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Go, wind, to wind, there turn and change to-1 Appals our numbers; haste we, Diomed,
To reinforcement, or we perish all.

gether.

Enter Nestor.

My love with words and errors still she feeds; But edifies another with her deeds. [Exe. severally. Nest. Go, bear Patroclus' body to Achilles; SCENE IV.-Between Troy and the Grecian And bid the snail-pac'd Ajax arm for shame.camp. Alarums: Excursions. Enter Thersites. There is a thousand Hectors in the field: Ther. Now they are clapper-clawing one another; Now here he fights on Galathe his horse, I'll go look on. That dissembling abominable var- And there lacks work; anon, he's there afoot, let, Diomed, has got that same scurvy doating fool- And there they fly, or die, like scaled sculls ish young knave's sleeve of Troy there, in his helm: Before the belching whale; then is he yonder, I would fain see them meet; that that same young And there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge, Trojan ass, that loves the whore there, might send Fall down before him, like the mower's swath: that Greekish whoremaster villain, with the sleeve, Here, there, and every where, he leaves, and takes, back to the dissembling luxurious drab, on a sleeve- Dexterity so obeying appetite,

less errand. O'the other side, The policy of those That what he will, he does; and does so much, crafty swearing rascals,-that stale old mouse-eaten That proof is call'd impossibility.

Enter Ulysses.

Ulyss. O courage, courage, princes! great
Achilles

dry cheese, Nestor; and that same dog-fox, Ulysses, is not proved worth a blackberry:-They set me up, in policy, that mongrel cur, Ajax, against that dog of as bad a kind, Achilles: and now is the cur Ajax prouder than the cur Achilles, and Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance: will not arm to-day: whereupon the Grecians begin Patroclus' wounds have rous'd his drowsy blood, to proclaim barbarism, and policy grows into an ill Together with his mangled Myrmidons, opinion. Soft! here come sleeve, and t'other.

Enter Diomedes, Troilus following.
Tro. Fly not; for, should'st thou take the river
Styx,

I would swim after.

Dio.

Thou dost miscall retire:
I do not fly; but advantageous care
Withdrew me from the odds of multitude:
Have at thee!

Ther. Hold thy whore, Grecian!-now for thy
whore, Trojan!-now the sleeve, now the sleeve!
[Exeunt Troilus and Diomedes, fighting.
Enter Hector.

Hec. What art thou, Greek? art thou for Hector's match?

Art thou of blood, and honour?

Ther. No, no:-I am rascal; a scurvy railing knave; a very filthy rogue.

[Exit.

Hect. I do believe thee;-live.
Ther. God-a-mercy, that thou wilt believe me;
But a plague break thy neck, for frighting me!
What's become of the wenching rogues? I think,
they have swallowed one another: I would laugh
at that miracle. Yet, in a sort, lechery eats itself.
I'll seek them.
[Exit.

SCENE V.-The same. Enter Diomedes and a
Servant.

Dio. Go, go, my servant, take thou Troilus' horse;
Present the fair steed to my lady Cressid:
Fellow, commend my service to her beauty;
Tell her, I have chastis'd the amorous Trojan,
And am her knight by proof.

Serv.

I go, my lord.

Enter Agamemnon.

[Exit Servant.

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

And stands colussus-wise, waving his beam,1
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 bruised: the dreadful Sagittary
(2) Bruised, crushed.
(4) Killer.

(1) Lance.
(3) Shoal of fish.

VOL. II,

That noseless, handless, hack'd and chipp'd, come
to him,

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 fantastic 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.

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Achil.
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.
[Exeunt.

SCENE VI.-Another part of the field. Enter
Ajax.

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

Enter Diomedes.
Dio. Troilus, I say! where's Troilus!
Ajax.
What would'st 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.

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 both.
[Exeunt, fighting.

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Enter Achilles.

Enter Achilles and Myrmidons.

Achil. Now do I see thee: Ha!-Have at thee, Achil. Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set;

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How ugly night comes breathing at his heels:
Even with the veil and dark'ning of the sun,
To close the day up, Hector's life is done.
Hect. I am unarm'd: forego this vantage,' Greek.
Achil. Strike, fellows, strike; this is the man I
[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.

seek.

[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 separate. My half-supp'd sword, that frankly' would have fed, Pleas'd with this dainty bit, thus goes to bed. [Sheaths his sword. Come, tie his body to my horse's tail; Along the field I will the Trojan trail. SCENE X.-The same. Ajax, Menelaus, Nestor, Diomedes, and others, marching. Shouts within.

[Exeunt. Enter Agamemnon,

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SCENE VIII.-The same. Enter Menelaus SCENE XI.-Another part of the field. Enter

and Paris, fighting: then Thersites. Ther. The cuckold and the cuckold-maker are at it: Now, bull! now, dog! 'Loo, Paris, 'loo! now my double-henned sparrow! 'Loo, Paris, 'loo! The bull has the game :-'ware horns, ho! [Exeunt Paris and Menelaus. Enter Margarelon.

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 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: Farewell, bastard. Mar. The devil take thee, coward! [Exeunt.

Eneas and Trojans.

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

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

I

I

Ene. My lord, you do discomfort all the host. Tro. You understand me not, that tell me so: 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?

SCENE IX. Another part of the field. Enter Let him, that will a screech-owl aye' be call'd,

Hector.

Hect. Most putrified core, so fair without, Thy goodly armour 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.

(1) Prevail over. (2) Care. (3) Burst. (4) Employ. (5) Take not this advantage. (6) An arbitrator at athletic games,

Go in to 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.
Stay yet;-You vile abominable tents,
Thus proudly pight10 upon our Phrygian plains,

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Let Titan rise as early as he dare,

As many as be here of panders' hall,

I'll through and through you!--And thou, great-Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar's fall:

siz'd coward!

No space of earth shall sunder our two hates;
I'll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still,
That mouldeth goblins swift as frenzy thoughts.
Strike a free march to Troy!-with comfort go:
Hope of revenge shall hide our inward wo.
[Exeunt Æneas and Trojans.

As Troilus is going out, enter from the other side,
Pandarus.

Pan. But hear you, hear you!

Tro. Hence, broker lackey! ignomy' and shame Pursue thy life, and live aye3 with thy name!

[Exit Troilus.

Or, if you cannot weep, yet give some groans,
Though not for me, yet for your aching bones.
Brethren, and sisters, 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 goose of Winchester would hiss:
Till then I'll sweat, and seek about for eases;
And, at that time, bequeath you my diseases.

[Exit.

This play is more correctly written than most of Pan. A goodly med'cine for my aching bones!-Shakspeare's compositions, but it is not one of those O world! world! world! thus is the poor agent in which either the extent of his views or elevation despised! O traitors and bawds, how earnestly are of his fancy is fully displayed. As the story aboundyou set a' work, and how ill requited! Why should ed with materials, he has exerted little invention; our endeavour be so loved, and the performance so but he has diversified his characters with great loathed? what verse for it? what instance for it?-variety, and preserved them with great exactness. Let me see :

Full merrily the humble-bee doth sing,
Till he hath lost his honey, and his sting:
And being once subdued in armed tail,
Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail.-
Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted
cloths.3

(2) Ever.

His vicious characters disgust, but cannot corrupt, for both Cressida and Pandarus are detested and contemned. The comic characters seem to have been the favourites of the writer: they are of the superficial kind, and exhibit more of manners, than nature; but they are copiously filled, and powerfully impressed. Shakspeare has in his story followed, for the greater part, the old book of Caxton, which was then very popular; but the character of Thersites, of which it makes no mention, is a proof

(1) Ignominy. (3) Canvass hangings for rooms, painted with that this play was written after Chapman had pubemblems and mottoes.

lished his version of Homer.

JOHNSON.

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Pain. It wears, sir, as it grows.

Poet. Ay, that's well known: But what particular rarity? what strange, Which manifold record not matches? See, Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power Hath conjur'd to attend. I know the merchant. Pain. I know them both; t'or's a jeweller. Mer. O, 'tis a worthy lord! Jew.

Nay, that's most fix'd. Mer. A most incomparable man; breath'd,' as

it were,

To an untirable and continuate goodness:
He passes."
Jew.

I have a jewel here.

Mer. O, pray let's see't: For the lord Timon, sir?
Jew. If he will touch the estimate: But, for that-
Poet. When we for recompense have prais'd the
vile,

It stains the glory in that happy verse
Which aptly sings the good."
Mer.

'Tis a good form. [Looking at the jewel. Jew. And rich: here is a water, look you. Pain. You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedi

cation

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Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes
From whence 'tis nourished: The fire i'the flint
Shows not, till it be struck; our gentle flame
Provokes itself, and, like the current, flies
Each bound it chafes. What have you there?
Pain. A picture, sir.-And when comes your
book forth?

Poet. Upon the heels of my presentment, sir.
Let's see your piece.

Pain.

'Tis a good piece.

Poet. So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent. Pain. Indifferent.

Poet.

Admirable: How this grace Speaks his own standing! what a mental power This eye shoots forth! how big imagination Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture One might interpret.

Pain. It is a pretty mocking of the life. Here is a touch; Is't good?

Poet.

I'll say of it,

It tutors nature: artificial strife"
Lives in these touches, livelier than life.

Enter certain Senators, and pass over.
Pain. How this lord's follow'd!
Poet. The senators of Athens:-Happy men!
Pain. Look, more!

Poet. You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors.

I have, in this rough work, shap'd out a man,
Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug
With amplest entertainment: My free drift
Halts not particularly, but moves itself
In a wide sea of wax: no levell'd malice
Infests one comma in the course I hold;
But flies an eagle flight, bold, and forth on,

(4) As soon as my book has been presented to Timon.

(5) i. e. The contest of art with nature. (6) My design does not stop at any particular

(3) i. e. Exceeds, goes beyond common bounds. character.

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