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Cassandra doth foresee; and I myself
Am like a prophet suddenly enrapt,
To tell thee that this day is ominous:

Therefore, come back.

Hect.

Æneas is a-field;

And I do stand engag'd to many Greeks,
Even in the faith of valour, to appear
This morning to them.

Pri.

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Hect. I must not break my faith.
You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sir,
Let me not shame respect, but give me leave
To take that course by your consent and voice,
Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam.

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The effect doth operate another way.
Tearing the letter.
Go, wind to wind, there turn and change
together.

My love with words and errors still she feeds,
But edifies another with her deeds.

Exeunt severally.

SCENE IV.-Plains between Troy and the Grecian
Camp.

Alarums. Excursions. Enter THERSITES. Ther. Now they are clapper-clawing one another; I'll go look on. That dissembling abominable varlet, Diomed, has got that same Ay, but thou shalt not go. scurvy doting foolish young knave's sleeve of Troy there in his helm: I would fain see them meet; that that same young Trojan ass, that loves the whore there, might send that Greekish whore-masterly villain, with the sleeve, back to the dissembling luxurious drab, of a sleeveless errand. O'the other side, the policy of those crafty swearing rascals, that stale old mouseeaten 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 will not arm to-day; whereupon the Grecians begin to proclaim barbarism, and policy grows into an ill opinion. Soft! here comes sleeve, and t' other.

Cas. O Priam! yield not to him.
And.
Do not, dear father,
Hect. Andromache, I am offended with you:
Upon the love you bear me, get you in.

Exit ANDROMACHE.

Tro. This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl

Makes all these bodements.
Cas.

O farewell! dear Hector.
Look! how thou diest; look! how thy eye turns

pale;

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Look! how thy wounds do bleed at many vents:
Hark! how Troy roars: how Hecuba cries out!
How poor Andromache shrills her dolour forth!
Behold, distraction, frenzy, and amazement,
Like witless anticks, one another meet,

And all cry, Hector! Hector's dead! O Hector!

Tro. Away! away!

Cas. Farewell. Yet, soft! Hector, I take my leave:

Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive.

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Exit.

Hect. You are amaz'd, my liege, at her exclaim. Go in and cheer the town: we'll forth and fight, Do deeds worth praise and tell you them at night.

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Nest. Go, bear Patroclus' body to Achilles; And bid the snail-pac'd Ajax arm for shame. There is a thousand Hectors in the field: Now here he fights on Galathe his horse, And there lacks work; anon he's there afoot, And there they fly or die, like scaled sculls Before the belching whale; then is he yonder, And there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge,

Fall down before him, like the mower's swath:

Here, there, and every where, he leaves and takes, Dexterity so obeying appetite

That what he will he does; and does so much That proof is call'd impossibility.

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Enter HECTOR.

Hect. Yea, Troilus? O! well fought, my youngest brother.

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Hect. Stand, stand, 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 master of it. Wilt thou not, beast,

abide?

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Why then, fly on, I'll hunt thee for thy hide.

Excunt.

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SCENE VIII.- Another Part of the Plains.
Enter HECTOR.

Hect. Most putrefied 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 lays his sword aside.

Enter ACHILLES and Myrmidons.

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

Hect. I am unarm'd; forgo this vantage, Greek. Achil. Strike, fellows, strike! this is the man I seek.

HECTOR fulls. 10

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.

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 separates. My half-supp'd sword, that frankly would have fed,

Pleas'd with this dainty bit, thus goes to bed. 20 Sheathes his sword.

Come, tie his body to my horse's tail;
Along the field I will the Trojan trail. Exeunt.

SCENE IX.-Another Part of the Plains. Enter AGAMEMNON, AJAX, MENELAUS, NESTOR, DIOMEDES, and Others, marching. within.

Agam. Hark! hark! what shout is that?

Nest.

Shouts

Peace, drums!
Within. Achilles! Achilles! Hector's slain!
Achilles!

Dio. 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.

Agam. 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 ended. Exeunt, marching.

SCENE X.-Another Part of the Plains. Enter ÆNEAS and Trojan Forces. Ane. 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! I say, at once let your brief plagues be mercy, And linger not our sure destructions on!

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Æne. My lord, you do discomfort all the host. Tro. 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, 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, I'll through and through you! And, thou

great-siz'd coward,

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No space of earth shall sunder our two hates : I'll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still, That mouldeth goblins swift as frenzies thoughts. Strike a free march to Troy! with comfort go: Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe. Exeunt ÆNEAS and Trojan Forces.

As TROILUS is going out, enter, from the other side, PANDARUS.

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Pan. But hear you, hear you!
Tro. Hence, broker-lackey! ignomy and shame

Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name!
Exit.

Pan. 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 howill requited! why should our endeavour be so loved, 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.

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Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted cloths.

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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
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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SCENE. Rome and the neighbourhood; Corioli and the neighbourhood; Antium.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-Rome. A Street.

tory to particularize their abundance; our suffer ance is a gain to them. Let us revenge this with our pikes, ere we become rakes: for the gods know I speak this in hunger for bread, not in

Enter a company of mutinous Citizens, with staves, thirst for revenge.

clubs, and other weapons.

Second Cit. Would you proceed especially

First Cit. Before we proceed any further, hear against Caius Marcius?

me speak.

All. Speak, speak.

First Cit. You are all resolved rather to die

than to famish ?

All. Resolved, resolved.

All. Against him first: he's a very dog to the commonalty.

Second Cit. Consider you what services he has done for his country?

First Cit. Very well; and could be content to

First Cit. First, you know Caius Marcius is give him good report for 't, but that he pays

chief enemy to the people.

All. We know 't, we know 't.

First Cit. Let us kill him, and we'll have corn at our own price. Is't a verdict?

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All. No more talking on 't; let it be done. Away, away!

Second Cit. One word, good citizens.

himself with being proud.
Second Cit.

Nay, but speak not maliciously. First Cit. I say unto you, what he hath done famously, he did it to that end: though softconscienced men can be content to say it was for his country, he did it to please his mother, and to be partly proud; which he is, even to the altitude of his virtue.

Second Cit. What he cannot help in his nature, you account a vice in him. You must in no way say he is covetous.

First Cit. We are accounted poor citizens, the patricians, good. What authority surfeits on would relieve us. If they would yield us but the superfluity, while it were wholesome, we might guess they relieved us humanely; but they think we are too dear: the leanness that afflictsus, the object of our misery, is as an inven- | tire in repetition.

First Cit. If I must not, I need not be barren of accusations: he hath faults, with surplus, to Shouts within.

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Men. Why, masters, my good friends, mine honest neighbours,

Will you undo yourselves ?

First Cit. We cannot, sir; we are undone already.

Men. I tell you, friends, most charitable care Have the patricians of you. For your wants, 70 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. Alack!
You are transported by calamity

Thither where more attends you; and you slander The helms o' the state, who care for you like fathers,

When you curse them as enemies.

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First Cit. Care for us! True, indeed! They ne'er cared for us yet: suffer us to famish, and their storehouses crammed with grain; make edicts for usury, to support usurers; repeal daily any wholesome act established against the rich, and provide more piercing statutes daily to chain up and restrain the poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; and there's all the love they bear us.

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Unto the appetite and affection common
Of the whole body. The belly answer'd,-
First Cit. Well, sir, what answer made the belly?
Men. Sir, I shall tell you. With a kind of smile,
Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus,
For, look you, I may make the belly smile
As well as speak, it tauntingly replied

To the discontented members, the mutinous parts
That envied his receipt; even so most fitly
As you malign our senators for that
They are not such as you.

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If you'll bestow a small, of what you have little,

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Patience awhile, you'll hear the belly's answer.
First Cit. Ye 're long about it.
Men.
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;

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First Cit. Ay, sir; well, well. Men.

'Though all at once cannot

See what I do deliver out to each,

Yet I can make my audit up, that all

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From me do back receive the flour of all,
And leave me but the bran.' What say you to't?

First Cit. It was an answer. How apply you
this?

Men. The senators of Rome are this good
belly,

And you the mutinous members; for examine
Their counsels and their cares, digest things

rightly

Touching the weal o' the common, you shall find
No public benefit which you receive
But it proceeds or comes from them to you,
And no way from yourselves. What do you

think,

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You, the great toe of this assembly?
First Cit. I the great toe? Why the great toe?

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