The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (1114 page)

MARGARELON.

Turn, slave, and fight.

Turn and fight, you slave.

THERSITES.

What art thou?

Who are you?

MARGARELON.

A bastard son of Priam's.

A bastard son of Priam's.

THERSITES.

I am a bastard too; I love bastards. I am a 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

judgment. Farewell, bastard.

Exit

I am a bastard too; I love bastards.I was fathered by a bastard,

taught by a bastard, I'm a bastard in mind, a bastard in courage,

illegitimate in everything.One bear won't attack another, so

why would a bastard?Look out, this fight would be very

terrible for us:if the son of a whore fights on behalf of a whore,

he's risking heaven's anger.Farewell, bastard.

MARGARELON.

The devil take thee, coward!

Exit

Damn you, coward!

Enter HECTOR

HECTOR.

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!

[Disarms]

Rotten insides, so fair outside,

your fine armour has cost your life.

Now my day's work is done; I'll catch my breath:

rest, sword; you've had enough blood and death!

Enter ACHILLES and his Myrmidons

ACHILLES.

Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set;

How ugly night comes breathing at his heels;

Even with the vail and dark'ning of the sun,

To close the day up, Hector's life is done.

See, Hector, how the sun begins to set;

how ugly night comes creeping in on his heels;

as the darkness starts to cover the sun,

to finish the day, Hector's life is finished.

HECTOR.

I am unarm'd; forego this vantage, Greek.

I am unarmed; don't take advantage, Greek.

ACHILLES.

Strike, fellows, strike; this is the man I seek.

[HECTOR falls]

So, Ilion, fall thou next! Come, Troy, sink down;

Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone.

On, Myrmidons, and cry you an amain

'Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.'

[A retreat sounded]

Hark! a retire upon our Grecian part.

Strike, you men, strike; this is the man I was looking for.

[Hector falls]

So, Ilium, you fall next!Come, Troy, sink down;

here is your heart, your muscles and your bones.

Go on, you Myrmidons, and cry across the field,

'Achilles has killed mighty Hector!'

[A retreat sounds]

Listen!Our Greeks are retiring.

MYRMIDON.

The Troyan trumpets sound the like, my lord.

The Trojans are sounding the same call, my lord.

ACHILLES.

The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the earth

And, stickler-like, the armies separates.

My half-supp'd sword, that frankly would have fed,

Pleas'd with this dainty bait, thus goes to bed.

[Sheathes his sword]

Come, tie his body to my horse's tail;

Along the field I will the Troyan trail.

Exeunt

The dragon's wing of night spreads over the earth

and separates the armies like an umpire.

My half-fed sword, that could have eaten more,

is pleased with this dainty treat, and so goes to bed.

[Sheathes his sword]

Come, tie his body to my horse's tail;

I'll drag this Trojan around the battlefield.

Sound retreat. Shout. Enter AGAMEMNON, AJAX, MENELAUS, NESTOR,

DIOMEDES, and the rest, marching

AGAMEMNON.

Hark! hark! what shout is this?

Listen!Listen!What is this shouting?

NESTOR.

Peace, drums!

Stop the drums!

SOLDIERS.

[Within] Achilles! Achilles! Hector's slain. Achilles!

Achilles!Achilles!Hector's killed.Achilles!

DIOMEDES.

The bruit is Hector's slain, and by Achilles.

The rumour is that Hector has been killed, by Achilles.

AJAX.

If it be so, yet bragless let it be;

Great Hector was as good a man as he.

If it's true, there should be no bragging about it;

Great Hector was just as good a man as him.

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

March along quietly.Let someone go

and ask Achilles to come to our tent.

If the gods have favoured us with his death,

we have won great Troy, and these fierce wars are over.

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.

Wait, there!We are still masters of the field.

Don't go home; we shall spend the night out here.

Enter TROILUS

TROILUS.

Hector is slain.

Hector has been killed.

ALL.

Hector! The gods forbid!

Hector!Heaven forbid!

TROILUS.

He's dead, and at the murderer's horse's tail,

In beastly sort, dragg'd 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.

He's dead, and he has been dragged across the horrible

field in a foul way at the tail of the murderer's horse.

Frown on it, gods, and take quick revenge.

Sit on your thrones, and attack Troy.

I say attack us with a quick plague,

don't make us wait for our inevitable deaths.

AENEAS.

My lord, you do discomfort all the host.

My lord, you're unsettling the whole army.

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 call'd

Go in to Troy, and say there '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 pight upon our Phrygian plains,

Let Titan rise as early as he dare,

I'll through and through you. And, thou great-siz'd 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.

If you tell me that you don't understand me.

I'm not talking about running away, or being scared of death,

but I'm daring to face all the impending dangers

that gods or men can give me.Hector is dead.

Who's going to tell Priam, or Hecuba?

Let the person who wants to be called a bad omen forever

go in to Troy, and tell them, 'Hector's dead.'

That is a word which will turn Priam to stone;

it will make springs and fountains of the girls and wives,

turn all the youths into statues; in a word,

it will scare Troy to death.But, march away;

Hector is dead; there is no more to say.

Wait.You revolting tents,

so arrogantly pitched on our Phyrigian plains,

as soon as the sun rises

I'll charge through the lot of you.And you, huge coward,

there is no space on earth wide enough to divide our mutual hatred;