Original Text | Modern Text | |
| 405 415 420 425 |
I remember, one said there were no sallets in the
lines to make the matter savory, nor no matter in the phrase
that might indict the author of affectation, but called it an
honest method, as wholesome as sweet, and by very much
more handsome than fine. One speech in it I chiefly loved.
'Twas Aeneas' tale to Dido and thereabout of
it, especially
where he speaks of Priam’s slaughter. If it live in
your
>memory, begin at this line—Let me see, let me
see—
The rugged Pyrrhus, like th'
Hyrcanian beast—
It is not so. It begins with
Pyrrhus—
The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose sable
arms,
Black as his purpose, did the night
resemble
When he lay couchèd in the
ominous horse,
Hath now this dread and black complexion
smeared
With heraldry more dismal. Head to
foot
Now is he total gules, horridly
tricked
With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters,
sons,
Baked and impasted with the parching
streets,
That lend a tyrannous and damnèd
light
To their lord’s murder. Roasted
in wrath and fire,
And thus o'ersizèd
with coagulate gore,
With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish
Pyrrhus
Old grandsire Priam seeks.
So, proceed you.
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I remember one critic said there was no
vulgar language to spice up the dialogue, and showing off on
playwright’s part. That critic called it an excellent
play, containing things to reflect upon as well as sweet music to
enjoy. I loved one speech in particular. It was when
Aeneas told Dido about Priam’sDido, Priam, and Aeneas are characters in the Roman poet’s epic called The Aeneid, which produced the dramatic spin-off Hamlet is referring to here. Aeneas told Dido about Priam’s murder. If you happen to remember this scene, begin at line—let me see, how does it go? The rugged
PyrrhusPyrrhus, the son of the Greek hero Achilles, came to Troy at the end of the Trojan War to avenge his father’s death by killing Priam, king of Troy. Pyrrhus hid inside the Trojan Horse with the other Greek heroes. Pyrrhus, strong as a tiger—No, that’s wrong; it begins like this:
Savage Pyrrhus, whose black
armor was
As dark plans, and was like the
night
When he crouched inside the
Trojan Horse,
Has now smeared his dark
armor
With something worse. From head
to foot
He’s now covered in
red, decorated horribly
With the blood of fathers,
mothers, daughters, sons.
The blood is baked to a paste
by fires he set in the streets,
Fires that lend a terrible
light to his horrible murders.
Boiling with anger and
fire,
And coated thick with
hard-baked blood,
His eyes glowing like rubies,
the hellish Pyrrhus
Goes looking for grandfather
Priam.
Sir, take it from there.
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POLONIUS
'Fore God, my lord, well spoken, with good accent and
good discretion.
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POLONIUS
My God, that was well done, my lord, with the right accent and a
good ear.
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435 440 |
FIRST PLAYER
Anon he finds him
Striking too short at Greeks. His antique
sword,
Rebellious to his arm, lies where it
falls,
Repugnant to command. Unequal
matched,
Pyrrhus at Priam drives, in rage strikes
wide,
But with the whiff and wind of his fell
sword
The unnerved father falls. Then senseless
Ilium,
Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming
top
Stoops to his base, and with a hideous
crash
Takes prisoner Pyrrhus' ear.
For, lo, his sword,
Which was declining on the milky head
Of reverend Priam, seemed i'
th' air to stick.
So as a painted tyrant Pyrrhus
stood,
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FIRST PLAYER
Soon he finds Priam
Failing in his battle against the Greeks.
His old sword,
Which Priam cannot wield anymore, lies
where it fell.
An unfair opponent,
Pyrrhus rushes at Priam, and in his rage he
misses;
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