Life every Man holds dear, but the dear Man
Holds Honour far more precious-dear than Life.

Enter Troilus.

How, now, young man; mean'ft thou to fight to day?
Andr. Caffandra, call my Father to perfwade.

[Exit Caffandra Hect. No Faith, young Troilus; doff thy Harnefs, Youth: I am to day i'th' vein of Chivalry:

Let grow thy Sinews till their knots be strong,
And tempt not yet the brushes of the War.
Unarm thee, go; and doubt thou not, brave Boy,
I'll ftand to day, for thee, and me, and Troy.

Troi. Brother, you have a vice of Mercy in yous
Which better fits a Lion, than a Man.

Hect. What Vice is that? Good Troilus, chide me for it. Troi. When many times the Captive Grecians fall, Even in the fan and wind of your fair Sword,

You bid them rife, and live.

Hect. O, 'tis fair play.

Troi. Fools Play, by Heav'n, Hector.

Hect. How now? how now?

Troi. For th' love of all the Gods,

Let's leave the Hermit Pity with our Mothers;
And when we have our Armours buckeld on,
The venom'd Vengeance ride upon our Swords,
Spur them to ruful work, rein them from ruth.
Helt. Fie, Savage, fie.

Troi. Hector, then 'tis Wars.

Helt. Troilus, I would not have you fight to day!
Troi. Who fhould with-hold me?

Not Fate, Obedience, nor the Hand of Mars,
Beckning with fiery Truncheon my retire:

Not Priamus and Hecuba on Knees,

Their Eyes o'er-galled with recourfe of Tears;
Nor you, my Brother, with your true Sword drawn,
Oppos'd to hinder me, should stop my way;
But by my Ruin.

Enter

Enter Priam and Caffandra.

Caf. Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him faft:
He is thy Crutch; now if thou lofe thy ftay,
Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee;
Fall all altogether.

Priam. Come, Hector, come, go back:

Thy Wife hath Dreamt; thy Mother hath had Vifions;
Caffandra doth forefee; and I my felf,

Am like a Prophet, fuddenly enrapt,
To tell thee that this day is Ominous:
Therefore come back.

Helt. Aneas is a-field,

And I do ftand engaged to many Greeks,
Even in the Faith of Valour, to appear
This Morning to them.

Priam. Ay, but thou shalt not go.
Hect, I must not break my Faith:

You know me Dutiful, therefore, dear Sir,
Let me not fhame refpect; but give me leave
To take that courfe by your Confent and Voice,
Which you do here forbid me, Royal Priam.
Caf. O, Priam, yield not to him.

Andr. Do not, dear Father.

Het. Andromache, I am offended with you:

Upon the love you bear me; get you in.

[Exit Andromache.

Troi. This foolish, dreaming, fuperftitious Girl,

Makes all thefe bodements.

Caf. O farewel, dear Hector:

Look how thou dieft; look how thy Eyes turn pale; i
Look how thy Wounds do bleed at many vents;
Hark how Troy roars; how Hecuba cries out;
How poor Andromache fhrills her Dolour forth;
Behold Distraction, Frenzy and Amazement,
Like witlefs Anticks, one another meet,
And all cry, Hector, Hector's dead: O Hector!
Troi. Away.

าง

Caf. Farewel: Yet, foft: Hector, I take my leave; Thou do'ft thy felf, and all our Troy deceive.

[Exit.

Hect. You are amaz'd, my Liege, at her Exclaim: Go in and cheer the Town, we'll forth and fight; Do deeds of praife, and tell you them at Night. Priam. Farewel: The Gods with fafety ftand about thee. [Alarum Troi. They are at it, hark: Proud Diomede, believe I come to lofe my Arm, or win my Sleeve.

Enter Pandarus.

Pand. Do you hear, my Lord? do you hear?
Troi. What now?

Pand. Here's a Letter come from yond poor Girl..
Troi. Let me read.

Pand. A whorfon Ptifick, a whorfon rafcally Ptifick, fo troubles me; and the foolish Fortune of this Girl, and what one thing, and what another, that I fhall leave you one o'thefe days? and I have a Rheum in mine Eyes too, and fuch an ach in my Bones, that unless a Man were Curft, I cannot tell what to think on't. What fays fhe, there?

Troi. Words, Words, meer Words; no Matter from the Heart.

Th' Effect doth operate another way. [Tearing the Letter.
Go Wind to Wind, there turn and change together:
My Love with Words and Errors ftill the feeds;
But edifies another with her Deeds,

Pand. Why, but hear you

Troi. Hence, Brothel, Lacquy, Ignominy and Shame Pursue thy Life, and live ay with thy Name.

[Exeunt

SCENE IV. The Field between Troy and the Camp.

Alarum. Enter Therfites.

Ther. Now they are clapper-clawing one another, I'll go look on: That diffembling abominable Varlet, Diomede, has got that fime fcurvy, doating, foolish young Knave's Sleeve of Troy, there in his Helm: I would fain fee them meet, that, that fame young Trojan Afs, that loves the Whore there, might fend that Greekish Whore-masterly Villain, with the Skeve, back to the diffembling luxurious

Drab,

Drab, of a fleeveless Errant. O'th' t'other fide, the Policy of those crafty fwearing Rafcals, that ftale old Moufe-eaten dry Cheese, Neftor; and that fame dog-fox Vlyffes is not prov'd worth a Blackberry. They fet me up in Policy that mungril 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 began to proclaim Barbarifm, and Policy grows into an ill Opinion.

Enter Diomede and Troilus. Soft-here comes Sleeve, and t'other.

Troi. Fly not; for fhould'st thou take the River Styx, I would fwim after.

Dio. Thou doft mifcall Retire:

I do not fly, but advantageous care

Withdrew me from the odds of Multitude;
Have at thee.

[They go off fighting, Ther. Hold thy Whore, Grecian: Now for thy Whore, Trojon: Now the Sleeve, now the Sleeve, now the Sleeve. Enter Hector.

1

Hect. What art thou, Greek? art thou for Hector's match? Art thou of Blood and Honour?

Ther. No, no: I am a Rafcal; a fcurvy railing Knave; a very filthy Rogue.

Helt. I do believe thee-live.

[Exit.

Ther. God-a-mercy, that thou wilt believe me; but a plague break thy Neck- -for frighting me; what's be come of the wenching Rogues? I think, they have fwallowed one another. I would laugh at that Miracle yet in a fort, Letchery eats it felf: I'll feek them. [Exit

Enter Diomede and Servant.

Dio. Go, go, my Servant, take thou Troilus's Horfe,
Prefent the fair Steed to my Lady Creffid:

Fellow, commend my Service to her Beauty:
Tell her, I have chaftis'd the amorous Trojan,
And am her Knight by proof.

Ser. I go, my Lord.

Enter Agamemnon.

Aga. Renew, renew, the fierce Polydamus Hath beat down Menon: Baftard Margarelon

Hath

Hath Dorens Prifoner,

And ftands, Colossus wife, waving his Beam.
Upon the pathed coarfes of the Kings,
Epiftropus and Cedus: Polyxines is flain;
Amphimachus and Thous deadly hurt;
Patroclus ta'en or flain, and Palamedes
Sore hurt and bruifed; the dreadful Sagittary
Appals our Numbers, hafte we, Diomede,
To Reinforcement, or we perish all.

Enter Neftor.

Neft. Go bear Patroclus's Body to Achilles,
And bid the fnail'd-pac'd Ajax arm for fhame,
There are a thousand Hectors in the Field;
Now here he fights on Galathe his Horfe,
And there lacks work; anon he's there a-foot,
And there they fly or dye, like fcaled Sculls,
Before the belching Whale: Then is he yonder,
And there the straying Greeks, ripe for his edge,
Fall down before him, like the Mower's Swath;
Here, there, and every where, he leaves and takes ;
Dexterity fo obeying Appetite,

That what he will, he does, and does so much,
That Proof is call'd Impoffibility.

Enter Ulyffes;

Vlyf. Oh, Courage, Courage, Princes; great Achiller
Is arming, weeping, curfing, vowing Vengeance;
Patroclus's Wounds have rowz'd his drowfie Blood,
Together with his mangled Myrmidon's,

That nofelefs, handlefs, hackt and chipt, come to him,
Crying on Hector. Ajax hath loft his Friend,
And foams at Mouth, and he is arm'd, and at it,
Roaring for Troilus, who hath done to Day

Mad and fantaftick Execution,

Engaging and redeeming of himself,

With fuch a careless Force, and forcelefs Care,

As if that Luck in very spite of Cunning, bad him win alf,

Enter Ajax.

Ajax. Troilus, thou Coward, Troilus.

Dia. Ay, there, there.

Neft. So, fo, we draw together,