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Or bring him off: Fate, hear me what I fay;
I reck not though thou end my life to-day. [Exit.

Enter one in Armour.
Hell. Stand, stand, thou Greek, thou art a good.

ly 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, beaft, abide?
Why then, fly 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 yourselves in breath; And when I have the bloody Hector found, Impale him with your weapons round about: In fellest inanner.execute your arms. Follow me, Sirs, and my proceeding eye: It is decreed----Hector the great must die.

[Excunt. Enter T ?ERSITES, 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 sparrow; 'loo, Paris, 'loo; the bull has the game : ’ware horns, ho.

[Exeunt Paris and Menelaus,

Enter Bastard.
Baf. Turn, slave, and fight.
Ther. What art thou?
Bajt. A bastard fon of Priam's.

Ther. I am a bastard too, I love bastards. 1 am a bastard begot, bastard instructed, bastard in mind, bastard in valour, in every thing il

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legitimate: one bear will not bite another, (51)
and wherefore should one bastard take heed,
the quarrel's most oninous to us : if the son of a
whore fight for a whore, he tempts judgment :
farewel, baitard.
Baft. The devil take thee, coward. [Exeunt.

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


breath; Reit, sword, thou haft thy fill of blood and death.

Enter ACHILLES and his Myrmidons.
Achil. Look, Hector, how 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 full uton Hector, and kill him. Hell. I am unarmed, forego this vantage, Greek

Achil. Strike, fellows, striže, this is the man I seek.
So, Ilion, fall thou next. Now, Troy, sink down:
Here lyes thy heart, thy sinews and thy bone,
On, Myrmidons, and cry you all amain,
Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.
Hark! a retreat upon our Grecian part. [Lord.

Myr. The Trojan trumpets found the like, my
Acbil. The dragon-wing of night o'erspreads the

And, stickler-like, the armies separates. (52)

(51) One bear will not bite another,] So Juvenal says more ferioully;

sevis inter fe convenit ursis. (52) And, stickler-like, the armies feporate.) So Mr Pope in boch bis editions ; by which means the comparison stands thus;

- The armies' feparate of themselves, as sticklers leparate others. But, with that editor's permifion, we mud [Exeunt.

My half-fup'd sword, that frankly would have fed,
Pleased with this dainty bit, thus goes to-bed.
Come, tie his body to my horse's tail:
Along the field I will the Trojan trail.

[Sound Retreat.


DIOMEDE, and the reft, marching. Aga. Hark, hark, what shout is that?

Neft. Peace, drums. : Sol. Achilles ! Achilles ! Hector's flain! Achilles ! · Dio. The bruit is, Hector's Nain, and by Achilles.

Ajax. If it is fo, yet bragless let it be: Great Hector was as good a man as he. i Aga. March patiently along: let one be sent To pray Achilles see its at our tent. If in his death the Gods have us befriended, Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are ended.


Æne. Stand, ho! yet we are masters of the field; Never go home, here starve we out the night. call back the reading of the better copies, and then the senfe will be this; Night, fti kler-like, puts an end to the engage. ment, and separates the armies. I am apt to think Mc Pope did not know the word, or the office of the person intended by it. The French call these gentry moyenneurs, arbitres, persones interposees. In this very play, Diomede and Æneas are sliklers, to Ajax and Hedor in their combat, seconds to fee fair play, and arbitrate the duel. The word was familiar both to Ben Johnson and Beaumont and Fleicher:

Who is drawn hither by report of your cartels, advanced in court, to prove his fortune with your prizer, fo lle may have fair play thewa hin, and the liberty to chule bis Arcker.

Cruth'ri's Revels. lop: Ile keeps his fury hill, and may do mitchief. Alila Ile Ball be lianged luft; we'll be fricklersiliere, boys.

Sports Carache


Troi. Hector is slain.
All. Hector ! -the Gods: forbid !

Troi. He's dead, and at the murderer's horse's
In beatly fort dragged through the shameful field.
Frown on, you Heav'ns, effect your rage with speed;
Sit, Gods, upon your thrones, and smile at Troy!
I say, at once, let your brief plagues be mercy,
And linger not our sure destructions on.

Ænc. My Lord, you do discomfort all the host.

Troi. You understand me not, that tell me fo:
I do not speak of fight, of fear, of death,
But dare all imminence, that Gods and men
Address their dangers in. Hector is gone !
Who shall tell Priam fo, or Hecuba ?
Let him that will a scrietch-howl ay be called,
Go into Troy, and say there, Hector's dead:
That 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 pight upon our Phrygian plains:
Let Titan rise as early as he dare, [coward !
I'll through and through you. And thou, great-fiz'd
No space of earth shall sunder our two hates;
I'll haunt thee, like a wicked conscience still,
That mouldeth goblins fwift as frenzy's thoughts.
Strike a free march to Troy! with comfort go:
Hope of revenge Thall hide our inward woe.

Pan. But hear you, hear you?


Troi. Hence, brothel-lacquey; ignominy, shame

[Strikes him. Pursue thy life, and live ay with thy name! [Exeunt.

Pan. A goodly medicine for my aking bones! Oh world! world! world! thus is the poor agent despised. Oh, traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you set at work, and how how ill requited! why should our endeavour be fo loved, and the performance fo loathed? what verse for it? what in. stance for it?let me see Full merrily the humble bee doth fing, 'Till he hath lost his honey and his iting; But being once fubdued in armed tail, Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail. Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted cloths------As many as be here of Pandar's hall,


out, weep out at Pandar's fall; Or if

you cannot weep, yet give some groans, Though not for me, yet for your aking 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

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