Текст книги "William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition"
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5.3 Enter Hector armed, and Andromache
ANDROMACHE
When was my lord so much ungently tempered
To stop his ears against admonishment?
Unarm, unarm, and do not fight today.
HECTOR
You train me to offend you. Get you in.
By all the everlasting gods, I’ll go.
ANDROMACHE
My dreams will sure prove ominous to the day.
HECTOR
No more, I say.
Enter Cassandra
CASSANDRA Where is my brother Hector?
ANDROMACHE
Here, sister, armed and bloody in intent.
Consort with me in loud and dear petition,
Pursue we him on knees—for I have dreamed
Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night
Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter.
CASSANDRA
O ’tis true.
HECTOR Ho! Bid my trumpet sound.
CASSANDRA
No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet brother.
HECTOR
Begone, I say. The gods have heard me swear.
CASSANDRA
The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows.
They are polluted off’rings, more abhorred
Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.
ANDROMACHE (to Hector)
O, be persuaded. Do not count it holy
To hurt by being just. It is as lawful,
For we would give much, to use violent thefts,
And rob in the behalf of charity.
CASSANDRA
It is the purpose that makes strong the vow,
But vows to every purpose must not hold.
Unarm, sweet Hector.
HECTOR Hold you still, I say.
Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate.
Life every man holds dear, but the dear man
Holds honour far more precious-dear than life.
Enter Troilus, armed
How now, young man, mean’st thou to fight today?
ANDROMACHE ⌈aside⌉
Cassandra, call my father to persuade. Exit Cassandra
HECTOR
No, faith, young Troilus. Doff thy harness, youth.
I am today i’th’ vein of chivalry.
Let grow thy sinews till their knots be strong,
And tempt not yet the brushes of the war.
Unarm thee, go—and doubt thou not, brave boy,
I’ll stand today for thee and me and Troy.
TROILUS
Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you,
Which better fits a lion than a man.
HECTOR
What vice is that? Good Troilus, chide me for it.
TROILUS
When many times the captive Grecian falls
Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword,
You bid them rise and live.
HECTOR O ’tis fair play.
TROILUS Fool’s play, by heaven, Hector.
HECTOR How now! How now!
TROILUS For th’ love of all the gods,
Let’s leave the hermit pity with our mother
And, when we have our armours buckled on,
The venomed vengeance ride upon our swords,
Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth.
HECTOR
Fie, savage, fie!
TROILUS Hector, then ’tis wars.
HECTOR
Troilus, I would not have you fight today.
TROILUS Who should withhold me?
Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars
Beck‘ning with fiery truncheon my retire,
Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees,
Their eyes o’er-gallèd with recourse of tears,
Nor you, my brother, with your true sword drawn
Opposed to hinder me, should stop my way
But by my ruin.
Enter Priam and Cassandra
CASSANDRA
Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him fast.
He is thy crutch: now if thou loose thy stay,
Thou on him leaning and all Troy on thee,
Fall all together.
PRIAM Come, Hector, come. Go back.
Thy wife hath dreamt, thy mother hath had visions,
Cassandra doth foresee, and I myself
Am like a prophet suddenly enrapt
To tell thee that this day is ominous.
Therefore come back.
HECTOR Aeneas is afield,
And I do stand engaged to many Greeks,
Even in the faith of valour, to appear
This morning to them.
PRIAM Ay, but thou shalt not go.
HECTOR ⌈kneeling⌉ I must not break my faith.
You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sire,
Let me not shame respect, but give me leave
To take that course, by your consent and voice,
Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam.
CASSANDRA
O Priam, yield not to him.
ANDROMACHE Do not, dear father.
HECTOR
Andromache, I am offended with you.
Upon the love you bear me, get you in.
Exit Andromache
TROILUS
This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl
Makes all these bodements.
CASSANDRA O farewell, dear Hector.
Look how thou diest; look how thy eye turns pale;
Look how thy wounds do bleed at many vents.
Hark how Troy roars, how Hecuba cries out,
How poor Andromache shrills her dolours forth.
Behold: distraction, frenzy, and amazement
Like witless antics one another meet,
And all cry ‘Hector, Hector’s dead, O Hector!’
TROILUS Away, away!
CASSANDRA
Farewell. Yet soft: Hector, I take my leave.
Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive. Exit
HECTOR (to Priam)
You are amazed, my liege, at her exclaim.
Go in and cheer the town. We’ll forth and fight,
Do deeds of praise, and tell you them at night.
PRIAM
Farewell. The gods with safety stand about thee.
Exeunt Priam and Hector severally. Alarum
TROILUS
They are at it, hark! Proud Diomed, believe
I come to lose my arm or win my sleeve.
Enter Pandarus
PANDARUS Do you hear, my lord, do you hear?
TROILUS What now?
PANDARUS Here’s a letter come from yon poor girl.
TROILUS Let me read.
Troilus reads the letter
PANDARUS A whoreson phthisic, a whoreson rascally phthisic so troubles me, and the foolish fortune of this girl, and what one thing, what another, that I shall leave you one o’ these days. And I have a rheum in mine eyes too, and such an ache in my bones that unless a man were cursed I cannot tell what to think on’t.—What says she there? no
TROILUS (tearing the letter)
Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart.
Th’effect doth operate another way.
Go, wind, to wind: there turn and change together.
My love with words and errors still she feeds,
But edifies another with her deeds.
PANDARUS Why, but hear you—
TROILUS
Hence, broker-lackey! Ignomy and shame
Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name.
Exeunt severally
5.4 Alarum. Enter Thersites ⌈in⌉ excursions
THERSITES Now they are clapper-clawing one another. I’ll go look on. That dissembling abominable varlet Diomed has got that same scurvy doting foolish young knave’s sleeve of Troy there in his helm. I would fain see them meet, that that same young Trojan ass that loves the whore there might send that Greekish whoremasterly villain with the sleeve back to the dissembling luxurious drab of a sleeveless errand. O‘th’ t’other side, the policy of those crafty swearing rascals—that stale old mouse-eaten dry cheese Nestor and that same dog-fox Ulysses—is proved not worth a blackberry. They set me up in policy that mongrel cur Ajax against that dog of as bad a kind Achilles. And now is the cur Ajax prouder than the cur Achilles, and will not arm today—whereupon the Grecians began to proclaim barbarism, and policy grows into an ill opinion.
Enter Diomedes, followed by Troilus
Soft, here comes sleeve and t’other.
TROILUS (to Diomedes)
Fly not, for shouldst thou take the river Styx
I would swim after.
DIOMEDES Thou dost miscall retire.
I do not fly, but advantageous care
Withdrew me from the odds of multitude. Have at
thee!
They fight
THERSITES Hold thy whore, Grecian! Now for thy whore, Trojan! Now the sleeve, now the sleeve!
Exit Diomedes ⌈driving in⌉ Troilus
Enter Hector ⌈behind⌉
HECTOR
What art thou, Greek? Art thou for Hector’s match?
Art thou of blood and honour?
THERSITES No, no, I am a rascal, a scurvy railing knave, a very filthy rogue.
HECTOR I do believe thee: live.
THERSITES God-a-mercy, that thou wilt believe me—
⌈Exit Hector⌉
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
5.5 Enter Diomedes and Servants
DIOMEDES
Go, go, my servant, take thou Troilus’ horse.
Present the fair steed to my Lady Cressid.
Fellow, commend my service to her beauty.
Tell her I have chastised the amorous Trojan,
And am her knight by proof.
SERVANT I go, my lord. Exit
Enter Agamemnon
AGAMEMNON
Renew, renew! The fierce Polydamas
Hath beat down Menon; bastard Margareton
Hath Doreus prisoner,
And stands colossus-wise waving his beam
Upon the pashèd corpses of the kings
Epistropus and Cedius; Polixenes is slain,
Amphimacus and Thoas deadly hurt,
Patroclus ta’en or slain, and Palamedes
Sore hurt and bruised; the dreadful sagittary
Appals our numbers. Haste we, Diomed,
To reinforcement, or we perish all.
Enter Nestor ⌈with Patroclus’ body⌉
NESTOR
Go, bear Patroclus’ body to Achilles,
And bid the snail-paced Ajax arm for shame.
⌈Exit one or more with the body⌉
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 scalèd schools
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 called impossibility.
Enter Ulysses
ULYSSES
O courage, courage, princes! Great Achilles
Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance.
Patroclus’ wounds have roused his drowsy blood,
Together with his mangled Myrmidons,
That noseless, handless, hacked and chipped come to
him
Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend
And foams at mouth, and he is armed and at it,
Roaring for Troitus—who hath done today
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 Ajax
AJAX Troilus, thou coward Troitus! Exit
DIOMEDES Ay, there, there! ⌈Exit⌉
NESTOR So, so, we draw together.
Enter Achilles
ACHILLES Where is this Hector?
Come, come, thou brave boy-queller, show thy face.
Know what it is to meet Achilles angry.
Hector! Where’s Hector? I will none but Hector.
⌈Exeunt⌉
5.6 Enter Ajax
AJAX
Troilus, thou coward Troilus! Show thy head!
Enter Diomedes
DIOMEDES
Troilus, I say! Where’s Troilus?
AJAX What wouldst thou? DIOMEDES I would correct him.
AJAX
Were I the general, thou shouldst have my office
Ere that correction.—Troitus, I say! What, Troilus!
Enter Troilus
TROILUS
O traitor Diomed! Turn thy false face, thou traitor,
And pay the life thou ow’st me for my horse.
DIOMEDES Ha, art thou there?
AJAX
I’ll fight with him alone. Stand, Diomed.
DIOMEDES
He is my prize; I will not look upon.
TROILUS
Come, both you cogging Greeks, have at you both!
They fight.
Enter Hector
HECTOR
Yea, Troilus? O well fought, my youngest brother!
Exit Troilus ⌈driving Diomedes and Ajax in⌉
Enter Achilles ⌈behind⌉
ACHILLES
Now do I see thee.—Ha! Have at thee, Hector.
They fight. ⌈Achilles is bested⌉
HECTOR Pause, if thou wilt.
ACHILLES
I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Trojan.
Be happy that my arms are out of use.
My rest and negligence befriends thee now;
But thou anon shalt here of me again.
Till when, go seek thy fortune. Exit
HECTOR Fare thee well.
I would have been much more a fresher man
Had I expected thee.
Enter Troilus ⌈ain haste⌉
How now, my brother?
TROILUS
Ajax hath ta‘en Aeneas. 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 today. Exit
Enter one in sumptuous armour
HECTOR
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. ⌈Exit one in armour⌉
Wilt thou not, beast, abide?
Why then, fly on; I’ll hunt thee for thy hide. Exit
5.7 Enter Achilles with Myrmidons
ACHILLES
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
5.8 Enter Menelaus and Paris, fighting, ⌈then⌉ Thersites
THERSITES The cuckold and the cuckold-maker are at it.—Now, bull! Now, dog! ‘Loo, Paris, ’loo! Now, my double-horned Spartan! ’Loo, Paris, ’loo! The bull has the game. Ware horns, ho!
Exit Menelaus ⌈driving in⌉ Paris
Enter Bastard ⌈behind⌉
BASTARD Turn, slave, and fight.
THERSITES What art thou?
BASTARD A bastard son of Priam’s.
THERSITES I am a bastard, too. I love bastards. I am 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⌉
BASTARD The devil take thee, coward. Exit
5.9 Enter Hector ⌈dragging⌉ the one in sumptuous armour
HECTOR ⌈taking off the helmet⌉
Most putrefied 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.
He disarms.
Enter Achilles and his Myrmidons, surrounding
Hector
ACHILLES
Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set,
How ugly night comes breathing at his heels.
Even with the veil and dark’ning of the sun
To close the day up, Hector’s life is done.
HECTOR
I am unarmed. Forgo this vantage, Greek.
ACHILLES
Strike, fellows, strike! This is the man I seek.
⌈The Myrmidons⌉ kill Hector
So, Ilium, fall thou. Now, Troy, sink down.
Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone.—
On, Myrmidons, and cry you all amain,
‘Achilles hath the mighty Hector stain!’
A retreat is sounded
Hark, a retire upon our Grecian part.
⌈Another retreat is sounded⌉
A MYRMIDON
The Trojan trumpets sound the like, my lord.
ACHILLES
The dragon wing of night o’erspreads the earth
And, stickler-like, the armies separates.
My half-supped sword, that frankly would have fed,
Pleased with this dainty bait, thus goes to bed.
He sheathes his sword
Come, tie his body to my horse’s tail.
Along the field I will the Trojan trail.
Exeunt, dragging the bodies
5.10 A retreat is sounded. Enter Agamemnon, Ajax, Menelaus, Nestor, Diomedes, and the rest, marching. ⌈A shout within⌉
AGAMEMNON
Hark, hark! What shout is that?
NESTOR Peace, drums.
MYRMIDONS (within) Achilles!
Achilles! Hector’s slain! Achilles!
DIOMEDES
The bruit is: Hector’s slain, and by Achilles.
AJAX
If it be so, yet bragless let it be.
Great Hector was a man as good as he.
AGAMEMNON
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 ⌈marching⌉
5.11 Enter Aeneas, Paris, Antenor, and Deiphobus
AENEAS
Stand, ho! Yet are we masters of the field.
Never go home; here starve we out the night.
Enter Troilus
TROILUS
Hector is slain.
ALL THE OTHERS Hector? The gods forbid.
TROILUS
He’s dead, and at the murderer’s horse’s tail
In beastly sort dragged through the shameful field.
Frown on, you heavens; effect your rage with speed;
Sit, gods, upon your thrones, and smite at Troy.
I say, at once: let your brief plagues be mercy,
And linger not our sure destructions on.
AENEAS
My lord, you do discomfort all the host.
TROILUS
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 called
Go into Troy and say their 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 pitched upon our Phrygian plains,
Let Titan rise as early as he dare,
I’ll through and through you! And thou great-sized
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.
⌈Exeunt marching⌉
ADDITIONAL PASSAGES
A. The Quarto (below) gives a more elaborate version of Thersites’ speech at 5.1.17-21.
THERSITES Why, his masculine whore. Now the rotten diseases of the south, the guts-griping, ruptures, loads o’ gravel in the back, lethargies, cold palsies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten livers, wheezing lungs, bladders full of impostume, sciaticas, lime-kilns i’th’ palm, incurable bone-ache, and the rivelled fee-simple of the tetter, take and take again such preposterous discoveries.
B. The Quarto gives a different ending to the play (which the Folio inadvertently repeats).
Enter Pandarus
PANDARUS But hear you, hear you.
TROILUS
Hence, broker-lackey. ⌈Strikes him⌉ Ignomy and shame
Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name.
Exeunt all but Pandarus
PANDARUS A goodly medicine for my aching bones. O world, world, world!—thus is the poor agent despised. O traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you set a work, and how ill requited! Why should our endeavour be so desired 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 subdued in armèd tail,
Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail.
Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted cloths:
As many as be here of Pandar’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. Exit
SONNETS AND ‘A LOVER’S COMPLAINT’
SHAKESPEARE’S Sonnets were published as a collection by Thomas Thorpe in 1609; the title-page declared that they were ‘never before imprinted’. Versions of two of them– 138 and 144—had appeared in 1599, in The Passionate Pilgrim, a collection ascribed to Shakespeare but including some poems certainly written by other authors; and in the previous year Francis Meres, in Palladis Tamia, had alluded to Shakespeare’s ‘sugared sonnets among his private friends’. The sonnet sequence had enjoyed a brief but intense vogue from the publication of Sir Philip Sidney’s Astrophil and Stella in 1591 till about 1597. Some of Shakespeare’s plays of this period reflect the fashion: in the comedy of Love’s Labour’s Lost the writing of sonnets is seen as a laughable symptom of love, and in the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet both speeches of the Chorus and the lovers’ first conversation are in sonnet form. Later plays use it, too, but it seems likely that most of Shakespeare’s sonnets were first written during this period. But there are indications that some of them were revised; the two printed in The Passionate Pilgrim differ at certain points from Thorpe’s version, and two other sonnets (2 and 106) exist in manuscript versions which also are not identical with those published in the sequence. We print these as ‘Alternative Versions’ of Sonnets 2, 106, 138, and 144.
The order in which Thorpe printed the Sonnets has often been questioned, but is not entirely haphazard: all the first seventeen, and no later ones, exhort a young man to marry; all those clearly addressed to one or more men are among the first 126, and all those clearly addressed to, or concerned with, one or more women (the ‘dark lady’) follow. Some of the sonnets in the second group appear to refer to events that prompted sonnets in the first group; it seems likely that the poems were rearranged after composition. Moreover, the volume contains ‘A Lover’s Complaint’, clearly ascribed to Shakespeare, which stylistic evidence suggests was written in the early seventeenth century and which may have been intended as a companion piece. So, printing the Sonnets in Thorpe’s order, we place them according to the likely date of their revision.
Textual evidence suggests that Thorpe printed from a transcript by someone other than Shakespeare. His volume bears a dedication over his own initials to ‘Mr W.H.’; we do not know whether this derives from the manuscript, and can only speculate about the dedicatee’s identity. His initials are those of Shakespeare’s only known dedicatee, Henry Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton, but in reverse order. We have even less clue as to the identity of the Sonnets’ other personae, who include a rival poet and a dark woman.
Shakespeare’s Sonnets may not be autobiographical, but they are certainly unconventional: the most idealistic poems celebrating love’s mutuality are addressed by one man to another, and the poems clearly addressed to a woman revile her morals, speak ill of her appearance, and explore the poet’s self-disgust at his entanglement with her. The Sonnets include some of the finest love poems in the English language: the sequence itself presents an internal drama of great psychological complexity.
TO.THE. ONLY.BEGETTER.OF.
THESE.ENSUING.SONNETS.
Mr.W.H. ALL.HAPPINESS.
AND.THAT.ETERNITY.
PROMISED.
BY.
OUR.EVER-LIVING.POET.
WISHETH.
THE. WELL-WISHING.
ADVENTURER.IN.
SETTING.
FORTH.
T.T.
