University of Virginia Library

SCENE VII.

—Troy. Near the Scæan Gate. Alarums, shouts, &c.
Enter Cupid.
Cupid.
Now are they clapperclawing one another.
By right, I ought to go and tell my mother;
But then to miss the sport! All foods above,
Mischief is the real nourishment of love;
And Love may yet save Ilion—there's no telling.
The puppy Paris fights for his rib Helen,
As even curs will fight for bones of their bones;
While Troilus, worn, through Cressid false, to bare bones,
Preserves an arm of muscle, and still strikes it.
Hector, of course, fights on because he likes it.

Enter Patroclus [R.], Troilus following.
Troi.
Fly not! If thou the river Styx should take,
I would swim after thee.

Patro.
I'm wide awake:
The game of sticks two play at. I prefer
The single-handed stumps, which I shall stir

[Runs out L., Troilus after him.
Cupid
[clapping his hands].
Now, Grecian! At him, Trojan! Hang the cost!
The game is all for Love and Troy well lost.

[Exit after them, L.
Enter Hector [R.], in the helmet, breastplate, &c., of Achilles.
Hector.
They have tied me to a stake—I cannot flee;
But, bear-like, I must fight the course. What's he
Invulnerable except about the heel?
From such alone have I alarm to feel.

Enter Teucer [L.].
Teucer.
What is thy name?

Hector.
When thou dost learn thou'lt fear it.

Teucer.
That is as may be: I should like to hear it.

Hector.
Hector!

Teucer.
The prey of which I am in chase.

Hector.
You poor dear child! the heel's not your soft place.

[Aims a blow at his head, which Ajax, entering L., wards off with his shield. Makes a rapid sign for Teucer to be off. Teucer obeys, and exit L.
Ajax.
You'd strike my little brother—

Hector.
Great or small.

[They fight.
Ajax.
P'rhaps I'm to have that licking, after all.

[Hector and Ajax fight off L.
Homer
[who has entered following them, writes].
A splendid incident, I'd not have miss'd
For half the world, to finish up my list.
“Hector”—hum!—“Teucer, Ajax”—good!—“left fighting.”
[Alarums.
“Dreadful impossibility of writing;
But still your correspondent's reputation
For judgment, aided by imagination—”
[Looks off R.
“The fierce Achilles, arm'd with sword and javelin—
E'en as I write!”—
[A dreadful explosion, L.
Murder!—“Pop goes the ravelin.”

[Exit, alarmed, in a hurry, L.
Enter Achilles [R.].
Achilles.
That way the noise is. Robber, show thy mug!
If any other sword than mine be dug
Within thy ribs deeply enough to kill,
My pegtop trousers' ghosts will haunt me still.
I see him, then! Who knock'd Patroclus flat?
Who stole the donkey? Him in the pith hat.

[Exit L., furiously. Alarums, shouts.
Enter Ulysses, Diomed, Menelaus, Nestor, and Talthybius, with Soldiers [R.].
Ulys.
This way, my friends the town is gently render'd—
Priam and sons have their submission tender'd,
Save Hector and young Troilus, still high-mettled:
Them Ajax and Achilles must have settled.

Dio.
Who saw the king?

Ulys.
Hech, I did—in the 'fray,
Striving 'gainst fearful odds—to run away.
But let's be first to Æneas' abode,
Where, I'm inform'd, there's lots of siller stow'd.
SONG.—Ulysses.

[Exeunt L. 2nd. Alarums, drums, &c.
Enter Hector, L. (first), à la Macbeth. Rushes across to R., going to fall on his sword.
Hector.
Why should I play the Roman fool and die?
As Rome's not built yet—echo answers, why?
I'll stop and fight it out.

Enter Achilles [L.].
Achilles.
Turn hell-hound!

Hector.
Bother
You and your turns! Still one deserves another.
Yet no; I'll spare your head—you take a pride of it,
And I've got all 'tis worth—

Achilles.
What?

Hector
[touching helmet].
The outside of it.

Achilles.
I have no words—my voice is in my sword.

[Strikes at him. Hector wards the blow calmly.
Hector.
It hasn't said much yet.
[Achilles strikes again. Business repeated.
Don't hear a word;
You're losing labour. P'rhaps you're not aware
I bear a charmed life, and need not care,
But for a man whom weapons cannot harm,
Save in the heel alone.

Achilles.
Despair thy charm,
And let the oracle who taught that truth
Tell thee, Achilles, in his earliest youth,
One night—'twas Saturday—for washing stripp'd
(The tub not ready), in the Styx was dipp'd

Hector.
Accursed be the tongue that tells me so!
There you're invulnerable: of course I know
The river's charm. But how about the heel?

Achilles.
My mother, finding me inclined to squeal,
Held me by that as me the stream she put in it.

Hector.
This time, at least, I hope you've put your foot in it.
Who cares for oracles? Lay on, you muff,
And d---

Achilles.
Don't be coarse.

Hector.
Who first cries, “Hold, enough.”

[They fight.
Enter Agamemnon [L.], puffing and blowing à la Falstaff.
Aga.
Well said, Achilles! At him on the head!

Enter Troilus [L.].
Troi.
Patroclus has escaped; you'll do instead.

[He attacks Agamemnon, who falls down as if dead, and exit R. Hector falls wounded.
Hector.
Achilles, thou hast knock'd me off life's hook.
The loss of brittle life I better brook
Than those proud titles thou hast won of me:
They'll make you, I've no doubt, a K. C. B.
Oh! I could prophesy but for this dizziness.
Besides, I wasn't brought up to the business.
My sister was Cassandra, who, I trust—
No more at present. Hector, thou art dust,
And food for—

[Falls senseless.
Achilles.
Worms—great Hector would have said,
But ere he spoke the word his spirit fled.
At least I hope so; p'rhaps 'twas but a stun.
The heart beats not. I'll for my chariot run,
And drag him, tied behind it, round the city.
'Twill be effective, though perhaps not pretty.

[Exit R. Agamemnon rises slowly.
Aga.
It strikes me forcibly—I'm not quite clear—
I'm plagiarising somebody's idea,
In saying (p'rhaps 'tis merely a conjectur')
I am afraid of this gunpowder Hector.
Though he be dead, 'twould be a pleasant treat
Should he, as well as I, prove counterfeit;
Therefore I think—you couldn't blame me, could you?—
I'll just make sure, and say I kill'd him.

[Going to stab Hector.
Hector
[looking up].
Would you?

[Agamemnon runs off bellowing R., Hector after him.
N.B.—Hector, on rising, to give the idea of a man who has really just recovered his senses.