Chapter 7

_Ther_. Hold thy whore, Grecian; now for thy whore, Troian-now the sleeve, now the sleeve! Exeunt Troylus and Diomedes fighting

Enter Hector

_Hect_. What art thou, Greek? Art thou for Hector’s match? Art thou of blood and honour?

_Ther_. No, no-I am a rascal; a scurvy railing knave; a very filthy rogue.

_Hect_. I do believe thee. Live. Exit

_Ther_. God-a-mercy, that thou wilt believe me; but a plague break thy neck for frighting me! What’s become of the wenching rogues? I think they have swallowed one another. I would laugh at that miracle. Yet, in a sort, lechery eats itself. I’ll seek them. Exit

Enter Diomedes and a Servant

_Diom_. Go, go, my servant, take thou Troylus’ horse; Present the fair steed to my lady Creſſid. Fellow, commend my service to her beauty; Tell her I have chastis’d the amorous Troian, And am her knight by proof.

_Ser_. I go, my lord. Exit

Enter Agamemnon

_Agam_. Renew, renew! The fierce Polydamus Hath beat down enon; bastard Margarelon Hath Doreus prisoner, And stands colossus-wise, waving his beam, Upon the pashed corses of the kings Epistrophus and Cedius. Polixenes is slain; Amphimacus and Thoas deadly hurt; Patroclus ta’en, or slain; and Palamedes Sore hurt and bruis’d. The dreadful Sagittary Appals our numbers. Haste we, Diomed, To reinforcement, or we perish all.

Enter Nestor

_Nestor_. Go, bear Patroclus’ body to Achilles, And bid the snail-pac’d Aiax arm for shame. There is a thousand Hectors in the field; Now here he fights on Galathe his horse, And there lacks work; anon he’s there afoot, And there they fly or die, like scaled sculls Before the belching whale; then is he yonder, And there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge, Fall down before him like the mower’s swath. Here, there, and everywhere, he leaves and takes; Dexterity so obeying appetite That what he will he does, and does so much That proof is call’d impossibility.

Enter Vlyſſes

_Vlyſ_. O, courage, courage, courage, Princes! Great Achilles Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance. Patroclus’ wounds have rous’d his drowsy blood, Together with his mangled Myrmidons, That noseless, handless, hack’d and chipp’d, come to him, Crying on Hector. Aiax hath lost a friend And foams at mouth, and he is arm’d and at it, Roaring for Troylus; who hath done to-day Mad and fantastic execution, Engaging and redeeming of himself With such a careless force and forceless care As if that luck, in very spite of cunning, Bade him win all.

Enter Aiax

_Aiax_. Troylus! thou coward Troylus! Exit

_Diom_. Ay, there, there.

_Nestor_. So, so, we draw together. Exit Enter Achilles

_Achil_. Where is this Hector? Come, come, thou boy-queller, show thy face; Know what it is to meet Achilles angry. Hector! where’s Hector? I will none but Hector. Exeunt

Enter Aiax

_Aiax_. Troylus, thou coward Troylus, show thy head.

Enter Diomedes

_Diom_. Troylus, I say! Where’s Troylus?

_Aiax_. What wouldst thou?

_Diom_. I would correct him.

_Aiax_. Were I the general, thou shouldst have my office Ere that correction. Troylus, I say! What, Troylus!

Enter Troylus

_Troy_. O traitor Diomed! Turn thy false face, thou traitor, And pay thy life thou owest me for my horse.

_Diom_. Ha! art thou there?

_Aiax_. I’ll fight with him alone. Stand, Diomed.

_Diom_. He is my prize. I will not look upon.

_Troy_. Come, both, you cogging Greeks; have at you Exeunt fighting

Enter Hector

_Hect_. Yea, Troylus? O, well fought, my youngest brother!

Enter Achilles

_Achil_. Now do I see thee, ha! Have at thee, Hector!

_Hect_. Pause, if thou wilt.

_Achil_. I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Troian. Be happy that my arms are out of use; My rest and negligence befriends thee now, But thou anon shalt hear of me again; Till when, go seek thy fortune. Exit

_Hect_. Fare thee well. I would have been much more a fresher man, Had I expected thee.

Re-enter Troylus

How now, my brother!

_Troy_. Aiax hath ta’en Æneas. Shall it be? No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven, He shall not carry him; I’ll be ta’en too, Or bring him off. Fate, hear me what I say: I reck not though thou end my life to-day. Exit

Enter one in armour

_Hect_. Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou art a goodly mark. No? wilt thou not? I like thy armour well; I’ll frush it and unlock the rivets all But I’ll be master of it. Wilt thou not, beast, abide? Why then, fly on; I’ll hunt thee for thy hide. Exeunt

Enter Achilles, with Myrmidons

_Achil_. Come here about me, you my Myrmidons; Mark what I say. Attend me where I wheel; Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath; And when I have the bloody Hector found, Empale him with your weapons round about; In fellest manner execute your arms. Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye. It is decreed Hector the great must die. Exeunt

Enter Menelaus and Paris, fighting; then Thersites

_Ther_. The cuckold and the cuckold-maker are at it. Now, bull! now, dog! ’Loo, Paris, ’loo! now my double-horn’d Spartan! ’loo, Paris, ’loo! The bull has the game. Ware horns, ho! Exeunt Paris and Menelaus

Enter Bastard

_Baſt_. Turn, slave, and fight.

_Ther_. What art thou?

_Baſt_. A bastard son of Priam’s.

_Ther_. I am a bastard too; I love bastards. I am a bastard begot, bastard instructed, bastard in mind, bastard in valour, in everything illegitimate. One bear will not bite another, and wherefore should one bastard? Take heed, the quarrel’s most ominous to us: if the son of a whore fight for a whore, he tempts judgement. Farewell, bastard. Exit

_Baſt_. The devil take thee, coward! Exit

Enter Hector

_Hect_. Most putrified core so fair without, Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life. Now is my day’s work done; I’ll take good breath: Rest, sword; thou hast thy fill of blood and death! [Disarms]

Enter Achilles and his Myrmidons

_Achil_. Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set; How ugly night comes breathing at his heels; Even with the vail and dark’ning of the sun, To close the day up, Hector’s life is done.

_Hect_. I am unarm’d; forego this vantage, Greek.

_Achil_. Strike, fellows, strike; this is the man I seek. [Hector falls] So, Ilion, fall thou next! Come, Troy, sink down; Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone. On, Myrmidons, and cry you an amain ‘Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.’ [A retreat sounded] Hark! a retire upon our Grecian part.

_Gree_. The Troian trumpets sound the like, my lord.

_Achil_. The dragon wing of night o’erspreads the earth And, stickler-like, the armies separates. My half-supp’d sword, that frankly would have fed, Pleas’d with this dainty bait, thus goes to bed. [Sheathes his sword] Come, tie his body to my horse’s tail; Along the field I will the Troian trail. Exeunt

Sound retreat. Shout. Enter Agamemnon, Aiax, Menelaus, Nestor, Diomedes, and the rest, marching

_Agam_. Hark! hark! what shout is this?

_Nestor_. Peace, drums!

_Sold_. [Within] Achilles! Achilles! Hector’s slain. Achilles!

_Diom_. The bruit is Hector’s slain, and by Achilles.

_Aiax_. If it be so, yet bragless let it be; Great Hector was as good a man as he.

_Agam_. March patiently along. Let one be sent To pray Achilles see us at our tent. If in his death the gods have us befriended; Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are ended. Exeunt

Enter Æneas, Paris, Antenor, and Diephœbus

_Æne_. Stand, ho! yet are we masters of the field. Never go home; here starve we out the night.

Enter Troylus

_Troy_. Hector is slain. ALL. Hector! The gods forbid!

_Troy_. He’s dead, and at the murderer’s horse’s tail, In beastly sort, dragg’d through the shameful field. Frown on, you heavens, effect your rage with speed. Sit, gods, upon your thrones, and smile at Troy. I say at once let your brief plagues be mercy, And linger not our sure destructions on.

_Æne_. My lord, you do discomfort all the host.

_Troy_. You understand me not that tell me so. I do not speak of flight, of fear of death, But dare all imminence that gods and men Address their dangers in. Hector is gone. Who shall tell Priam so, or Hecuba? Let him that will a screech-owl aye be call’d Go in to Troy, and say there ‘Hector’s dead.’ There is a word will Priam turn to stone; Make wells and Niobes of the maids and wives, Cold statues of the youth; and, in a word, Scare Troy out of itself. But, march away; Hector is dead; there is no more to say. Stay yet. You vile abominable tents, Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian plains, Let Titan rise as early as he dare, I’ll through and through you. And, thou great-siz’d coward, No space of earth shall sunder our two hates; I’ll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still, That mouldeth goblins swift as frenzy’s thoughts. Strike a free march to Troy. With comfort go; Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe.

Enter Pandarus

_Pan_. But hear you, hear you!

_Troy_. Hence, broker-lackey. Ignominy and shame Pursue thy life and live aye with thy name! Exeunt all but Pandarus

_Pan_. A goodly medicine for my aching bones! world! world! thus is the poor agent despis’d! traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you set a work, and how ill requited! Why should our endeavour be so lov’d, and the performance so loathed? What verse for it? What instance for it? Let me see. Full merrily the humble-bee doth sing Till he hath lost his honey and his sting; And being once subdu’d in armed trail, Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail. Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted cloths. As many as be here of pander’s hall, Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar’s fall; Or, if you cannot weep, yet give some groans, Though not for me, yet for your aching bones. Brethren and sisters of the hold-door trade, Some two months hence my will shall here be made. It should be now, but that my fear is this, Some galled goose of Winchester would hiss. Till then I’ll sweat and seek about for eases, And at that time bequeath you my diseases. Exeunt

FINIS.