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Tell her, I have chastis'd the amorous Trojan,
And am her knight by proof.


I go, my lord.
[Exit Servant.


Agam. Renew, renew! The fierce Polydamus Hath beat down Menon: bastard Margarelon 16 Hath Doreus prisoner;


And stands colossus-wise, waving his beam,
Upon the pashed corses of the kings
Epistrophus and Cedius: Polixenes is slain;
Amphimachus, and Thoas, deadly hurt;
Patroclus ta'en, or slain; and Palamedes
Sore hurt and bruis'd: the dreadful Sagittary
Appals our numbers; haste we, Diomed,
To reinforcement, or we perish all.


Nest. Go, bear Patroclus' body to Achilles; And bid the snail-pac'd Ajax arm for shame.There is a thousand Hectors in the field: Now here he fights on Galathe" his horse, And there lacks work; anon, he's there afoot, And there they fly, or die, like scaled sculls Before the belching whale; then is he yonder, And there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge, Fall down before him, like the mower's swath: Here, there, and every where, he leaves, and takes; Dexterity so obeying appetite,

That what he will, he does; and does so much,
That proof is call'd impossibility.

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Ulyss. O, courage, courage, princes! great Achilles Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance: Patroclus' wounds have rous'd his drowsy blood, Together with his mangled Myrmidons, That noseless, handless, hack'd and chipp'd, come to


Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend,

And foams at mouth, and he is arm'd, and at it,
Roaring for Troilus; who hath done to-day
Mad and fantastick execution;
Engaging and redeeming of himself,
With such a careless force, and forceless care,'
As if that luck, in very spite of cunning,
Bade him win all.

Enter AJAX.

Ajax. Troilus! thou coward Troilus!

Nest. So, so, we draw together.


[Exit. Ay, there, there.

Where is this Hector?

Come, come, thou boy-queller, show thy face;
Know what it is to meet Achilles angry.
Hector! where's Hector? I will none but Hector.


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Another Part of the Field.

Enter AJAX.

Ajar. Troilus, thou coward Troilus, show thy head!


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


Dio. I would correct him.

What would'st thou?

Ajax. Were I the general, thou should'st have my office,

Ere that correction:-Troilus, I say! what, Troilus! Enter TROILUS.

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

And pay thy life thou ow'st 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 you
[Exeunt, fighting.



Hect. Yea, Troilus? O, well fought, my youngest brother!


Achil. Now do I see thee: Ha!-Have at thee, Hector.

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.


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

Hect. Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou art a goodly mark:

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

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



The Same.

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.


The Same.

Enter MENELAUS and PARIS, fighting; then


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




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