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Conftring'd in mafs by the almighty Sun,
Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptune's ear
In his descent, than fhall my prompted fword
Falling on Diomede.

Ther. He'll tickle it for his concupy.

Troi. O Crefid! O falfe Creffid! false, false, false! Let all untruths ftand by thy ftained name, And they'll feem glorious.

Ulyf. O, contain yourself: Your paffion draws ears hither.

Enter Æneas.

Ene. I have been feeking you this hour, my lord, Hector, by this, is arming him in Troy.

Ajax, your guard, stays to conduct you home. Troi. Have with you, Prince; my courteous lord, adieu.

Farewel, revolted fair: and, Diomede,

Stand faft, and wear a castle on thy head!
Ulyf. I'll bring you to the gates.

Troi. Accept distracted thanks.

[Exeunt Troilus, Æneas, and Ulyffes: Ther. 'Would, I could meet that rogue Diomede, ! would croak like a raven: I would bode, I would bode. Patroclus will give me any thing for the intel ligence of this whore: the parrot will do no more for an almond, than he for a commodious drab : letchery, letchery, ftill wars and letchery, nothing else holds fashion. A burning devil take them!

[Exit.

SCENE

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And.

Changes to the Palace of Troy.

Enter Hector and Andromache.

WHEN was my lord so much ungently

temper'd,

To ftop his ears against admonishment?
Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to day.

Helt. You train me to offend you; get you gone:
By all the everlafting Gods, I'll go.

And. My dreams will, fure, prove ominous to day.
Helt. No more, I fay.

Enter Caffandra.

Caf. Where is my brother Hector?

And. Here, fifter, arm'd, and bloody in intent:
Confort with me in loud and dear petition;
Pursue we him on knees; for I have dreamt
Of bloody turbulence; and this whole night
Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of flaughter.
Caf. O, 'tis true.

Het. Ho! bid my trumpet found.

Caf. No notes of fally, for the heav'ns, fweet brother.
Helt. Be gone, I fay: the Gods have heard me fwear.
Caf. "The Gods are deaf to hot and peevish
σε Vows;

"They are polluted offerings, more abhorr'd
"Than spotted livers in the facrifice.

And. O! be perfwaded, do not count it holy

To hurt by being juft; it were as lawful

For us to count we give what's gain'd by thefts,
And rob in the behalf of charity.

Caf. It is the purpose that makes strong the vow;
But vows to every purpose must not hold:
Unarm, fweet Hector.

Heat.

1

Het. Hold you ftill, I say;

Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate;
Life every man holds dear, but the brave man
Holds honour far more precious-dear than life.
Enter Troilus.

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

[Exit Caffandra. Hect. No, faith, young Troilus; doff thy harness, youth:

I am to day i' th' vein of chivalry :

Let grow thy finews 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 you;
Which better fits a lion, than a man.

Hect. What vice is that? good Troilus, chide me
for it.

Troi. When many times the caitiff Grecians fall, Ev'n in the fan and wind of your fair sword, You bid them rife, and live.

Helt. O, 'tis fair play.

Troi. Fools play, by Heaven, Hector.
Helt. How now? how now?

Troi. For love of all the Gods,

Let's leave the hermit Pity with our mothers;
And when we have our armour buckled on,
The venom'd vengeance ride upon our fwords,
Spur them to rueful work, rein them from ruth.

6 When mauy times the CAPTIVE Grecians fall,] This reading fuppofes Hector infulting over his captives, which is not Troilus's meaning: who is here fpeaking of Hector's actions in the field. Without doubt Shakespear wrote,

When many times the caitiff Grecians fall, i. e. dastardly Grecians; a character natural for the speaker to give them, and juftified by his account of them.

Hell.

Het. Fie, favage, fie!

Troi. Hector, thus 'tis in wars.

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

Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars
Beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire;
Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees,

Their eyes o'er-galled 7 with recourse of tears;
Nor you, my brother, with your true fword drawn
Oppos'd to hinder me, should stop my way,
But by my ruin.

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Enter Priam and Caffandra.

Caf. Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him faft: He is thy crutch; now if thou lose thy Stay, Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee, Fall all together.

Priam. Hector, come, go back:

Thy wife hath dreamt; thy mother hath had vifions; Caffandra doth foresee; and I myself

Am, like a prophet, fuddenly enrapt

To tell thee, that this day is ominous :
Therefore come back.

Helt. Eneas is a-field,

And I do ftand engag'd to many Greeks,
Ev'n in the faith of valour, to appear
This morning to them.

Priam. But thou shalt not go.

Helt. 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.

7

with recourfe of tears;] i. e. tears that continue to courfe one another down the face.

Caf.

Caf. O, Priam, yield not to him.

And. Do not, dear father.

Helt. Andromache, I am offended with you.

Upon the love you bear me, get you in. [Exit And: Troi. This foolish, dreaming, fuperftitious girl Makes all these bodements.

Caf. O farewel, dear Hector:

Look, how thou dieft; look, how thy eyes turn pale!
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, diftraction, frenzy and amazement,
Like witless anticks, one another meet,
And all cry, Hector, Hector's dead! O Hector!
Troi. Away! -Away!-

Caf. Farewel: yet, foft: Hector, I take my leave; Thou do'ft thyself 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 worth praife, and tell you them at night. Priam. Farewel: the Gods with fafety stand about thee! [Alarum. Troi. They're at it, hark: proud Diomede, believe, I come to lose my arm, or win my sleeve.

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Pan. Do you hear, my lord, do you hear?
Troi. What now?

Pan. Here's a letter come from yond poor girl.
Troi. Let me read.

Pan. 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' these days; and I have a rheum in mine eyes too, and fuch an ach in my bones that unless a man were

curft,

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