University of Virginia Library

Actus Secundus:

Scœna prima.

Enter Æneas, and Chorebus.
Æneas.
The Grecians gone?

Cho.
All their tents rais'd, their ten yeares siege remoou'd
Now Troy may rest securely.

Æne.
They may report at their returne to Greece
The welcome they haue had: what haue they wonne?
But wounds, Times losse, shame, and confussion.

Enter K. Priam, Anthenor, young Polytes, Polixena, Hecuba, and Hellen, with attendance.
Pri.
We now are Lord of our owne Territories,
Ten yeares kept from vs by th'inuading Greekes:
Now wee may freely take a full suruey
Of all Scamander plaine, drunke with the mixture
Of th'opposite bloods of Troians and of Greekes.

Hecu.
And royall Husband we haue cause to ioy,
That after so long siege the Greekes are fled,
And you in peace may rest your aged head.

Æne.
Vpon this East-side stood Vlisses Tent,
The polliticke Greeke.

Cho.
There was old Nestors quarter,
And Agamemnons that; the Generall.

Pria.
Vpon the north-side of the field, Achilles
That bloody Greeke pitcht, and vpon this plaine,
I well remember, was my Hector slayne.

Hel.
This empty place being South from all the rest,
The valiant Diomed hath oft made good,
And here, euen here, his rich Pauillion stood.

Hecu.
But here, euen here, neere to Duke Aiax tent,
Round girt with Mirmidons, my Troilus fell.

Cho.
Then was this place a standing Lake of blood,
Part of which moysture the bright Sunne exhald;
And part the thirsty earth hath quaft to Mars:
But now the swords on eyther part are sheath'd,
And after ten yeares tumults warres surcease,
They layding their ships home with shamefull peace.

Pria.
For which we'le prayse the gods, banquet and feast,
Since by their flight, our glorious fame's increast.

The Horse is discouered.
Æne.
Soft, what huge Engine's that left on the strond,
That beares the shape and figure of an Horse.

Cho.
What, shal we hew it peace-meale with our swords?

Pria.
Oh be not rash, sure tis some mistery
That this great Architecture doth include.

Cho.
But mine opinion is, this Steedes huge bulke
Is stuft with Greekish guile.

Æne.
I rather thinke
It is some monumentall Edifice
Vnto the goddesse Pallas consecrate:
Then spare your fury.

Enter Laocoon with a Iauelin.
Lao.
Why stand you gazing at this horrid craft,
Forg'd by the slye Vlisses, is his braine
Vnknowne in Troy? or can you looke for safety
From those who ten yeares haue besieg'd your wals?
Either this huge swolne bulke is big with souldiers,
Longing to be deliuer'd of arm'd Greekes,
Whose monstrous fatall and abhorred birth,
Will be Troyes ruine: else this hill of timber
This horse-like structure stabled vp in Troy,
Wil spurne down these our wals, our towers demolish,
Which it shall neuer: come you Troian youth
That loue the publicke safety, no proud Greeke
Vpon this Steedes backe, o're Troyes wall shall ride.
First with this Iauelin Ile transpearce his side.

Pria.
What meanes Laocoon?

Æne.
Princes stay his fury.

Lao.
Harke Troians, if a iarring noyse of Armes,
Sighed not throw these deep Cauernes, I devine
This gluttenous wombe hath swallowed a whole band
Of men in steele, then with your swords and glaues
Rip vp his tough sides, and imbowell him,
That we may prooue how they haue lin'd his intrailes.

Enter two souldier's bringing in Synon bound.
Soul.
Stay, and proceed, no further in your rage,
Till we haue learnt some nouell from this Greeke,
Whom in a ditch we found fast giu'd and bound.

Pria.
Laocoon cease thy violence till we know
From that poore Grecian, what that Machine meanes.

Syn.
Oh me, (of all on earth most miserable,)
Whom neither Heauens will succour, earth preserue,
Nor seas keepe safe, I, whom the Heauens dispise,
The Earth abandnos, and the Seas disdaine:
Where shal I shroud me? whom, but now the Greekes
Threatned with vengeance; and escap'd from them,
Falne now into the hands of Troians, menacing death:
The world affoords no place, to wretched Synon,
Of comfort, for where ere I fixe my foote,
I tread vpon my graue: the foure vast corners
Of this large Vniuerse, in all their roomes
And spacious emptinesse, will not affoord me
My bodies length of rest: where ere I flye,
Or stay, or turne, Death's th'obiect of mine eye.

Pria.
What art thou? or whence com'st thou? briefly speake.
Thou wretched man, thou moou'st vs with thy teares:
Vnbind him souldiers.

Syn.
Shall I deny my selfe to be of Greece?
Because I am brought Captiue into Troy?
No Synon cannot lye: Heauen, Earth, and Sea,
From all which I am out-cast, witnesse with me
That Synon cannot lye: thrice damn'd Vlisses,
The black-hair'd Pyrhus, and horned Menelaus
Crook-back'd Thersites, luxurious Diomed,
And all the rable of detested Greekes,
I call to witnesse, Synon cannot lye.
Could I haue oyl'd my tongue, and cring'd my ham,
Suppled mine humble knee to croutch and bend,
Heau'd at my bonnet, shrugg'd my shoulders thus,
Grin'd in their faces, Synon then had stood,
Whom now this houre must stue in his own blood.

Æne.
The perfect image of a wretched creature,
His speeches begge remorse.

Pria.
Alas good man,
Shake off the timerous feare of seruile death,
Though 'mongst vs Troians, and thy selfe a Greeke,
Thou art not now amongst thine enemies,
Thy life Ile warrant, onely let vs know
What this Horse meanes.

Syn.
Greece I renounce thee, thou hast throwne me off,
Faire Troy I am thy creature. Now Ile vnrip
Vlisses craft, my fatall enemy.
Who sold to death the Duke Palamides,
My Kinsman Troians (though in garments torne)
Synon stands here, yet is he nobly borne:
For that knowne murder did I haint his Tent
With rayling menaces, horrible exclaimes,
Many a blacke-saint, of wishes, oathes, and curses
Haue I sung at his window, then demaunding
Iustice of Agamemnon, Diomed,
Duke Nestor with the other Lords of Greece,
For murder of the Prince Palamides,
And being denide it in my most vexation,
My bitter tongue spar'd not to barke at them:
For this I was obseru'd, lookt through and through
Ulisses braine had markt me, for my tongue
And fatted me for death by Calchas meanes,
He wrought so farre that I should haue bin offred
Vnto the gods for sacrifice, the Priest
Lifting his hand aloft to strike me dead,
I lept downe from the Altar, and so fled,
Pursuite and search was made, but I lay safe
In a thicke tuft of sedge, till I was found
By these your souldiers, who thus brought me bound.

Pria.
Thou now art free secur'd from all their tyranny:
Now tell vs what's the meaning of this Horse?
Why haue they left him here, themselues being gon?

Syn.
My new releas'd hands, thus I heaue on hye,
Witnesse you gods, that Synon cannot lye.
But as a new adopted Troian now
By Priams grace; I here protest by Ioue,
By these eternall fires that spangle Heauen,
The Alter, and that sacrificing sword,
Beneath whose stroake I lay, since my base Country
Casts me away to death, I am now borne
A sonne of Troy: not Hector whilst he liu'd
More dammag'd Greece by his all wounding arme,
Then I by my discouery: Well, you know
How the Greekes honour Pallas, who inceast
Because Vlisses the Palladium stole
Out of her Temple, and her Warders slew,
In rage she threatned ruine to all Greece:
Therefore to her hath Calchas built this Horse.
(Greece pardon me, and all my Countrey gods
Be deafe to Synons tale, and let it bee
Henceforth forgot that I was borne in Greece,
Least times to come record what I reueale,
The blacke confusion of my Natiue weale.

Priam.
And what's that Synon?

Syn.
Where left I? at the Horse, built of that size,
Least you should giue it entrance at your Gates:
For know should your rude hands dare to prophan
This gift sacred to Pallas: Rots and diseases,
Pests and infections shall depopulate you,
And in a small short season, they returning,
Shal see thy subiects slain, faire Troy bright burning.
I'm euen with thee Vlisses, and my breath
Strikes all Greece home for my intended death.

Pria.
Thankes Synon, we shall bounteously reward thee,

Æne.
And see my Leige, to make good his report,
Laocoon, he that with his Iauelin pierst
This gift of Pallas, round embrac'd with Snakes,
That winde their traines about his wounded wast,
And for his late presumption sting him dead.

Pria.
We haue not seene so strange a prodigy,
Laocoon hath offended all the gods,
In his prophane attempt.

Syn.
Then lend your helping hands,
To lift vp that Pallad an monument
Into Troyes Citty: Leauers, Cables, Cords.

Cho.
It cannot enter through the Citty Gates.

Syn.
Downe with the wals then.

Cho.
These wals that ten yeares haue defended Troy,
For all their seruice shall wee ruine them.

Syn.
But this shall not defend you for ten yeares,
But make your Towne impregnable for euer.

Fria.
Downe with the wals then, each man lend a hand.

Cho.
I heare a noyse of Armour.

Æne.
Ha, what's that?

Cho.
I feare some treason in that Horse inclosed:
Nor will I lend an hand to hale him in.

Omnes.
Downe with the Wals.

Æne.
And Troians now after your ten years toile,
Dayes battailes, the fields trouble, and nights watch,
This is the first of all your rest, feast, banquet, ioy and play,
Pallas is ours, the Greekes sayl'd hence away.

Pria.
Here we release all Centries and commit
Our broken wals to her Celestiall guard:
We will reward thee Synon, the Greekes gone,
Priam. may rest his age, in his soft throne.

Exe.
Syn.
So, so, so,
Synon I hope shall warme his hands annon,
At a bright goodly bone-fire: Here's the Key
Vnto this Machine by Epeus built,
Which hath already with his brazen brest,
Tilted Troies wall downe, and annon being drunke
With the best blood of Greece, in dead of night
Hauing surcharg'd his stomacke, will spew out
A thousand men in Armes: sweet mid-night come,
I long to maske me in thy sable Wings,
That I may do some mischiefe and blacke deedes:
We shall haue rare sport, admirable spoyle,
Cutting of throats, with stabbing, wounding, killing
Some dead a sleep, and some halfe sleep, halfe wakes
Some dancing Antickes in their bloody shirts,
To which their wiues cries, & their infants shreeks,
Play musicke, braue mirth, pleasing harmony:
Then hauing spitt young children on our speares,
We'le rost them at the scorching flames of Troy:
Flye swift you winged minutes till you catch
That long-wisht houre of stilnes: in which Troy
Sleeps her last sleep, made drunk with wine and ioy.
In the receiuing of this fatall Steede,
Sicke Troy this day hath swallowed such a pill,
Shall search her intrayles, and her liues blood spill.

Exit.
Enter Agamemnon, Menelaus, Vlisses, with souldiers in a soft march, without noise.
Aga.
Soft, soft, and let your stilnesse suite with night,
Faire Phebe keepe thy siluer splendor in,
And be not seene to night.

Mene.
Were Phebe in my case,
She soone would blush to show her horned face.

Vliss.
We would not haue a starre cast it's cleare eye
On our darke enterprise: too fast: so, still.
Here Ambush, till you see the flaming Torch,
Synon this night vpon the wals of Troy,
Will tosse about his eares, as a true signall,
The great Epean structure is receiu'd,
And we may find safe entrance by the breach.

Aga.
A stand, the word through all the Regiment,

Mene.
A stand.

Enter Synon with a torch aboue.
Syn.
Thy euerlasting sleepe, sleepe carelesse Troy,
This horrid night buried in Wine and mirth,
This fatall Horse spur'd by the braine of Synon,
Hath lept ore Troys high bulwarks great with Greeks,
Foure times in raysing vp the monument,
A shaking sound of Armour harshly iar'd
In all the Princes eares, and had they not
Beene drunk in Synons teares, they'd found our guile.
It is now mid-night. The blacke darknesse falne,
And rould o're all the world, as well the Poles,
As the great Ocean, and the earth: now's the time
For tragicke slaughter, clad in gules and sables,
To spring out of Hels iawes, and play strang reakes
In sleepy Troy, this bright and flaming brand
Which I so often gire about mine eares,
Is signall for the Armies quicke returne,
And make proud Islium like my bright torch burne,
Winke all you eyes of Heauen, or you shall be
Blood-shot to view Troyes dismall Tragedy.

Exit.
Aga.
The signals on the wal: forward braue souldiers,
The Horse is entred, Synons Tale beleeu'd.
And wee this night shall see the sacke of Troy.

Men.
March on then, the black darknes couers vs,
And we without suspition easily may
Disperse our selues about these high built wals:

Vlis.
Now with a soft march enter at this breach
But giue no token of a loud Alarme,
Till we haue met with Pyrhus and the rest,
Whom the Steedes bulke includes.

They march softly in at one doore, and presently in at another. Enter Synon with a stealing pace, holding the key in his hand.
Syn.
Soft, soft, ey so, hereafter Ages tell,
How Synons key vnlockt the gates of Hell.

Pyrhus, Diomed, and the rest, leape from out the Horse. And as if groping in the darke, meete with Agamemnon and the rest: who after knowledge imbrace.
Pyrhus.
The Generall?

Agam.
Pyrhus?

Dio.
Menelaus?

Mene.
Diomed?

Ther.
My Vrchin?

Syn.
What my Tonde?

Pyr.
Well met in Troy great Lords.

Vlis.
Where are wee now?

Sy.
In the high street, nere to the Church of Pallas,
And this you past, the gate cal'd Dardanus.

Pyr.
Then here begins Troyes fatall tragedy:
Princes of Greece, at once vnsheath your swords,
And heare protest with Neoptolemus,
By our fore-father Peleus, grandam Thetis,
The Emperious goddesse of the Sea, that made
Achilles, saue in th'heele, invulnerable,
And by my father great Æacides,
His glorious name, his Armour which I weare,
His bloody wounds, and his blacke sepulchre;
I here abiure all respite, mercy, sleepe,
Vntill this Citty be a place confus'd:
This murall girdle that begirts it round
A Cawsey for the Greekes to trample on,
The place a stone-heape swimming in an Ocean
Of Troian blood, which shall from farre appeare
Like an high Rocke in the red Sea.

Syn.
A braue show,
To see full Boates in blood of Troians rowe,
And the poore labouring Snakes with armes spread swimme
In luke-warme blood of their allyes and kin.

Men.
Whence must this Ocean flowe?
From thousand Springs
Of gentle and ignoble, base and Kings.

Pyr.
Set on then, none retire;
Waue in the one hand steele, in the other fire.
Loude Drummes and Trumpets ring Troyes fatall peale,
That now lyes drawing on, the word be vengeance,
Alarum, at that watch-word fire, and kill,
And wide-mouth'd Orchus with whole legions fill.

Aloude Alarum. Enter a Troian in his night-gowne all vnready.
Tro.
T'was an alarum sure that frighted mee
In my dead sleepe, 'twas neare the Dardan port:
Ioue grant that all be well.

Enter his wife as from bed.
Wife.
Oh Heauen! what tumult's this
That hurryes through the fatall streetes of Troy
I feare some treason.

Tro.
Stay Wife, lay thine eare
Vnto the ground and list, if we can gather
Of what condition this strange vproare is
That riots at this late vnseasoned houre?
Sure 'tis the noise of war, whence should it grow?
The Greekes are sayl'd hence, Troy needes feare no foe.

Wife.
The horrid stirre comes on this way towards vs.

Troi.
Oh whither shall we turne?

A great cry within. Alarum, Enter Pyrhus with the rest their weapons draw and torches.
Wife.
Oh saue mee husband.

Troi.
Succour me deere wife.

Omnes.
Vengeance for Greece and Neoptolemus.

Pyr.
So flye the word along, dye old and young,
Mourne Troy in ashes for Achilles losse,
Steele in one hand, in th'other fire-brands tosse.

Exeunt:
Enter Chorebus at one doore, at another Æneas with their weapons drawne.
Cho.
This horrid clamour that hath cal'd mee vp
From my deepe rest, much, much amazeth mee;
Tis on the right hand, now vpon the left,
It goes before me and it followes mee:
Oh Ioue expound the meaning of this horrour
Which the darke mid-night makes more terrible.

Æne.
this streete is cleare, but now I climb'd a Turret.
And I might well discerne alfe Troy in fire,
And by the flame the burnisht Helmets glister
Of men in Armes, whence Ioue Olympicke knowes.

Enter a second Troian.
2. Tro.
Where shall I hide me? Treason, Troyes betray'd;
The fatall horse was full of armed Greekes.

Chore.
Of Greekes? damn'd Synon.

2. Tro.
Prince Chorebus fly,
Fly great Æneas.

Cho.
Which way? where? or how?
Are we not rounded with a quick-set hedge
Of pointed steele? are not the gates possest
And strongly man'd with Greekes? death euery where,
Then whither should we flye?

Æne.
Into the throng.
Where blowes are dealt, where our inflamed Turrets
Burne with most fury.

Cho.
Nobly speakes Æneas.

Æne.
Then whither flames, and furies, shreiks and clamors
Death, danger, and the deuils hurry vs,
Thither will we: follow where I shall lead,
Thousands shall fall by vs ere we be dead.

Enter Thersites with other Greekes.
Ther.
Charge on these naked Troians, and cry thus,
Vengeance for Greece and Neoptolemus.

Cho.
Charge on these armed Grecians, and thus cry,
We may yet liue to see ten thousand dye.

They charge the Greekes and kill them, Thersites runs away.
Cho.
Well fought braue spirits in our vtter ruine,
We are Conquerours yet: let's don these Greekish habits,
And mixe our selues amongst their Armed ranks;
So vnexpected murder all we meete:
The darkenesse will assist our enterprise.
These Greekish Armes this night by Troians worne
Shall to the fall of many Grecians turne.

Enter all the Greekes.
Omnes.
Burne fire, and kill, as you wound cry thus,
Vengeance for Greece and Neoptolemus.

Exeunt.
Enter Æneas followed by Hectors ghost
Æne.
What art thou that with such a grim aspect,
In this black night so darke and turbulent,
Haunts me in euery corner of my house
Which yet burnes o're mine eares?

Hect.
Doest thou not know me?
Or can Æneas so forget his friend?
This face did fright Achilles in the field,
And when I shooke these lockes, now knotted all,
As bak't in blood; all Greece hath quak't and trembled.
Looke on mine Heeles, and thou maist see those thongs
By which so often I was dragg'd 'bout Troy,
My body made an vniuersall wound
By the vnnumbred hands of Mirmidons,
This th'hand that tost so many wild-fire balls
Into the Argiue fleete, and this the body
That deck't in Aiax and Achilles spoyles
Ridde from the fields triumphant thorow Troy.

Æne.
Prince Hector?

Hect.
Hence Æneas post from Troy,
Reare that abroad the gods at home destroy.
The Citty burnes, Priam and Priams glory
Is all expir'd, and tumbled headlong downe:
Cassandraes long neglected prophesies
This night fulfils. If either strength or might
Could haue protected Troy, this hand, this arme
That sau'd it oft, had kept it still from harme.
But Troy is doom'd, here gins the fatall Story
Of her sad sacke and fall of all her glory.
Away, and beare thy Country gods along,
Thousands shall issue from thy sacred seede,
Citties more rich then this the Grecian spoyle,
In after times shall thy successors build,
Where Hectors name shall liue eternally.
One Romulus, another Bruite shall reare,
These shall nor Honours, nor iust Rectors want,
Lumbardies roome, great Britaines Troy-nouant.
Heufuge nate Dea, teque his pater eripe flammis;
Hostis habet muros, ruit alto a culmine Troia
Sacra, suosquetibi commendat Troia penates
Hoscape fatorum comites, his mœnia quære
Magna: pererrato statues quæ denique ponto.

Exit.
Æne.
Soft lie thy bones and sweetly may they rest
Thou wonder of all worthyes, but Troy burnes:
Thousands of Troian Corses blocke the streetes,
Some flying fall, and some their killers kill:
Where shall I meete thee death? before I flye,
Some Conquerours yet, shall brauely conquered die.

Exit.