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Dio. Troilus, I say! where's Troilus ?

What wouldst thou ?
Dio. I would correct him.
Ajax. Were I the general, thou shouldst have

my office Ere that correction.—Troilus, I say! what, Troilus !


Tro. O, traitor Diomed !-turn thy false face, thou

traitor, And pay thy life thou owest me for my horse !

. Dio. Ha! art thou there? Ajax. I'll fight with him alone ; stand, Diomed. Dio. He is my prize; I will not look upon.? Tro. Come both, you cogging ? Greeks; have at

[Exeunt, fighting

you both.

Enter HECTOR. Hect. Yea, Troilus! O, well fought, my youngest



Achil. Now do I see thee; ha!-Have at thee,

Hect. Pause, if thou wilt.

Achil. I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Trojan ;
Be happy, that my arms are out of use.
My rest and negligence befriend thee now,
But thou anon shalt hear of me again;
Till when, go seek thy fortune.

[Exit. Hect.

Fare thee well :
I would have been much more a fresher man,
Had I expected thee.—How now, my brother?

i That is, I will not be a looker-on.
? Cheating ; Cicero bears witness to this character of the ancient Greeks.

Re-enter TROILUS.
Tro. Ajax hath ta'en Æneas; shall it be ?
No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven,
He shall not carry him;? I'll be taken too,
Or bring him off.-Fate, hear me what I say!
I reck not though I end my life to-day.


Enter one in sumptuous armor. Hect. Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou art a goodly

mark: No ? wilt thou not ?- I like thy armor well; I'll frush ” it, and unlock the rivets all,

2 But I'll be master of it.-Wilt thou not, beast, abide ? Why then, fly on; I'll hunt thee for thy hide. [Exeunt.

SCENE VII. The same.

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Enter Achilles, with Myrmidons. Achil. Come here about me, you my myrmidons ; Mark what I say.—Attend me where I wheel ; Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath; And when I have the bloody Hector found, Empale him with your weapons round about; In fellest manner execute your arms. Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye! It is decreed—Hector the great must die. [Exeunt.


SCENE VIII. The same.

Enter Menelaus and Paris, fighting; then THERSITES.

Ther. The cuckold and the cuckold-maker are at it. Now, bull! now, dog! 'Loo, Paris, 'loo ! now my

1 i. e. prevail over him.
2 To frush is to break or bruise (froisser, Fr.)

3 To erecute their arms is to employ them.


double-henned sparrow! 'loo, Paris, loo! The bull has the game :-'ware horns, ho!

[Exeunt Paris and MENELAUS.



Mar. Turn, slave, and fight.
Ther. What art thou ?
Mar. A bastard son of Priam's.

Ther. I am a bastard too; I love bastards ; ' I am a bastard begot, bastard instructed, bastard in mind, bastard in valor, in every thing 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.

Mar. The devil take thee, coward ! [Exeunt.

SCENE IX. Another Part of the Field.


Enter HECTOR. Hect. Most putrified core, so fair without, Thy goodly armor 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! [Puts off his helmet, and hangs his shield

behind him.

Enter Achilles and Myrmidons. Achil. Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set; How ugly night comes breathing at his heels. Even with the vail ? and darkening of the sun, To close the day up, Hector's life is done.

Hect. I am unarmed: forego this vantage, Greek.


1 Bastard, in ancient times, was not a disreputable appellation. 2 « The vail of the sun," is the sinking, setting, or vailing of the sun.

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

[Hector falls. So, Ilion, fall thou next! now, Troy, sink down! Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone. On, myrmidons ; and cry you all amain, Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.

[A retreat sounded. Hark! a retreat upon our Grecian part.

Myr. The Trojan trumpets sound the like, my lord. Achil. The dragon wing of night o’erspreads the

earth, And, stickler ? like, the armies separates. My half-supped sword, that frankly would have fed, Pleased with this dainty bit, thus goes to bed.

[Sheathes his sword. Come, tie his body to my horse's tail; Along the field I will the Trojan trail. [Exeunt.


SCENE X. The same.


MEDES, and others, marching. Shouts within.
Agam. Hark! hark! what shout is that?

Peace, drums. [Within.]

Achilles ! Achilles! Hector's slain! Achilles !

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

Ajax. If it be so, yet bragless let it be; Great Hector was as good a man as he.

1 Heywood, in his Rape of Lucrece, 1638, gives the same account of Achilles overpowering Hector by numbers. In Lydgate and the old story book, the same account is given of the death of Troilus. Lydgate, following Guido of Colonna, who in the grossest manner has violated all the characters drawn by Homer, reprehends the Grecian poet as the original offender.

2 Sticklers were persons who attended upon combatants in trials of skill, to part them when they had fought enough, and, doubtless, to see fair play. They were probably so called from the stick or wand which they carried in their hands. The name is still given to the arbitrators at wrestlingmatches in the west country.

Agam. 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, marching.

SCENE XI. Another Part of the Field.

Enter Æneas and Trojans. Æne. Stand, ho! yet are we masters of the field. Never go home; here starve we out the night.


Tro. Hector is slain.

Hector ?—The gods forbid !
Tro. He's dead; and at the murderer's horse's tail,
In beastly sort, dragged through the shameful field.-
Frown on, you heavens; effect your rage with speed !
Sit, gods, upon your thrones, and smile at Troy !
I say, at once let your brief plagues be mercy,
And iinger not our sure destructions on !

Æne. My lord, you do discomfort all the host.

Tro. 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 called,
Go into 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.

1 Hanmer and Warburton read :

smite at Troy."

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