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As if that luck, in very spite of cunning,
Bade him win all.

Enter Ajax.


Ajax. Troilus! thou coward Troilus !
Dio. Ay, there, there.
Nejt. So, so, we draw together.


Enter Achilles.

Achil. Where is this Hector ?
Come, come, thou boy-queller, shew thy face;
Know what it is to meet Achilles angry.
Hector! where's Hector? I will none but Hector.


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Re-enter Ajax.
Ajax. Troilus, thou coward Troilus, shew thy


Enter Diomed.


Dio. Troilus, I fay! where's Troilus?
Ajax. What wouldst thou ?
Dio. I would correct him.
Ajax. Were I the general, thou shouldst have my

Ere that correction :-Troilus, I say ! what Troilus !

Enter Troilus.

Troi. O traitor Diomed !-turn thy false face,

thou traitor, And pay thy life thou ow'st me for my horse !



Dio. Ha! art thou there?
Ajax. I'll fight with him alone; stand, Diomed.
Dio. He is my prize, I will not look upon.
Troi. Come both, you cogging Grecks; have


Exeunt, fighting

at you both,

Enter Heator.

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

brother !

Enter Achilles.

Achil. Now do I see thee: Ha!-Have at thee, Hector. Heet. Pause, if thou wilt.

[Fight. Achil. I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Trojan. Be happy, that my arms are out of use: My rest and negligence befriend thee now, But thou anon shalt hear of me again; 'Till when, go seek thy fortune.

Heet. Fare thee well:
I would have been much more a fresher man,
Had I expected thee.--How now, my brother?

Re-enter Troilus.

Troi. Ajax hath ta'en Æneas; Shall it be? No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven,

: you cogging Greeks, This epithet has no particular propriety in this place, but the author had heard of Gracia Mendax. JOHNSON.

Surely the epithet had propriety in respect of Diomed at least, who had defrauded him of his mistress. Troilus bestows it on both, unius ob culpam. A fraudulent man, as I am told, is fill called in the North-a gainful Greek. Cicero bears witness to this character of the ancient Greeks. Testimoniorum religionem & fidem nunquam ifa natio coluit.Again—"Græcorum ingenia ad fallendum paraia funt." STEEVENS.


He shall not carry him ; I'll be taken too,
Or bring him off :--Fate, hear me what I say !
I reck not though I end my life to-day.


Enter one in armour.

Heet. 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,


-1 like thy armour well ;] This circumstance is taken from Lydgate's poem, p. 196:

"Guido in his historie doth few
" By worthy Hector's fall, who coveting
• To have the sumptuous armor of that king, &c.

“ So greedy was thereof, that when he had
The body up, and on his horse it bare,

“ To have the spoil thereof such hafte he made “ That he did hang his shield without all care

“ Behind him at his back, the easier

“ To pull the armour off at his desire,

« And by that means his breast clean open lay." &c. This furnished Shakspeare with the hine for the following line:

I am unarm’d; forego this vantage, Greek. STEEVENS. * I'll frush it,-) The word frush I never found elsewhere, nor understand it. Hanmer explains it, to break or bruise. JOHNSON.

To fruso a chicken, is a term in carving which I cannot exa! plain. I am indebted for this little knowledge of it to E. Smith's Complete Hufwife, published in 1741. The term is as ancient as Wynkyn de Worde's Book of Kervinge, 1508. Holinshed, describing the soldiers of Richmond making themselves ready, says,

they bent their bows, and frushed their feathers ;' and (as Mr. Tollet has observed) employs it again in his Description of Ireland, p. 29: “ When they are fore fruht with fickness, or to farre withered with age.” To fruß, in this first instance, says he, fignifies to change the feathers from their natural smooth and Noping position, to a rough perpendicular one, whereby the arrow

flies the steadier to its mark, and whistles in the air. In the fecond instance, it means to disorder. The word seems to be some.

But I'll be master of it :-Wilt thou not, beast,

abide ? Why then, fiy on, I'll hunt thee for thy hide. [Exit.

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Achil. Come here about me, you my Myrinidons; 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, Empale him with your weapons round about; In fellest manner execute your arms . Follow me, firs, and my proceedings eye :It is decreed-Hector the great must die. [Exeunt,

times used for any action of violence by which things are feparated, disordered, or destroyed. So, in Hinde's Elioflo Libidinoso, 1606 :

High cedars are frushed with tempefts, when lower shrubs are not touched with the wind.” Again, in Hans Beer-pot's Invisible Comedy, &c. 1618 :

“ And with mine arm to frush a sturdy lance.” Again, in the History of Helyas Knight of the Swan, bl. I. no date;

-smote him so courageously with his sworde, that he frushed all his helm, wherewith the erle fell backward, &c.Again, in Stanyhurst's translation of the first book of Virgil's Æneid, 1582 :

“ All the frushe and leavings of Greeks, of wrathfal Achilles.” Again,

-yf that knight Æntheous haplye “ Were frusht, or remanent, &c.” Again, in Sir John Mandevile's account of the magical entertainments exhibited before the Grete Chan, p. 285:

“ And then they make knyghtes to jousten in armes fulle lufty“ ly, &c.-and they frafcben togidere fulle fiercely."

STEEVENS. 2 execute your arms.] Thus all the copies; but surely we should read-ips, STEEVENS,


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Enter Therfites, 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 Margarelon.
Mar. Turn, flave, 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: Farewel, bastard.

Mar. The devil take thee, coward ! [Exeunt.


Another part of the field.

Enter HeEtor.

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Heet. Most putrified core, fo 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!

Enter Achilles, and his Myrmidons.
Achil. Look, Hector, how the sun begins to fet;
How ugly night comes breathing at his heels :

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