Enter Achilles.

Achil. Where is this Hector?

Come, come, thou Boy-killer, fhew thy Faces
Know what it is to meet Achilles angry.

Hector, where's Hector? I will none but Hector.

Enter Ajax.

[Exit

Ajax. Troilus, thou Coward Troilus, fhew thy Head.

Enter Diomede.

Dio. Troilus, I fay, where's Troilus?

Ajax. What wouldst thou

Die. I would correct him.

Ajax. Were I the General,
Thou should't have my Offices.

E'er that Correction: Troilus, Ifay, what,Troiluss
Enter Troilus.

Troi. Oh Traitor Diomede!
Turn thy falfe Face, thou Traitor,

And pay thy Life, thou oweft me for my Horfe!
Dio. Ha, art thou there?

Ajax. I'll fight with him alone, ftand, Diomede

Dio. He is my prize, I will not look upon.

Troi. Come, both you cogging Greeks, have at you both. [Exeunt fighting.

Enter Hector..

Helt. Yea, Troilus? O well fought, my youngest Brother.

Enter Achilles.

Achil. Now do I fee thee; have at thee, Hector.
Helt. Paufe, if thou wilt..

Achil. I do difdain thy Courtefie, proud Trojan,

Be happy that my Arms are out of use:
My reft and negligence befriend thee now,
But thou anon fhalt hear of me again:

2

Till when, go feek thy Fortune.

Hect. Fare thee well;

I would have been much more a fresher Man,
Had I expected thee; how now, my Brother?
Enter Troilus.

Troi. Ajax hath ta'en Æneas; shall it be?
No, by the flame of yonder glorious Heav'n
He shall not carry him: I'll be taken too,

[Fight.

Or

Or bring him off: Fate, hear me what I fay;

I wreak not, though thou end my Life to Day,

Enter one in Armour.

Het. Stand, ftand, thou Greek,

Thou art a goodly Mark:

No? wilt thou not? I like thy Armour well,
I'll fruth it, and unlock the Rivets all,

[Exit.

But I'll be Mafter of it; wilt thou not, Beaft, abide?
Why then fly on, I'll hunt thee for thy Hide.

Enter Achilles with Myrmidons.

Achil. Come here about me, you my Myrmidons.
Mark what I fay, attend me where I wheel;
Strike not a Stroke, but keep your felves in Breath;
And when I have the bloody Hector found,
Empale him with your Weapons round about?
In felleft manner execute your Arms,
Follow me, Sirs, and my proceeding Eye:
It is decreed-Hector the Great muft die.

[Exit.

[Exe

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. [Exit Paris and Menelaus.

Enter Baftard.

Baft. Turn, Slave, and fight.

Ther. What art thou?

Baft. A Baftard Son of Priam's.

Ther, I am a Baftard too, I love Baftards, I am a Baftard begor, Baftard inftructed, Baftard in Mind, Bastard in Valour, in every thing Illegitimate: One Bear will not bite another, and wherefore fhould one Baftard? Take heed, the Quarrel's moft ominous to us: If the Son of a Whore fight for a Whore, he temps Judgment: Farewel, Baftard.

Baft. The Devil take the Coward.
Enter He&or.

Hect. Moft putrified Core! fo fair without
Thy goodly Armor thus hath coft thy Life.
Now is my day's work done; I'll take good Breath:
Reft Sword, thou haft thy fill of Blood and Death.

[Exeunt.

Enter

Enter Achilles, and his Myrmidons.
Achil. Look, Hector, now the Sun begins to fet;
How ugly Night comes breathing at his Heels:
Even with the veil and darking of the Sun,
To close the Day up, Hector's Life is done,

[They fall upon Hector and kill him,
Hest. I am unarm'd, forego this vantage, Greek.
Achil. Strike, Fellows, ftrike, this is the Man I Teck.
So, Ilion, fall thou: Now, Troy, fink down:
Here lies thy Heart, thy Sinews and thy Bone.
On, Myrmidons, cry you all amain,
Achilles hath the mighty Hector, flain.

Hark, a Retreat upon our Grecian part.

[Exeunti

Myr. The Trojan Trumpets found the like, my Lord. Achil. The dragon Wing of Night o'erfpreads the Earth, And, Stickler-like, the Armies feparates;

My half fupt Sword, that frankly would have fed,
Pleas'd with this dainty Bit, thus goes to Bed.
Come, tye his Body to my Horfe's Tail:

Along the Field, I will the Trojan trail.

[Sound Retreat.

[Exeunt.

Shout.

Enter Agamemnon, Ajax, Menelaus, Neftor, Diomede, and the rest marching.

Aga. Hark, hark, what fhout is that?

Neft. Peace, Drums.:

Sol. Achilles! Achilles! Hector's flain, Achilles!
Dio. The Bruit is, Hector's flain, and by Achilles.
Ajax. If it fo, yet braglefs let it be:

Great Hector was as good a Man as he.

Aga. March patiently along; let one be fent
To pray Achilles fee us at our Tent.

If in his Death the Gods have us befriended,
Great Troy is ours, and our sharp Wars are ended.

[Exeunt

Enter Eneas, Paris, Antenor and Deiphobus. Ane. Stand ho, yet are we Masters of the Field, Never go home, here ftarve we out the Night. Enter Troilus,

Troi. Hector is flain.

All. Hector!-the Gods forbid!

Troi He's dead, and at the Murtherer's Horfe's Tail,
In beaftly fort dragg'd through the fhameful Field.
Frown on, you Heav'ns, effect your rage with speed;
Sit Gods upon your Thrones, and fmile at Troy.
I fay at once, let your brief Plagues be Mercy,
And linger not our fure Deftructions on.

Ane. My Lord, you do discomfort all the Hoft.
Troi. You understand me not, that tell me fo:
I do not speak of flight, of fear, of Death,
But dare all imminence, that Gods and Men
Addrefs their Dangers in. Hector is gone:
Who fhall tell Priam fo? or Hecuba?
Let him that will a Scrietch-Owl ay be call'd,
Go in to Troy, and fay there, Hector's dead:
There is a word will Priam turn to Stone;
Make Wells, and Niobes of the Maids and Wives
Cool Statues of the Youth; and, in a Word,
Scare Troy out of it felf. 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 rife, as early as he dare,

I'll through and through you. And thou great fiz'd Coward
No space of Earth fhall funder our two Hates,

I'll haunt thee, like a wicked Confcience ftill,

That mouldeth Goblings fwift as Frenfies thoughts,
Strike a free march to Troy, with comfort go:
Hope of revenge fhall hide our inward Woe.

Enter Pandarus.

Pan. But hear you, hear you?

Troi. Hence, Brothel, Lacky, Ignominy and Shame,

[Strikes him. Purfue thy Life, and live aye with thy Name. [Exeunt. ·Pan A goodly med'cine for mine aking Bones: Oh World! World! World! thus is the poor Agent defpis'd: Oh, Traitors and Bawds; how earnestly are you fet at Work, and how ill requited? why fhould our Endeavour be fo defir'd, and the Performance fo loath'd? What Verse for it? what inftance for it?Let me fee

Full

Full merrily the Humble Bee doth fing,
Till he hath loft his Hony and his Sting;
But being once fubdu'd in armed Tail,
Sweet Hony and fweet Notes together fail.

Good Traders in the Flefh, fet this in your painted Cloaths;
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 aking Bones.
Brethren and Sifters of the hold-door Trade,
Some two Months hence, my Will fhall here be made t
It should be now, but that my fear is this,
Some galled Goofe of Winchester would hifs;
'Till then, I'll fwear, and feeek about for Eafes,
And at that time bequeath you my Diseases.

[Exeunt.