Enter Neftor. Neft. Go bear Patroclus' body to Achilles, That what he will, he does; and does fo much, Enter Ulyffes. Ulyf. Oh, courage, courage, Princes; great Achillas Is arming, weeping, curfing, vowing vengeance; Patroclus wounds have rowz'd his drowfie blood, Together with his mangled Myrmidons, That nofelefs, handless, hackt and chipt, come to him, Crying on Hector. Ajax has loft 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 fuch a careless force, and forceless care, Bad him win all. Achil. Where is this Hector ? Come, come, thou boy-killer, fhew me thy face: Know, what it is to meet Achilles angry. Hector, where's Hector? I will none but Hector. [Exit. Re Re enter Ajax. Ajax. Troilus, thou coward Troilus, fhew thy head! Dio. Troilus, I fay, where's Troilus? Ajax. What wouldst thou? Dio. I would correct him. Ajax. Were I the General, thou shouldst have my Ere that correction: Troilus, I fay, what! Troilus? Enter Troilus. Troi. Oh, traitor Diomede! turn thy false face, thou traitor, And pay thy life, thou oweft me for my Dio. Ha, art thou there? horse. Ajax. I'll fight with him alone: ftand, Diomede. Troi. Come both, you cogging Greeks, have at you Enter Hector. [Excunt, fighting. Heat. Yea, Troilus? O well fought! my younges brother. Enter Achilles. Achil. Now do I fee thee; have at thee, Hector. Achil. I do difdain thy courtefie, proud Trojan. Be happy that my arms are out of use, Het. Fare thee well; I would have been much more a fresher man, Troi. Ajax hath ta'en Æneas; fhall it be? [Fight. He 1 He fhall not carry him: I'll be taken too, Enter One in armour. [Exit Heat. Stand, ftand, 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 mafter of it; wilt thou not, beaft, abide ?. Why then, fly on, I'll hunt thee for thy hide. Enter Achilles with Myrmidons. Achil. Come here about me, you my Myrmidons. : [Exit. Hector the great muft die. [Exeunt. Enter Therfites, Menelaus and Paris. Ther. The cuckold, and the cuckold-maker are at it now bull, now dog; 'loo, Paris, 'loo; now my double-hen'd fparrow; 'loo, Paris, 'loo; the bull has the game: 'ware horns, ho. [Ex. Paris and Menelaus, Enter Baftard. Baft. Turn, flave, and fight. Ther. What art thou? Baft. A baftard fon of Priam's. Ther. I am a bastard too, I love baftards. I am a baftard begot, bastard inftructed, baftard in mind, baftard in valour, in every thing illegitimate: one Bear will not bite another, and wherefore fhould one bastard? take heed, the quarrel's moft ominous to us: If the fon of a whore fight for a whore, he tempts judgment: farewel, baftard.. Baft. Baft. The devil take thee, coward. Enter Hector. [Ent. Het. Moft putrified core, fo fair without! Enter Achilles and his Myrmidons. Achil. Look, Hector, how the Sun begins to fet; 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. I am unarm'd, forego this vantage, Greek. Achil. Strike, fellows, frike, this is the man I seek. So, Ilion, fall thou next. Now, Troy, fink down : Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain. Hark, a retreat upon our Grecian part. Myr. The Trojan trumpets found the like, my lord. Achil. The dragon wings of night o'erfpreads the earth; And, ftickler-like, the armies feparates. My half fupt fword, that frankly would have fed, 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, Neftor, Diomede, and the reft marching. Aga. Hark, hark, what fhout is that? Neft. Peace, drums. Sol. Achilles! Achilles! Hector's flain! Achilles! Great Hector was as good a man as he. Aga. A March haftily along; let one be sent To pay Achilles fee us at our Tent. Jin his death the Gods have us befriended, Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are ended. [Exe. Enter Æneas, Paris, Antenor and Deiphobus. Ene. Stand, ho! yet are we mafters of the field; Never go home, here starve we out the night. Troi. Hector is flain. All. Hector! Enter Troilus. the Gods forbid ? Troi. He's dead, and at the murtherer's horfe's tail Ene. My lord, you do discomfort all the Hoft. Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian plains ; Let Titan rife as early as he dare, I'll through and through you. And thou, great-fiz'd coward! No space of earth fhall funder our two hates; I'll haunt thee, like a wicked conscience still, That mouldeth Goblins fwift as Frenzy's thoughts. go: Strike a free March to Troy! with comfort Enter |