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Enter Achilles and Myrmidons.

Achil. Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set
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
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.

[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, sticklers 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. [Exeunt.
Enter Agamemnon,
SCENE X.-The same.
Ajax, Menelaus, Nestor, Diomedes, and others,
marching. Shouts within.

Agam. Hark! hark! what shout is that?
Nest.

[Within.]

Peace, drums.

Achilles!

Achilles! Hector's slain! Achilles !
Dio. The bruit is-Hector's slain, and by Achilles.
Great Hector was as good a man as he.
Ajax. If it be so, yet bragless let it be;

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 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.
SCENE IX.-Another part of the field.

Hector.

Enter

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.

I

Eneas and Trojans.

JEne. 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!

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?
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 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!

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.

Tro. Hence, broker lackey! ignomy' and shame Pursue thy life, and live aye2 with thy name! [Exit Troilus. This play is more correctly written than most of Pan. A goodly medicine 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.'

(1) Ignominy.

(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 lished his version of Homer.

(3) Canvass hangings for rooms, painted with that this play was written after Chapman had pub

emblems and mottoes.

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'other'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 continuate2 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 dedication To the great lord. Poet.

A thing slipp'd idly from me.

(1) Inured by constant practice,

(2) For continual.

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. Indiferent.

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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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