SCENE IX. Another Part of the Field. 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! [Puts off his helmet, and hangs his shield behind him. Enter ACHILLES and Myrmidons. Achil. Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set; Hect. I am unarm'd; forego this 'vantage, Greek. [A Retreat sounded. [1] The vail is, I think, the sinking of the sun; not veil, or cover. JOHNS. [2] This particular of Achilles overpowering Hector by numbers, and without armour, is taken from the old story.book. HANMER. Hector, in Lydgate's poem,falls by the hand of Achilles; but it is Troilus who, having been inclosed round by the Myrmidons, is killed after his ar mour had been hewn from his body, which was afterwards drawn through the field at the horse's tail. The Oxford editor, I believe, was misinformed; for in the old story-book of the Three Destructions of Troy, I find likewise the same account given of the death of Troilus. Heywood, in his Rape of Lucrece, 1638, seems to have been indebted to some such work as Sir T. Hanmer mentions : "Had puissant Hector by Achilles' hand Had been the worthy; but being slain by odds, As faint Achilles, in the Trojan's death." It is not unpleasant to observe with what vehemence Lydgate, who in the grossest manner has violated all the characters drawn by Homer, takes upon him to reprehend the Grecian poet as the original offender: 23 "Oh thou, Homer, for shame be now red, And thee amase that holdest thy selfe so wyse, On Achylles to set suche great a pryse In thy bokes for his chivalrye, Above echone that dost hym magnifye, That was so sleyghty and so full of fraude, Why gevest thou hym so bye a prayse and laude ?" STEEV. VOL. VII. Hark! a retreat upon our Grecian part. Myr. The Trojan trumpets sound the like, my lord. Achil. The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the earth, And, stickler like, the armies separates.2 My half-supp'd sword, that frankly would have fed, 3 [Sheathes his sword. Come, tie his body to my horse's tail; SCENE X. [Exeunt. The same. Enter AGAMEMNON, AJAX, MENELAUS, NESTOR, DIOMEDES, and others, marching. Shouts within. Aga. Hark! hark! what shout is that? Nest. Peace, drums. [Within.] Achilles ! Achilles Hector's slain! Achilles ! Dio. The bruit is-Hector's slain, and by Achilles. Ajax. If it be so, yet bragless let it be ; Great Hector was as good a man as he. Aga. 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. SCENE XI. [Exeunt, marching. Another Part of the Field. Enter ENEAS and Trojans. Ene. Stand, ho! yet are we masters of the field: Never go home; here starve we out the night. Enter TROILUS. Tro. Hector is slain. All. Hector?-The gods forbid ! Tro. He's dead; and at the murderer's horse's tail, [2] Sticklers are arbitrators, judges, or as called in some places, sidesmen. At every wrestling in Cornwall, before the games begin, a certain number of sticklers are chosen, who regulate the proceedings, and determine every dispate. Stickler is immediately from the verb stickle, to interfere, to take part with, to busy one's self in any matter. RITSON. [3] Whatever may have been the remainder of this speech, as it came out of Shakspeare's hands, we may be confident that this bombast stuff made no part of it. Our author's gold was stolen, and the thief's brass left in its place. RITSON. In beastly sort, dragg'd through the shameful field.- Ene. My lord, you do discomfort all the host. Let him, that will a screech-owl aye be call'd, I'll through and through you!-And thou, great-siz'd coward! No space of earth shall sunder our two hates; [Exe. ÆNEAS and Trojans. [4] We should read-smite at, instead of smile. M.MASON. Mr.Upton thinks that Shakspeare had the Psalmist in view. "He that dwelleth in heaven shall laugh them to scorn; the Lord shall have them in derision." Ps. ii.4. "The Lord shall laugh him to scorn; for he hath seen that his day is coming." Ps. xxxvii. 13. In the passage before us, the heavens are the ministers of the gods to execute their vengeance, and they are bid to frown on; but the gods themselves smile at Troy; they hold Troy in derision, for its day is coming." MAL. [5] Pight-pitched, fixed. The obsolete preterite and participle passive of to pitch. STEEV. [6] This couplet affords a full and natural close of the play; and though I once thought differently, I must now declare my firm belief that Shak. speare designed it should end here, and that what follows is either a subsequent and injudicious restoration from an elder drama, or the nonsense of some wretched buffoon, who represented Pandarus. When the hero of the scene was not only alive, but on the stage, our author would scarce have trusted the conclusion of his piece to a subordinate character, whom he had uniformly held up to detestation. It is still less probable that he should have wound up his story with a stupid outrage to decency, and a deliberate insult on bis audience.-But in several other parts of this drama I cannot persuade myself that I have been reading Shakspeare. STEEV. AS TROILUS is going out, enter, from the other side, PANDARUS. Pan. But hear you, hear you! Tro. Hence, broker lackey ! ignomy and shame Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name! [Exit. Pan. A goodly med'cine for my aching bones !-0 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 loved, and the performance so loathed? what verse for it? what instance for it ?-Let me see : Full merrily the humble-bee doth sing, 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 : 8 Till then I'll sweat, and seek about for eases ; And, at that time, bequeath you my diseases. [Exit. STEEV. [7] i.e. the painted canvas with which your rooms are hung. [8] The public stews were anciently under the jurisdiction of the Bishop of Winchester. STEEV. |