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Or bring him off : Fate, hear me what I say ! On, Myrmidons; and cry you all amain,
I reck not though I end my life to-day. [Esit. Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.

[A retreat sounded. Enter one in sumptuous armour.

Hark! a retreat upon our Grecian part. Hect.. Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou art a Myr. The Trojan trumpets sound the like, my goodly mark :

lord. No? wilt thou not? - I like thy armour well ; Achil. The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the I'll frush it, and unlock the rivets all,

earth, But I'll be master of it: - Wilt thou not, beast, And, stickler like, the armies separates. abide ?

My half-supp'd sword, that frankly would have fed, Why then, fly on, I'll hunt thee for thy hide. Pleas'd with this dainty bit, thus goes to bed. [Ereunt.

[Sheaths his stoord.

Come, tie his body to my horse's tail ;
SCENE VII. - The same.

Along the field I will the Trojan trail. (Eseunt.
Enter Achilles, with Myrmidons.


The same.
Achil. Come here about me, you my Myrmidons ;
Mark what I say.
Attend me where I wheel :

Enter AGAMEMNON, AJAX, MENELAUS, NESTOR, Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath;

DIOMEDES, and others, marching Shouts within. And when I have the bloody Hector found,

Agam. Hark! hark! what shout is that? Empale him with your weapons round about ;


Peace, drums In fellest manner execute your arms.


Achilles ! Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye :

Achilles ! Hector's slain! Achilles ! It is decreed Hector the great must die.

Dio. The bruit is - Hector's slain, and by [Ereunt.


Ajar. If it be so, yet bragless let it be;
SCENE VIII. The same.

Great Hector was as good a man as he.

Agam. March patiently along :- Let one be sent Enter MENELAUS and Paris, fighting : then To pray Achilles see us at our tent. THERSITES.

If in his death the gods have us befriended, Ther. The cuckold, and the cuckold-maker are at Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are ended. it: Now, bull! now, dog! ’Loo, Paris, 'loo! now

[Exeunt, marching my double-henned sparrow ! 'loo, Paris, 'loo! The bull has the game : - 'ware horns, ho!

SCENE XI. Another Part of the Field. [Exeunt Paris and MENELAUS.

Enter Æneas and Trojans.

Æne. Stand, ho! yet are we masters of the field: Mar. Turn, slave, and fight.

Never go home; here starve we out the night. Ther. What art thou ?

Enter TROILUS. Mar. A bastard son of Priam's.

Ther. I am a bastard too; I love bastards : I am Tro. Hector is slain. a bastard begot, bastard instructed, bastard in mind, AU.

Hector ? — The gods forbid ! bastard in valour, in every thing illegitimate. One Tro, He's dead; and at the murderer's horse's bear will not bite another, and wherefore should one

tail, bastard ? Take heed, the quarrel's most ominous to In beastly sort, dragg'd through the shameful field, us : if the son of a whore fight for a whore, he tempts Frown on, you heavens, effect your rage with judgment: Farewell, bastard.

speed ! Mar. The devil take thee, coward! [Exeunt. Sit, gods, upon your thrones, and smile at Troy!

I say, at once let your brief plagues be mercy, SCENE IX. - Another Part of the Field. And linger not our sure destructions on !

Æne. My lord, you do discomfort all the host. Enter Hector.

Tro. You understand me not, that tell me so : Hect. Most putrified core, so fair without, I do not speak of flight, of fear, of death; Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life.

But dare all imminence, that gods and men,
Now is my day's work done : I'll take good breath : Address their dangers in. Hector is gone!
Rest, sword : thou hast thy fill of blood and death! Who shall tell Priam so, or Hecuba ?

(Puts off his helmet, and hangs his shield Let him, that will a screech-owl aye be callid,
behind him.

Go in to Troy, and say there Hector's dead :

There is a word will Priam turn to stone;
Enter Achilles and Myrmidons.

Make wells and Niobes of the maids and wives,
Achil. Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set ; Cold statues of the youth; and, in a word,
How ugly night comes breathing at his heels : Scare Troy out of itself. But, march, away :
Even with the vail and dark’ning of the sun, Hector is dead ; there is no more to say.
To close the day up, Hector's life is done.

Stay yet; – You vile abominable tents, Hect. I am unarm'd; forego this vantage, Thus proudly right upon our Phrygian plains, Greek.

Let Titan rise as early as he dare, Achil. Strike, fellows, strike; this is the man I | I'll through and through you! — And thou, greatseek.

(Hector falls.

siz'd coward ! So, Ilion, fall thou next; now, Troy, sink down; No space of earth shall sunder our two hates; Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone. 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:

Full merrily the humble-bee doth sing,

Till he hath lost his honey, and bis sting : Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe. [Ereunt Æneas and Trojans.

And being once subdued in armed tail,

Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail. As Troilus is going out, enter, from the other side, Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted PANDARUS.

cloths. Pan. But hear you, hear you !

As many as be here of pander's hall, Tro. Hence, broker lackey ! ignomy and shame Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar's fall : Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name. Or, if you cannot weep, yet give some groans,

[Erit Troilus. Though not for me, yet for your aching bones. Pan. A goodly med’cine for my aching bones !. Brethren, and sisters, of the hold-door trade, O world! world! world! thus is the poor agent Some two months hence my will shall here be made : despised ! O traitors and bawds, how earnestly are It should be now, but that my fear is this, you set a' work, and how ill requited! Why should Some galled goose of Winchester would hiss : our endeavour be so loved, and the performance so Till then I'll sweat, and seek about for eases ; loathed ? what verse for it? what instance for it? - And, at that time, bequeath you my diseases. Let me see:





Timox, a noble Athenian.

The Servant of Isidore. Lucius,

Two of Timon's Creditors. LUCULLUS, Lords, and flatterers of Timon. Cupid and Maskers. SEMPRONIUS,

Three Strangers. VENTIDIUS, one of Timon's false friends.

Poet. A PEMANTUS, a churlish philosopher.

Painter. ALCIBIADES, an Athenian general.

Jeweller. Flavius, steward to Timon.

Merchant. FLAMINIUS,

An old Athenian. LUCILIUS, Timon's servants.

A Page.

A Fool.


mistresses to Alcibiades. Titus,

servants to Timon's creditors. Lucius, HORTENSIUS,

Other Lords, Senators, Officers, Soldiers, Thiens Two Servants of Varro

and Attendants. SCENE, – ATHENS; and the woods adjoining.



SCENE I. - Athens. A Hall in Timon's House. Jew. If he will touch the estimate: But, for

that Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and

Poet. When we for recompense have prais'd the others, at several doors.

vile, Poet. Good day, sir

It stains the glory in that happy verse Pain.

I am glad you are well. Which aptly sings the good. Poet. I have not seen you long; How goes the Mer.

'Tis a good form. world?

(Looking at the jewel. Pain. It wears, sir, as it grows.

Jew. And rich : here is a water, look you. Poet.

Ay, that's well known : Pain. You are rapt, sir, in some work, some But what particular rarity? what strange,

dedication Which manifold record not matches? See,

To the great lord. Magick of bounty! all these spirits thy power Poet.

A thing slipp'd idly from m Hath conjur'd to attend. I know the merchant. Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes

Pain. I know them both; t'other's a jeweller. From whence 'tis nourished : The fire i'the flint Mer. 0, 'tis a worthy lord !

Shows not, till it be struck; our gentle flame Jew.

Nay, that's most fix'd. Provokes itself, and, like the current, flies Mer. A most incomparable man ; breath’d, as it Each bound it chafes. What have you there? were,

Pain. A picture, sir. - And when comes your To an untirable and continuate goodness .

book forth?

Poet. Upon the heels of my presentment, sir. Jew. I have a jewel here.

Let's see your piece. Mer. O, pray, let's see't : For the lord Timon, Pain.


'Tis a good piece. sir ?

Poet. So 'tis : this comes off well and excellente


Hle passes.

Pain. Indifferent.

Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down, Poet.

Admirable : How this grace Not one accompanying his declining foot. Speaks his own standing! what a mental power Pain. 'Tis common : This eye shoots forth ! how big imagination A thousand moral paintings I can show, Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture That shall demonstrate these quick blows of fortune One might interpret.

More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well, Pain. It is a pretty mocking of the life.

To show lord Timon, that mean eyes have seen Here is a touch ; Is't good ?

The foot above the head. Poet.

I'll say of it, It tutors nature : artificial strife

Trumpets sound. Enter Timon, attended; the Ser Lives in these touches, livelier than life.

vant of VENTIDIUS talking with him.

Enter certain Senators, and pass over.

Imprison'd is he, say you ?

Ven. Serv. Ay, my good lord: five talents is his Parn. How this lord's follow'd!

debt; Poet. The senators of Athens : Happy men! His means most short, his creditors most strait : Pain. Look, more!

Your honourable letter he desires Poet. You see this confluence, this great flood of To those have shut him up; which failing to him, visitors.

Periods his comfort. I have, in this rough work, shap'd out a man,


Noble Ventidius! Well; Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug I am not of that feather, to shake off With amplest entertainment: My free drift My friend when he must need me. I do know Halts not particularly, but moves itself

him In a wide sea of wax : no levell'd malice

A gentleman, that well deserves a help, Infects one comma in the course I bold;

Which he shall have: I'll pay the debt, and free him. But flies an eagle flight, bold, and forth on,

Ven. Serv. Your lordship ever binds him. Leaving no tract behind.

Tim. Commend me to him : I will send his ranPain. How shall I understand you i

some; Poet.

I'll unbolt to you. And, being enfranchis'd, bid him come to me: You see how all conditions, how all minds,

'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, (As well of glib and slippery creatures, as

But to support him after. — Fare you well. Of grave and austere quality,) tender down

Ven. Serv. All happiness to your honour ! [Exit. Their services to lord Timon: his large fortune,

Enter an old Athenian.
Upon his good and gracious nature hanging,
Subdues and properties to his love and tendanc Old Ath. Lord Timon, hear me speak.
All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-fac'd flatterer Tim.

Freely, good father. To Apemantus, that few things loves better

Old. Ath. Thou hast a servant nam'd Lucilius. Than to abhor himself: even he drops down

Tim. I have so: What of him ? The knee before him, and returns in peace

Old Ath. Most noble Timon, call the man before Most rich in Timon's nod.

thee. Pain.

I saw them speak together. Tim. Attends he here, or no ? — Lucilius ! Poet. Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant

Enter LUCILIUS. hill, Feign's Fortune to be thron'd: The base o' the wuc. Here, at your lordship's service. mount

Old Ath. This fellow here, lord Timon, this thy Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures,

creature, That labour on the bosom of this sphere

By night frequents my house. I am a man To propagate their states : amongst them all, That from my first have been inclin'd to thrift; Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix’d, And my estate deserves an heir more rais'd, One do 1 personate of lord Timon's frame,

Than one which holds a trencher. Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her ; Tim.

Well; what further ? Whose present grace to present slaves and servants Old Ath. One only daughter have I, no kin else, Translates his rivals.

On whom I may confer what I have got : Pain. 'Tis conceiv'd to scope.

The maid is fair, o'the youngest for a bride,
This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks, And I have bred her at my dearest cost,
With one man beckon'd from the rest below, In qualities of the best. This man of thine
Bowing his head against the steepy mount

Attempts her love : I pr’ythee, noble lord,
To climb his happiness, would be well express'd Join with me to forbid him her resort;
In our condition.

Myself have spoke in vain.
Nay, sir, but hear me on:


The man is honest. All those which were his fellows but of late,

Old Ath. Therefore he will be, Timon :
(Some better than his value,) on the moment His honesty rewards him in itself,
Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance, It must not bear my daughter.
Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear,


Does she love him Make sacred even his stirrop, and through him

Old Ath. She is



apt: Drink the free air.

Our own precedent passions do instruct us
Ay, marry, what of these ?

What levity's in youth.
Poet. When Fortune, in her shift and change of Tim. [To Lucilius.] Love you the maid ?

Luc. Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it. Spurns down her late belov'd, all his deperdants, Old Ath. If in her marriage my consent be missing, Which labour'd after him to the mountain's top, I call the gods to witness, I will choose

Go not away..


Mine heir from forth tlie beggars of the world, Tim. Whither art going?
And dispossess her all.

Apem. To knock out an honest Athenian s brains. Tim.

How shaii she be endow'd, Tim. That's a deed thou'lt die for. If she be mated with an equal husband ?

Apem. Right, if doing nothing be death by the lass, Old Ath. Three talents, on the present; in future, Tim. How likest thou this picture, Apemantus : all.

Apem. The best, for the innocence. Tim. This gentleman of mine hath serv'd me long; Tim. Wrought he not well, that painted it? To build his fortune I will strain a little,

Apem. He wrought better, that made the painter; For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter : and yet he's but a filthy piece of work. What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise,

Pain. You are a dog. And make him weigh with her.

Apem. Thy mother's of my generation; What's Old Ath.

Most noble lord, she, if I be a dog ? Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.

Tim. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus ? Tim. My hand to thee; mine honour on my Apem. No; I eat not lords. promise.

Tim. An thou should'st, thou’dst anger ladies. Luc. Humbly I thank your lordship: Never may Apem. O, they eat lords ; so they come by great That state or fortune fall into my keeping,

bellies. Which is not ow'd to you !

Tim. That's a lascivious apprehension. (Ereunt Lucilius and old Athenian.

Apem. So thou apprehend'st it: Take it for thy Poet. Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your labour. lordship!

Tim. How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus? Tim. I thank you ; you shall hear from me anon: Apem. Not so well as plain-dealing, which will

What have you there, my friend ? not cost a man a doit.
Pain. A piece of painting, which I do beseech Tim. What dost thou tnink 'tis worth?
Your lordship to accept.

Apem. Not worth my thinking. - How now, Tim.

Painting is welcome. The painting is almost the natural man;

Poet. How


philosopher ? For since dishonour trafficks with man's nature, Apem. Thou liest. He is but outside : These pencil'd figures are

Poet. Art not one ? Even such as they give out. I like your work;

Apem. Yes. And you shall find, I like it : wait attendance

Poet. Then I lie not. Till you hear further from me.

Apem. Art not a poet ? Pain.

The gods preserve you ! Poet. Yes. Tim. Well fare you, gentlemen : Give me your Apem. Then thou liest : look thy last work, hand :

where thou hast feign'd him a worthy fellow. We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel Poet. That's not feign'd, he is so. Hath suffer'd under praise.

Apen. Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay Jew.

What, my lord ? dispraise ? thee for thy labour: He, that loves to be flattered, Tim. A meer satiety of commendations.

is worthy o’the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a If I should pay you for't as 'tis extoll’d,

lord ! It would unclew me quite.

Tim. What would'st do then, Apemantus ? Jew. My lord, 'tis rated

Apem. Even as Apemantus does now, hate a lord
As those, which sel), would give: But you well know, with my heart.
Things of like value, differing in the owners,

Tim. What, thyself?
Are prized by their masters : believe't, dear lord, Apem. Ay.
You mend the jewel by wearing it.

Tim. Wherefore?

Well mock'd.

Apem. That I had no angry wit to be a lord. Mer. No, my good lord; he speaks the common Art not thou a merchant ? tongue,

Mer. Ay, Apemantus. Which all men speak with him.

Apem. Traffick confound thee, if the gods will Tim. Look, who comes here. Will you be chid ? not! Enter APEMANTUS.

Mer. If traffick do it, the gods do it.

Apem. Traffick's thy god, and thy god confound Jew. We will bear with your lordship.

thee! Mer.

He'll spare none.
Tim. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus !

Trumpets sound. Enter a Servant.
Apem. Till I be gentle, stay for thy good morrow; Tim. What trumpet's that ?
When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves Serv.

'Tis Alcibiades, and honest.

Some twenty horse, all of companionship. Tim. Why dost thou call them knaves ? thou Tim. Pray entertain them; give them guide to know'st them not.

[Ereunt some Attendants. Apem. Are they not Athenians ?

You must needs dine with me : T'im. Yes.

hence, Appu. Then I repent not.

Till I have thank'd you ; and, when dinner's done, Jero. You know me, Apemantus.

Show me this piece. - I am joyful of your sights. Apem. Thou knowest, I do; I rall’d thee by thy

Enter ALCIBIADES, with his company. T'im. Thou art proud, Apamantus.

Most welcome, sir !

[They salute. Apem. Of nothing so much, as that I am not like Apem.

So, so; there! Timon.

Aches contract and starve your supple joints !


Go not you


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