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! Enter Achilles.

Achil. Now do I see thee; ha! have at thee, Hector!

Hect. Pause, if thou wilt.

Achil. I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Trojan:

Be happy that my arms are out of use:
My rest and negligence befriends thee now,
But thou anon shalt hear of me again;
Till when, go seek thy fortune.

Hect.

[Exit.

Fare thee well:

I would have been much more a fresher man,
Had I expected thee.

Re-enter Troilus.

How now, my brother!
Tro. Ajax hath ta'en Æneas: shall it be?
No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven,
He shall not carry him; I'll be ta'en too,
Or bring him off. Fate, hear me what I say!
I reck not though I end my life to-day.

Enter one in sumptuous armour.

Hect. 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,

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

Another part of the field.

Enter Achilles, with Myrmidons.
Achil. Come here about me, you my Myrmidons;
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 aims.

Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye:
It is decreed Hector the great must die.

[Exit.

[Exeunt.

[Exeunt.

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.

horns, ho!

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 judgement: farewell, bastard. Mar. The devil take thee, coward!

SCENE VIII

Another part of the field.
Enter Hector.

Hect. Most putrefied 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.

[Exit. [Exit.

[Puts off his helmet and hangs his shield behind him.
Enter Achilles and Myrmidons.

Achil. Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set;
How ugly night comes breathing at his heels:
Even with the vail and darking 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 retire 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,
Pleased with this dainty bait, thus goes to bed.

Come, tie his body to my horse's tail;
Along the field I will the Trojan trail.

[Sheathes his sword.

[Exeunt. A retreat sounded.

SCENE IX

Another part of the field.

Enter Agamemnon, Ajax, Menelaus, Nestor, Diomedes, and the rest, marching. Shouts within.

Agam. Hark! hark! what shout is that?

Nest. Peace, drums!

[Within] 'Achilles! Achilles! Hector's slain! Achilles !'
Dio. The bruit is, Hector's slain, and by Achilles.
Ajax. If it be so, yet bragless let it be;
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 X

Another part of the field.

[Exeunt, marching.

Enter Eneas, Paris, Antenor, and Deiphobus.
Ene. 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:
I 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 pight upon our Phrygian plains,
Let Titan rise as early as he dare,

I'll through and through you! and, thou great-sized 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's thoughts.
Strike a free march to Troy! with comfort go:
Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe.

[Exeunt Eneas 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! Pan. A goodly medicine for my aching bones!

[Exit.

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 loved 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;
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:
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 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.

TULLUS AUFIDIUS, general of the Vols

Lieutenant to Aufidius.
Conspirators with Aufidius.
A Citizen of Antium,

Two Volscian Guards.

VOLUMNIA, mother to Coriolanus.
VIRGILIA, wife to Coriolanus.

VALERIA, friend to Virgilia.

Gentlewoman attending on Virgilia.

Roman and Volscian Senators, Patricians, Ediles, Lictors, Soldiers, Citizens,
Messengers, Servants to Aufidius, and other Attendants.

SCENE: Rome and the neighbourhood; Corioli and the neighbourhood; Antium.

ACT I-SCENE I

Rome. A street.

Enter a company of mutinous Citizens, with staves,
clubs, and other weapons.

First Cit. Before we proceed any further, hear me speak.
All. Speak, speak.

First Cit. You are all resolved rather to die than to famish?
All. Resolved, resolved.

First Cit. First, you know Caius Marcius is chief enemy to the
All. We know 't, we know 't.
[people.
First Cit. Let us kill him, and we'll have corn at our own
price. Is 't a verdict?

All. No more talking on 't; let it be done: away, away!
Sec. Cit. One word, good citizens.

First Cit. We are accounted poor citizens; the patricians,
good. What authority surfeits on would relieve us: if they
would yield us but the superfluity while it were wholesome,
we might guess they relieved us humanely; but they think
we are too dear: the leanness that afflicts us, the object of
our misery, is as an inventory to particularize their abund-
ance; our sufferance is a gain to them. Let us revenge this
with our pikes, ere we become rakes: for the gods know
I speak this in hunger for bread, not in thirst for revenge.
Sec. Cit. Would you proceed especially against Caius Marcius?
All. Against him first: he's a very dog to the commonalty.
Sec. Cit. Consider you what services he has done for his
country?

First Cit. Very well; and could be content to give him good report for 't, but that he pays himself with being proud. Sec. Cit. Nay, but speak not maliciously.