Reference: 3¶1v - Tragedies, p. [26]
[Act 5, Scene 10]
Enter Æneas, Paris,
Anthenor and Deiphœbus.
Æne.
Stand hoe, yet are we masters of the field,
Neuer goe home; here starue we out the night.
Enter Troylus.
Troy.
All.
Troy.
Hee's dead: and at the murtherers Horses taile
In beastly sort, drag'd through the shamefull Field.
Frowne on you heauens, effect your rage with speede:
Sit gods vpon your throanes, and smile at Troy.
I say at once, let your briefe plagues be mercy,
And linger not our sure destructions on.
Æne.
My Lord, you doe discomfort all the Hoste.
Troy
You vnderstand me not, that tell me so:
I doe not speake of flight, of feare, of death,
But dare all imminence that gods and men,
Addresse their dangers in.
Who shall tell
Let him that will a screechoule aye be call'd,
Goe in to Troy, and say there,
There is a word will
Make wels, and
Coole statues of the youth: and in a word,
Scarre Troy out of it selfe. But march away,
Stay yet: you vile abhominable Tents,
Thus proudly pight vpon our Phrygian plaines:
Let Titan rise as early as he dare,
Ile through, and through you; & thou great siz'd coward:
No space of Earth shall sunder our two hates,
Ile haunt thee, like a wicked conscience still,
That mouldeth goblins swift as frensies thoughts.
Strike a free march to Troy, with comfort goe:
Hope of reuenge, shall hide our inward woe.
Enter Pandarus.
Pand.
Troy.
Hence broker, lackie, ignomy, and shame
Pursue thy life, and liue aye with thy name.
Exeunt.
Pan.
Full merrily the humble Bee doth sing,
Till he hath lost his hony, and his sting.
And being once subdu'd in armed taile,
Sweete hony, and sweete notes together faile.
Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted cloathes;
As many as be here of Panders hall,
Your eyes halfe out, weepe out at
Or if you cannot weepe, yet giue some grones;
Though not for me yet for your aking bones:
Brethren and sisters of the hold‑dore trade,
Some two months hence, my will shall here be made:
It should be now, but that my feare is this;
Some galled Goose of Winchester would hisse:
Till then, Ile sweate, and seeke about for eases;
And at that time bequeath yon my diseases.
Exeunt.
Hector is slaine.
[3410]
Hector? the gods forbid.
[3415]
[3420]
Hectoris gone:
Priamso? or
Hecuba?
Hector'sdead:
[3425]
Priamturne to stone;
Niobesof the maides and wiues;
Hectoris dead: there is no more to say.
[3430]
[3435]
But heare you? heare you?
[3440]
A goodly medicine for mine aking bones: oh world,
world, world! thus is the poore agent dispisde: Oh trai
tours and bawdes; how earnestly are you set aworke, and
[3445]
how ill requited? why should our indeuour be so desir'd,
and the performance so loath'd? What Verse for it? What
instance for it? let me see.
[3450]
Pandar'sfall:
[3455]
[3460]
<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<div type="scene" n="10" rend="notPresent">
<head type="supplied">[Act 5, Scene 10]</head>
<stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Æneas, Paris, Anthenor and Deiphœbus.</stage>
<sp who="#F-tro-aen">
<speaker rend="italic">Æne.</speaker>
<l n="3407">Stand hoe, yet are we masters of the field,</l>
<l n="3408">Neuer goe home; here starue we out the night.</l>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Troylus.</stage>
<sp who="#F-tro-tro">
<speaker rend="italic">Troy.</speaker>
<p n="3409">
<hi rend="italic">Hector</hi>is slaine.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-tro-all">
<speaker rend="italic">All.</speaker>
<p n="3410">
<hi rend="italic">Hector</hi>? the gods forbid.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-tro-tro">
<speaker rend="italic">Troy.</speaker>
<l n="3411">Hee's dead: and at the murtherers Horses taile</l>
<l n="3412">In beastly sort, drag'd through the shamefull Field.</l>
<l n="3413">Frowne on you heauens, effect your rage with speede:</l>
<l n="3414">Sit gods vpon your throanes, and smile at Troy.</l>
<l n="3415">I say at once, let your briefe plagues be mercy,</l>
<l n="3416">And linger not our sure destructions on.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-tro-aen">
<speaker rend="italic">Æne.</speaker>
<l n="3417">My Lord, you doe discomfort all the Hoste.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-tro-tro">
<speaker rend="italic">Troy</speaker>
<l n="3418">You vnderstand me not, that tell me so:</l>
<l n="3419">I doe not speake of flight, of feare, of death,</l>
<l n="3420">But dare all imminence that gods and men,</l>
<l n="3421">Addresse their dangers in.<hi rend="italic">Hector</hi>is gone:</l>
<l n="3422">Who shall tell<hi rend="italic">Priam</hi>so? or<hi rend="italic">Hecuba</hi>?</l>
<l n="3423">Let him that will a screechoule aye be call'd,</l>
<l n="3424">Goe in to Troy, and say there,<hi rend="italic">Hector's</hi>dead:</l>
<l n="3425">There is a word will<hi rend="italic">Priam</hi>turne to stone;</l>
<l n="3426">Make wels, and<hi rend="italic">Niobes</hi>of the maides and wiues;</l>
<l n="3427">Coole statues of the youth: and in a word,</l>
<l n="3428">Scarre Troy out of it selfe. But march away,</l>
<l n="3429">
<hi rend="italic">Hector</hi>is dead: there is no more to say.</l>
<cb n="2"/>
<l n="3430">Stay yet: you vile abhominable Tents,</l>
<l n="3431">Thus proudly pight vpon our Phrygian plaines:</l>
<l n="3432">Let Titan rise as early as he dare,</l>
<l n="3433">Ile through, and through you; & thou great siz'd coward:</l>
<l n="3434">No space of Earth shall sunder our two hates,</l>
<l n="3435">Ile haunt thee, like a wicked conscience still,</l>
<l n="3436">That mouldeth goblins swift as frensies thoughts.</l>
<l n="3437">Strike a free march to Troy, with comfort goe:</l>
<l n="3438">Hope of reuenge, shall hide our inward woe.</l>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Pandarus.</stage>
<sp who="#F-tro-pan">
<speaker rend="italic">Pand.</speaker>
<p n="3439">But heare you? heare you?</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-tro-tro">
<speaker rend="italic">Troy.</speaker>
<l n="3440">Hence broker, lackie, ignomy, and shame</l>
<l n="3441">Pursue thy life, and liue aye with thy name.</l>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt.</stage>
<sp who="#F-tro-pan">
<speaker rend="italic">Pan.</speaker>
<p n="3442">A goodly medicine for mine aking bones: oh world,
<lb n="3443"/>world, world! thus is the poore agent dispisde: Oh trai
<lb n="3444"/>tours and bawdes; how earnestly are you set aworke, and
<lb n="3445"/>how ill requited? why should our indeuour be so desir'd,
<lb n="3446"/>and the performance so loath'd? What Verse for it? What
<lb n="3447"/>instance for it? let me see.</p>
<lg>
<l n="3448">Full merrily the humble Bee doth sing,</l>
<l n="3449">Till he hath lost his hony, and his sting.</l>
<l n="3450">And being once subdu'd in armed taile,</l>
<l n="3451">Sweete hony, and sweete notes together faile.</l>
<l n="3452">Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted cloathes;</l>
<l n="3453">As many as be here of Panders hall,</l>
<l n="3454">Your eyes halfe out, weepe out at<hi rend="italic">Pandar's</hi>fall:</l>
<l n="3455">Or if you cannot weepe, yet giue some grones;</l>
<l n="3456">Though not for me yet for your aking bones:</l>
<l n="3457">Brethren and sisters of the hold‑dore trade,</l>
<l n="3458">Some two months hence, my will shall here be made:</l>
<l n="3459">It should be now, but that my feare is this;</l>
<l n="3460">Some galled Goose of Winchester would hisse:</l>
<l n="3461">Till then, Ile sweate, and seeke about for eases;</l>
<l n="3462">And at that time bequeath yon my diseases.</l>
</lg>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt.</stage>
</div>