Imatges de pÓgina
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Patroclus ta’en or slain, and Palamedes
Sore hurt and bruis’d; the dreadful · Sagittary
Appals our numbers: haste we, Diomede,
To reinforcement, or we perish all.

Enter Nestor.
Nest

. Go bear Patroclus' body to Achilles,
And bid the snail'd-pac'd Ajax arm for shame.
There are a thousand Hectors in the field :
Now here he fights on Galathe his horse,
And there lacks work; anon he's there a-foot,
And there they fly or dye, like scaled shoals
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 ev'ry where, he leaves and takes;
Dexterity so obeying appetite,
That what he will, he does; and does so much,
That proof is callid impoffibility.

Enter Ulysses.
Ulys. Oh, courage, courage, princes ; great Achilles
Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance;
Patroclus' wounds have rowz'd his drowsie blood,
Together with his mangled Myrmidons,
That noseless, handless, hackt and chipt, come to him,
Crying on Hector. Ajou 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 thar luck in very spite of cunning
Bad him win all.

SCENE

e Icucer.

SCENE XII.

Enter Ajax. Ajax. Troilus, thou coward Troilus.

(Exit.
Dio. Ay, there, there.
Neft. So, so, we draw together.

[Exeunt.
Enter Achilles.
Achil. Where is this Hector?
Come, come, thou boy-killer, shew me thy face:
Know what it is to meet Achilles angry.
Hector, where's Hector? I will none but Hector. (Exit.

Re-enter Ajax.
Ajax. Troilus, thou coward Troilus, shew thy head.

Re-enter Diomede,
Dio. Troilus, I say, where's Troilus ?
Ajax. What wouldst thou ?
Dio. I would correct him.

Ajax. Were I the general, thou should'st have my office,
Ere that correction: Troilus, I say, what Troilus ?

Enter Troilus.
Troi. Oh traitor Diomede! 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 Diomede.
Dio. He is my prize, I will not look upon.
Troi. Come both you cogging Greeks, have at you both.

(Exeunt fighting.
Enter Hector,
Hect. Yea, Troilus? O well fought! my youngest brother.

Enter Achilles.
Achil. Now do I see thee; have at thee, Hector.
Helt. Pause, if thou wilt.

[Fight.
Achil,

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Achil. I do disdain thy courtesie, 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.

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

Enter Troilus.
Troi. Ajax hath ta’en Æneas; Thall it be?
No, by the flame of yonder glorious heav'n
He shall not carry him: I'll be taken too,
Or bring him off: Fate, hear me what I say;
I freck not, though thou end my life to-day.

[Exit.
Enter one in armour.
Heft. 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,
on, I'll hunt thee for thy hide.

(Exit. 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 your selves in breath; And when I have the bloody Hector found, Empale him with your weapons round about : In fellelt manner execute your arms. Follow me, sirs, and my proceeding eye : It is decreed--- Hector the great must dye.

[Exeunt.

SCENE

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S CE N E XIII.

now

Enter Thersites, Menelaus and Paris. Ther. The cuckold, and the cuckold-maker are at it: bull, now dog ; 'loo, Paris, 'loo; now my double-hend & sparrow; 'loo, Paris, 'loo; the bull has the game: 'ware horns, ho.

(Ex. Paris and Menelaus.

Enter Bastard.
Bast. Turn, slave, and fight.
Ther. What art thou?
Baft. A bastard son of Priamos,

Ther. I am a bastard too, I love bastards. I am a bastard begot, bastard instructed, bastard in mind, bastard in valour, 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: farewel bastard. Baft. The devil take thee coward.

[Exeunt. SCENE XIV.

Enter Hector.

Heft. Most putrified core! so fair without: Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life. Now is my day's work done; I'll take my

breath : Rest sword, thou hast thy fill of blood and death.

Enter Achilles and his Myrmidons. Achil. Look He&tor, now the fun begins to set; How ugly night comes breathing at his heels : Ev’n with the veil and darkning of the sun, To close the day up, Hector's life is done. [They fall upon Hector and kill him.

Hect. 8 Spartan in the old edition,

7

*

Hect. I am unarm’d, forego this vantage, Greek.

Achil. Strike, fellows, strike, this is the man I seek.
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 harb the mighty Hector slain.

[Exeunt. 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 separate;
Come, tye his body to my horse's tail:
Along the field I will the Trojan trail.

(Exeunt.

[Sound retreat. Shout. Enter Agamemnon, Ajax, Menelaus, Nestor, Diomede,

and the rest, marching.
Aga. Hark, hark, what shout is that?
Nest. Peace, drums.
Sol. Achilles ! Achilles ! Hector's slain! Achilles !
Dio. The bruit is, Hector's slain, and by Achilles.

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

Aga. 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.

SN E N E XV.

Enter Æneas, Paris, Antenor and Deiphobus. Æne. Stand ho, yet are we masters of the field, Never go home, here starve we out the night.

Enter

-the armies separate;
My half-supt sword, that frankly would have fed,
Pleas'd with this dainty bit, thus goes to bed.
Come, tye &c.

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