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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 niost ominous to us: if the son of a whore fight for a whore, he tempts judgement: Farewell, bastard.
Mur. The devil take thee, coward! (Ereunt.
Another part of the field.
Hect. Most putrified 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!
(Puts off his helmet, and hangs his shield
Enter Achilles and Myrmidons.
Achil. Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set; How ugly night comes breathing at his heels: Even with the veil and dark’ning 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,
• Take not this advantage.
On, Myrmidons; and cry you all amain,
[A retreat sounded. Hark! a retreat upon our Grecian part. Myr. The Trojan trumpets sound the like, my
Iord, Achil. The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the
earth, And, stickler* like, the armies separates. My half-supp'd sword, that frankly t would have fed, Pleas'd with this dainty bit, thus goes to bed.
(Sheaths his sword. Come, tie his body to my horse's tail; Along the field I will the Trojan trail. (Exeunt.
Enter Agamemnon, Ajax, Menelaus, Nestor, Dio.
medes, and others, marching. Shouts within, Agam. Hark! hark! what shout is that? Nest.
Peace, drums. [Within.)
Achilles ! Achilles ! Hector's slain! Achilles !
Dio. The bruitf is-Hector's slain, and by Achilles.
Ajax. If it be so, yet bragless let it be; Great Hector was as good a man 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.
• An arbitrator at athletick games.
Another part of the field.
Enter Æneas 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. 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 beavens, 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!
Æne. My lord, you do discomfort all the host.
Tro. You understand me not, that tell me so:
Let Titan rise as early as he dare,
(Excunt Æneas and Trojans.
As Troilus is going out, enter from the other side,
Pan. But hear you, hear you !
Tro. Hence, broker lackey! ignomy* and shame Pursue thy life, and live ayet with thy name!
[Exit Troilus. Pan. A goodly med'cine for my 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 loved, and the performance so loathed? what verse for it? what instance for it? Let me see:
Full merrily the humble-bee doth sing,
Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail. Good traders in the fleshı, set this in your painted cloths I.
As many as be here of panders' ball,
• Ignominy. + Ever.
| Canvass hangings fur rooms, painted with en. blems and mottoes.
Brethren, and sisters, of the hold-door trade,
This play is more correctly written than most of Shakspeare's compositions, but it is not one of those in which either the extent of his views or elevation of his faucy is fully displayed. As the story abounded with materials, he has exerted little invention; but he has diversified his characters with great variety, and preserved them with great exactness. His vie cious characters disgust, but cannot corrupt, for both Cressida and Pandarus are detested and contemned. The comick characters seem to have been the favourites of the writer: they are of the superficial kind, and exhibit more of manners, than nature; but they are copiously filled, and powerfully impressed. Shakspeare has in his story followed, for the greater part, the old book of Caxtour, which was then very popular; but the character of Thersites, of which it makes no mention, is a proof that this play was written after Chapman had published his version of Homer,