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
_Thers._ Good, good, by Pluto! their fool's mad, to lose his harlot;
and our fool's mad, that t'other fool had her first. If I sought peace
now, I could tell 'em there's punk enough to satisfy 'em both: whore
sufficient! but let 'em worry one another, the foolish curs; they
think they never can have enough of carrion.
_AEn._ My lords, this fury is not proper here
In time of truce; if either side be injured,
To-morrow's sun will rise apace, and then--
_Troil._ And then! but why should I defer till then?
My blood calls now, there is no truce for traitors;
My vengeance rolls within my breast; it must,
It will have vent,-- [_Draws._
_Diom._ Hinder us not, AEneas,
My blood rides high as his; I trust thy honour,
And know thou art too brave a foe to break it.-- [_Draws._
_Thers._ Now, moon! now shine, sweet moon! let them have just light
enough to make their passes; and not enough to ward them.
_AEn._ [_Drawing too._]
By heaven, he comes on this, who strikes the first.
You both are mad; is this like gallant men,
To fight at midnight; at the murderer's hour;
When only guilt and rapine draw a sword?
Let night enjoy her dues of soft repose;
But let the sun behold the brave man's courage.
And this I dare engage for Diomede,--
For though I am,--he shall not hide his head,
But meet you in the very face of danger.
_Diom._ [_Putting up._]
Be't so; and were it on some precipice,
High as Olympus, and a sea beneath,
Call when thou dar'st, just on the sharpest point
I'll meet, and tumble with thee to destruction.
_Troil._ A gnawing conscience haunts not guilty men,
As I'll haunt thee, to summon thee to this;
Nay, shouldst thou take the Stygian lake for refuge,
I'll plunge in after, through the boiling flames,
To push thee hissing down the vast abyss.
_Diom._ Where shall we meet?
_Troil._ Before the tent of Calchas.
Thither, through all your troops, I'll fight my way;
And in the sight of perjured Cressida,
Give death to her through thee.
_Diom._ 'Tis largely promised;
But I disdain to answer with a boast.
Be sure thou shalt be met.
_Troil._ And thou be found. [_Exeunt_ TROILUS _and_ AENEAS _one way;_
DIOMEDE _the other._
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