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Ay, there, there.
Where is this Hector! Come, come, thou boy-queller, show thy face; Know what it is to meet Achilles angry. Hector! where 's Hector? I will none but Hector. [Exeunt.
SCENE VI. - Another Part of the Field.
AJAX. Troilus, thou coward Troilus, show thy head !
Enter DIOMEDES. Dio. Troilus, I say! where 's Troilus? AJAX.
What wouldst thou ? Dio. I would correct him.
AJAX. Were I the general, thou shouldst have my office Ere that correction :-Troilus, I say! what, Troilus!
Tro. O traitor Diomed !-turn thy false face, thou traitor, And pay thy life thou ow'st me for
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. Tro. Come both you cogging Greeks; have at you both.
[Exeunt fighting. Enter HECTOR. HECT. Yea, Troilus? O well fought, my youngest brother!
ACHIL. Now do I see thee:-Ha!-Have at thee, Hector.
ACHIL. I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Trojan.
I would have been much more a fresher man
TRO. Ajax hath ta'en Eneas: Shall it be?
Enter one in sumptuous armour.
HECT. Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou art a goodly
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?
Why then, fly on, I'll hunt thee for thy hide.
SCENE VII.-The same.
Enter ACHILLES, with Myrmidons.
ACHIL. Come here about me, you my Myrmidons;
Enter MENELAUS 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 [Exeunt PARIS and MENELAUS.
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 everything 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!
SCENE IX.-Another Part of the Field.
HECT. Most putrified core, so fair without,
[Puts off his helmet, and hangs his shield behind him.
Enter ACHILLES and Myrmidons.
ACHIL. Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set;
To close the day up, Hector's life is done.
HECT. I am unarm'd; forego this vantage, Greek.
So, Ilion, fall thou; 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 separate.
My half-supp'd sword that frankly would have fed,
Come, tie his body to my horse's tail;
Along the field I will the Trojan trail.
SCENE X.-The same.
[Sheaths his sword.
Enter AGAMEMNON, AJAX, MENELAUS, NESTOR, DIOMEDES, and others, marching. Shouts within.
AGAM. Hark! hark! what shout is that?
DIO. The bruit is-Hector's slain, and by Achilles.
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.
SCENE XI.-Another Part of the Field.
Enter ENEAS and Trojans.
ENE. Stand, ho! yet are we masters of the field: Never go home; here starve we out the night.
TRO. Hector is slain.
Hector? The gods forbid!
ENE. My lord, you do discomfort all the host.
TRO. You understand me not that tell me so:
I'll through and through you!-And thou, great-siz'd coward!
[Exeunt ÆNEAS and Trojans.
As TROILUS is going out, enter, from the other side, Pandarus.
PAN. But hear you, hear you!
TRO. Hence, broker lackey! ignomy and shame
Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name. [Exit TROILUS.
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 how ill requited! Why should our endeavour be so desired, 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:
Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted cloths.