The works of John Dryden, now first collected in eighteen volumes. Volume 06Dryden, John
General
The works of John Dryden, now first collected in eighteen volumes. Volume 06
Dryden, John
English literature
_Troil._ You would say,
That I'm the man marked out to be unhappy,
And made the public sacrifice for Troy.
_Hect._ I would say so indeed; for, can you find
A fate more glorious than to be that victim?
If parting from a mistress can procure
A nation's happiness, show me that prince
Who dares to trust his future fame so far,
To stand the shock of annals, blotted thus,--
He sold his country for a woman's love!
_Troil._ O, she's my life, my being, and my soul!
_Hect._ Suppose she were,--which yet I will not grant,--
You ought to give her up.
_Troil._ For whom?
_Hect._ The public.
_Troil._ And what are they, that I should give up her,
To make them happy? Let me tell you, brother,
The public is the lees of vulgar slaves;
Slaves, with the minds of slaves; so born, so bred.
Yet such as these, united in a herd,
Are called, the public! Millions of such cyphers
Make up the public sum. An eagle's life
Is worth a world of crows. Are princes made
For such as these; who, were one soul extracted
From all their beings, could not raise a man?--
_Hect._ And what are we, but for such men as these?
'Tis adoration, some say, makes a god:
And who should pay it, where would be their altars,
Were no inferior creatures here on earth?
Even those, who serve, have their expectancies,
Degrees of happiness, which they must share,
Or they'll refuse to serve us.
_Troil._ Let them have it;
Let them eat, drink, and sleep; the only use
They have of life.
_Hect._ You take all these away,
Unless you give up Cressida.
_Troil._ Forbear:
Let Paris give up Helen; she's the cause,
And root, of all this mischief.
_Hect._ Your own suffrage
Condemns you there: you voted for her stay.
_Troil._ If one must stay, the other shall not go.
_Hect._ She shall not?
_Troil._ Once again I say, she shall not.
_Hect._ Our father has decreed it otherwise.
_Troil._ No matter.
_Hect._ How! no matter, Troilus?
A king, a father's will!
_Troil._ When 'tis unjust.
_Hect._ Come, she shall go.
_Troil._ She shall? then I am dared.
_Hect._ If nothing else will do.
_Troil._ Answer me first,
And then I'll answer that,--be sure I will,--
Whose hand sealed this exchange?
_Hect._ My father's first;
Then all the council's after.
_Troil._ Was yours there?
_Hect._ Mine was there too.
_Troil._ Then you're no more my friend:
And for your sake,--now mark me what I say,--
She shall not go.
_Hect._ Go to; you are a boy.
_Troil._ A boy! I'm glad I am not such a man,
Not such as thou, a traitor to thy brother;
Nay, more, thy friend: But friend's a sacred name,
Which none but brave and honest men should wear:
In thee 'tis vile; 'tis prostitute; 'tis air;
And thus, I puff it from me.
_Hect._ Well, young man,
Since I'm no friend, (and, oh, that e'er I was,
To one so far unworthy!) bring her out;
Or, by our father's soul, of which no part
Did e'er descend to thee, I'll force her hence.
_Troil._ I laugh at thee.
_Hect._ Thou dar'st not.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account