All is silence; then a noise outside. Enter tumultuously a band of Trojan Pickets.
VARIOUS VOICES.
(The dash - in these passages indicates a new speaker.)
On to the Prince's quarters!-Ho!
Who is awake? What man-at-arms,
Or squire or groom?-Let Hector know
New rumour of alarms
From sentinels who stand at mark
The four long watches of the dark,
While others sleep.-Uplift thine head,
O Hector! On thine elbow rise,
Unhood the eagle of thine eyes,
Up from thy leaf-strewn bed!-
Lord Hector!
HECTOR (coming out from the tent).
Who goes there? Who cries?
A friend? The watchword! . . . By what right
Do men come prowling in the night
Across my quarters? Come! Speak out.
LEADER.
A picket, Lord.
HECTOR.
In such a rout?
LEADER.
Be not afraid, Lord.
HECTOR.
I am not.
Is there an ambush? No? Then what,
In God's name, brings you from your post
With no clear tale to speak,
To spread this turmoil through a host
That lies in harness-do ye all
Know nothing?-out against the wall
And gateways of the Greek?