.
Let the most branded Ghosts of all her Sex
Rejoyce, and cry, here comes a blacker fiend.
Let her—
Cressi.
Enough my Lord; you've said enough:
This faithlesse, perjur'd, hated Cressida,
Shall be no more, the subject of your Curses:
Some few hours hence, and grief had done your work;
But then your eyes had miss'd the Satisfaction
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[She stabs her self they both run to her.
Diom.
Help; save her, help.
Cressi.
Stand off; and touch me not, thou Traitor, Diomede:
But you, my only Troilus come near:
Trust me the wound which I have giv'n this breast
Is far lesse painful, then the wound you gave it.
Oh, can you yet believe, that I am true!
Troil.
This were too much, ev'n if thou hadst been false!
But, Oh, thou purest, whitest innocence,
(For such I know thee now) too late I know it!
May all my curses, and ten thousand more
Heavier than they, fall back upon my head,
Pelion and Ossa from the Gyants graves,
Be torn by some avenging Deity,
And hurld at me, a bolder wretch then they,
Who durst invade the Skys!
Cressi.
Hear him not Heavens!
But hear me bless him with my latest breath:
And since I question not your hard decree,
That doom'd my days unfortunate and few,
Add all to him, you take away from me;
And I dye happy that he thinks me true.
[Dyes.
Troil.
She's gone for ever, and she blest me dying!
Cou'd she have curs'd me worse! she dy'd for me;
And like a woman, I lament for her:
Distraction pulls me several ways at once,
Here pity calls me to weep out my eyes;
Despair then turns me back upon my self,
And bids me seek no more, but finish here:
[Sword to his breast.
Ha, smilst thou Traitor, thou instruct'st me best,
And turn'st my just revenge to punish thee.
Diom.
Thy worst, for mine has been before hand with thee,
I triumph in thy vain credulity,
Which levels thy despairing state to mine:
But yet thy folly to believe a foe;
Makes thine the sharper, and more shamefull loss.
Troil.
By my few moments of remaining life;
I did not hope for any future joy,
But thou hast given me pleasure ere I dye:
To punish such a Villain.—Fight a part.
[To his Souldiers.
For Heaven and hell have mark'd him out for me,
And I shou'd grudg ev'n his least drop of blood,
To any other hand.—
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Enter Agamemnon, Menelaus, Ulisses, Nestor, Ajax, and Attendants.
Achill.
Our toyls are done, and those aspiring Walls
(The work of Gods, and almost mateing Heaven,)
Must crumble into rubbish on the plain.
Agam.
When mighty Hector fell beneath thy Sword,
Their Old foundations shook, their nodding Towers
Threatned from high, the amaz'd Inhabitants:
And Guardian Gods for fear forsook their fanes.
Achill.
Patroclus, now be quiet: Hectors dead:
And as a second offring to thy Ghost,
Lyes Troilus high upon a heap of slain:
And noble Diomede beneath; whose death
This hand of mine reveng'd.
Ajax.
Reveng'd it basely.
For Troilus fell by multitudes opprest;
And so fell Hector, but 'tis vain to talk.
Ulyss.
Hayl Agamemnon! truly Victor now!
While secret envy, and while open pride,
Among thy factious Nobles discord threw;
While publique good was urg'd for private ends,
And those thought Patriots, who disturb'd it most;
Then like the headstrong horses of the Sun,
That light which shou'd have cheer'd the World, consum'd it:
Now peacefull order has resum'd the reynes,
Old time looks young, and Nature seems renew'd:
Then, since from homebred Factions ruine springs,
Let Subjects learn obedience to their Kings.
[Exeunt Omnes,
| Troilus And Cressida, Or, Truth Found too Late | |