Troilus! thou coward Troilus!

Diomedes.

Nestor. So, so, we draw together.

Enter Achilles
Achilles.

[Exit.

Ajar hath ta'en Encas: shall it be?
No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven,
Ay, there, there. He shall not carry him: I'll be taken too,
Or bring him off.-Fate, hear me what I say!
I reck not though thou end my life to-day.

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.
[Excunt.
SCENE VI. Another part of the Field.

Enter Diomedes.

Diomedes.

Troilus, I say! where's Troilus?

Ajax.

SCENE VII. The same.

Enter Achilles, with Myrmidons.
Achilles.

Come here about me, you my Myrmidons; Mark what I say. Attend me where I wheel: Strike not astroke, but keep yourselves in breath; What would'st thou ? And when I have the bloody Hector found,

Empale him with your weapons round about;
In fellest manner execute your aims.
Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye.-
It is decreed-Hector the great must die.

Yea, Troilus? O! well fought, my youngest bastard begot, bastard instructed, bastard in brother.

Enter Achilles.

Achilles.

Now do I see thee.

mind, bastard in valour, in every thing illegiti mate. 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 Ha! Have at thee whore fight for a whore, he tempts judgment. Farewell, bastard.

Hector.
Pause, if thou wilt.

Hector.

Margarelon.

The devil take thee, coward!

[Exeunt, SCENE

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
Heath!

off his Helmet, and lays his Sword
aside.

Enter Achilles and Myriaidons.

Achilles.

Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set; How ugly night comes breathing at his heels: Even with the vail and dark'ning of the sun, To close the day up, Hector's life is done.

Hector.

I am unarm'd: forego this vantage, Greek.
Achilles.

Strike, fellows, strike! this is the man I seek.
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.
LA Retreat sounded.
Hark! a retreat upon our Grecian part.

Myrmidens.

The Trojan trumpets sound the like, my lord.

Achilles.

The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the
earth,

[fed,
And, stickler like, the armies separates.
My half-supp'd sword, that frankly would have
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 sune.

Exeunt.

Enter Agamemnon, Ajar, Menelaus, Nestor,
Shouts
Diomedes, and others, marching.

within.

Agamemnon.

Hark! hark! what shout is that?

[Within.]

Nestor.

Peace, drums!
Achilles!

Achilles! Hector's slain! Achilles !

Diomedes.

The bruit is, Hector's slain, and by Achilles.
Ajax.

If it be so, yet bragless let it be:
Great Hector was a man as good as he.
Agamemnon.

March patiently along.- Let one be sent
To pray Achilles see us at our tent.-
If in his death the gods have us befriended,
Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are
[Exeunt, marching.

ended.

SCENE XI. Another part of the Field.

Enter Æneas and Trojan Forces.
Eneas.

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

You understand me not, that tell me so.
I 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?
Let him, that will a screech-owl aye be call'd
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,
Scare Troy out of itself. But, march, away:
Cold statues of the youth; and, in a word,
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,

I'll through and through you!-And, thou great-
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's
thoughts.-

Strike a free march to Troy!-with comfort go:
Exeunt Aneas and Trojan Forces
Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe.

As Troilus is going out, enter, from the other
side, Pandarus.
Pandarus.
But hear you, hear you!
Troilus.

Hence, broker, lackey! ignomy and shame
Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name!
[Kit Troilus.

Pandarus.

A goodly medicine for mine aching bones!-O world! world! world! thus is the poor agent despised. O, traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you set a' work, and how ill requited! why should our endeavour be so desired, and the performance so loathed? what verse for it? what instance for it?-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.

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 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

No more talking on't; let it be done. Away, men can be content to say it was for his country, away!

Second Citizen.

First Citizen.

One word, good citizens.

he did it to please his mother, and to be partly proud; which he is, even to the altitude of his virtue.

Second Citizen.

We are accounted poor citizens; the patriWhat he cannot help in his nature, you cians good. What authority surfeits on, would account a vice in him. You must in no way relieve us: if they would yield us but the super-say he is covetous. fluity, while it were wholesome, we might guess

First Citizen.

they relieved us humanely; but they think, we If I must not, I need not be barren of accu

sations:

sations; he hath faults, with surplus, to tire in repetition. Shouts within.] What shouts are these? The other side o' the city is risen: why stay we prating here? to the Capitol!

Come, come.

All.

First Citizen.

Soft! who comes here?

Enter Menenius Agrippa.

Second Citizen.

Like labour with the rest; where th' other in

struments

Did see, and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel,
And, mutually participate, did minister
Unto the appetite, and affection common
Of the whole body. The belly answered,-
Second Citizen.

Well, sir, what answer made the belly?
Menenius.

Sir, I shall tell you.-With a kind of smile,
Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus,

Worthy Menenius Agrippa; one that hath (For, look you, I may make the belly smile, always loved the people.

First Citizen.

As well as speak) it tauntingly replied
T' the discontented members, the mutinous parts

He's one honest enough: would all the rest That envied his receipt; even so most fitly
were so!
As you malign our senators, for that
They are not such as you.
Second Citizen

Menenius.

What work's, my countrymen, in hand?
Where go you
With bats and clubs? The matter? Speak, I
pray you.

Second Citizen.

I tell you, friends, most charitable care
Have the patricians of you. For your wants,
Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well
Strike at the heaven with your staves, as lift them
Against the Roman state; whose course will on
The way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs
Of more strong link asunder, than can ever
Appear in your impediment. For the dearth,
The gods, not the patricians, make it; and
Your knees to them, not arms, must help.
You are transported by calamity [Alack!
Thither where more attends you; and you slander
The helms o' the state, who care for you like
When you curse them as enemies. [fathers,

Second Citizen.

Your belly's answer? What!
The kingly crowned head, the vigilant eye,
The counsellor heart, the arm our soldier,
Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter,
With other muniments and petty helps
In this our fabric, if that they-

Menenius.

What then?-

'Fore me, this fellow speaks!-what then? what
then?
Second Citizen.

Should by the cormorant belly be restrain'd,
Who is the sink o' the body,-

Menenius.

Well, what then?

Second Citizen.

Note me this, good friend;
Your most grave belly was deliberate,
Not rash like his accusers, and thus answer'd:-
"True is it, my incorporate friends," quoth he,
"That I receive the general food at first,
Which you do live upon, and fit it is,
Because I am the store-house, and the shop
Of the whole body: but if you do remember,
I send it through the rivers of your blood,
Even to the court, the heart, to the seat o' the

brain;

And through the cranks and offices of man,
The strongest nerves, and small inferior veins,
From me receive that natural competency
Whereby they live. And though that all at once,
You, my good friends," this says the belly, mark

Ay, sir; well, well.

Menenius,

"Though all at once cannot

See what I do deliver out to each.
Yet I can make my audit up, that all
From me do back receive the flour of all,
And leave me but the bran." What say you to't?
Second Citizen.

It was an answer. How apply you this?
Menenius.

The senators of Rome are this good belly,
And you the mutinous members: for examine

Thanks. What's the matter, you dissentious

rogues,

That rubbing the poor itch of your opinion,
Make yourselves scabs?

Second Citizen.

Marcius

What is granted them? Marcius.

Five tribunes, to defend their vulgar wisdoms,
Of their own choice: one's Junius Brutus,

We have ever your good word. Sicinius Velutus, and I know not-'Sdeath!
The rabble should have first unroof'd the city,
Ere so prevail'd with me: it will in time
Win upon power, and throw forth greater
For insurrection's arguing.
[themes

He that will give good words to thee, will
flatter

Beneath abhorring.—What would you have, you

you,

Where he should find you lions, finds you hares;
Where foxes, geese: you are no surer, no,
Than is the coal of fire upon the ice,

Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is [him,
To make him worthy, whose offence subdues
And curse that justice did it. Who deserves
greatness,

Deserves your hate; and your affections are
A sick man's appetite, who desires most that
Which would increase his evil. He that depends
Upon your favours, swims with fins of lead,
And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye!
Trust ye?

With every minute you do change a mind,
And call him noble, that was now your hate,
Him vile, that was your garland. What's the
matter,

That in these several places of the city
You cry against the noble senate, who,
Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else
Would feed on one another?-What's their
seeking?

Menenius.

For corn at their own rates; whereof, they The city is well stor'd. [say,

Marcius.

Hang 'em! They say?
They'll sit by the fire, and presume to know
What's done i' the Capitol; who's like to rise,
Who thrives, and who declines; side factions,
and give out

Conjectural marriages; making parties strong,
And feebling such as stand not in their liking
Below their cobbled shoes. They say, there's
grain enough?

Would the nobility lay aside their ruth,

And let me use my sword, I'd make a quarry

Menenius.
Marcius.

This is strange.

Go; get you home, you fragments!
Enter a Messenger.
Messenger.

Where's Caius Marcius?

Marcius.