Puslapio vaizdai
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Hector, where's Hector? I will none but Hector. [Exit. Re-enter Ajax.

Ajax. Troilus, thou' coward Troilus, fhew thy head!

Re-enter Diomedes.

Dio. Troilus, I fay, where's Troilus?
Ajax. What wouldst thou?

Dio. I would correct him.

Ajax. Were I the general, thou fhouldft have my office, Ere that correction: Troilus, I fay, what! Troilus?

Enter Troilus.

Troi. Oh, traitor Diomede! turn thy falfe face, thou traitor,

And pay thy life, thou oweft me for my horse.

Dio. Ha, art thou there?

Ajax. I'll fight with him alone: ftand, 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 fee thee; have at thee, Hector.
Hect. Paufe, if thou wilt.

Achil. I do difdain thy courtefy, proud Trojan,

Be happy that my arms are out of ufe,
My reft and negligence befriend thee now..
But thou anon fhalt 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?

Enter Troilus.

Troi. Ajax hath ta'en Æneas; fhall it be? No, by the flame of yonder glorious heav'n,

[Fight

He

He shall not carry him: I'll be taken too,
Or bring him off: Fate, hear me what I fay;
I reck not, though thou end my life to-day.

Enter one in armour.

[Exit.

Hect. 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, beast, abide ? Why then, fly on, I'll hunt thee for thy hide.

Enter Achilles with Myrmidons.

[Exit.

Achil. Come here about me, you my Myrmidons.
Mark what I fay, attend me where I wheel;
Strike not a ftroke, but keep yourselves in breath;
And when I have the bloody Hector found,
Empale him with your weapons round about:
In felleft manner execute your arms.
Follow me, Sirs, and my proceeding eye:
It is decreed- -Hector the great must die.

Enter Therfites, Menelaus and Paris.

Ther. The cuckold, and the cuckold-maker are at it : now bull, now dog; 'loo, Paris, 'loo; now my doublehen'd fparrow; 'loo, Paris, 'loo; the bull has the game; 'ware horns, ho. [Exe. 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 baftard too, I love baftards. I am a baftard begot, baftard inftructed, baftard 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 moft ominous to us: If the fon of a whore fight for a whore, he tempts judgment: farewel, baftard.

Bost

Baft. The devil take thee, coward.

Enter Hector.

[Exeunt,

I

G

Het. Moft putrified core, fo fair without!
Thy goodly armour thus hath coft thy life.

Now is my day's work done; I'll take my breath :
Reft, fword, thou haft thy fill of blood and death.

Enter Achilles and his Myrmidons.

Achil. Look, Hector, how the fun begins to fet;
How ugly night comes breathing at his heels:
Ev'n with the veil and darkning of the fun,
To close the day up, Hector's life is done.

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[They fall upon Hector, and kill him.
Heat. I am unarm'd, forego this vantage, Greek.
Achil. Strike, fellows, ftrike, this is the man I feek.
So, Ilion, fall thou next. Now, Troy, fink down:
Here lies thy heart, thy finews and thy bone.
On, Myrmidons, and cry you all amain,
Achilles hath the mighty Hector flain.

Hark, a retreat upon our Grecian part.

Myr. The Trojan trumpets found the like, my Lord.
Achil. The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the earth;

And, ftickler-like, the armies feparates.

My half-fupt fword, that frankly would have fed,
Pleas'd with this dainty bit, thus goes to bed.
Come, tie his body to my horfe's tail :

Along the field I will the Trajan trail.

[Exeunt.

[Sound retreat.

Shout.

Enter Agamemnon, Ajax, Menelaus, Neftor, Diomedes,

and the rest marching.

Aga. Hark, hark, what fhout is that?

Neft. Peace, drums.

Sol. Achilles! Achilles! Hector's flain! Achilles!
Dio. The bruit is, Hector's flain, and by Achilles.
Ajax. If it is fo, yet braglefs let it be:

Great Hector was as good a man as he.

Aga.

Aga. March haftily along; let one be sent To pray Achilles fee us at our tent.

If in his death the Gods have us befriended,

Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are ended. [Exe. Enter Eneas, Paris, Antenor and Deiphobus.

Ene. Stand, ho! yet are we masters of the field; Never go home, here ftarve we out the night.

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Troi. He's dead, and at the murderer's horfe's tail
In beaftly fort dragg'd through the fhameful field.
Frown on, you heav'ns, effect your rage with speed;
Sit, Gods, upon your thrones, and fmile at Troy !
I fay, at once, let your brief plagues be mercy,
And linger not our fure deftructions on.

Ene. My Lord, you do discomfort all the hoft.
Troi. You understand me not, that tell me fo :
I do not speak of flight, of fear, of death,
But dare all imminence, that Gods and men
Addrefs their dangers in. Hector is gone!
Who fhall tell Priam fo? or Hecuba?

Let him, that will a fcrietch-owl ay be call'd,
Go into Troy, and fay there, Hector's dead:
That is a word will Priam turn to ftone;
Make wells and Niobes of the maids and wives;
Cold ftatues of the youth; and, in a word,
Scare Troy out of itself. But march away,
Hector is dead: there is no more to say.
Stay yet, you vile abominable tents,
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 fpace of earth fhall funder our two hates ;
I'll haunt thee, like a wicked confcience ftill,
That mouldeth goblins fwift as frenzy's thoughts.
Strike a free march to Troy! with comfort go:
Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe.

Enter

Enter Pandarus.

Pan. But hear you, hear you?

Troi. Hence, brothel-lacquey; ignominy, fhame

[Strikes him. Purfue thy life, and live ay with thy name! [Exeunt. Pan. A goodly med'cine for my aking bones! Oh world! world! world! thus is the poor agent defpis'd: Oh, traitors and bawds, how carneftly are you fet at work, and how ill requited? why should our endeavour be fo lov'd, and the performance fo loath'd? what verse for it? what inftance for it ? -let me feeFull merrily the humble-bee doth fing, "Till he hath loft his honey and his fting; But being once fubdu'd in armed tail, Sweet honey and fweet notes together fail.

Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted cloths-
As many as be here of Pandar's hall,

Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar's fall;
Or if you cannot weep, yet give fome groans,
Though not for me, yet for your aking bones.
Brethren and fifters of the hold-door trade,

Some two months hence my will shall here be made :
It should be now; but that my fear is this,
Some galled goofe of Winchester would hifs:

Till then, I'll fweat, and feek about for eases;
And at that time bequeath you my diseases.

[Exit.

The End of the Seventh Volume.

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