479

curst, I cannot tell what to think on't. What fays fhe, there?

Troi. Words, words, meer words; no matter from
the heart:

Th' effect doth operate another way. [Tearing the letter.
Go, wind to wind; there turn and change together:
My love with words and errors ftill fhe feeds;
But edifies another with her deeds.

Pan. Why, but hear you

Troi. Hence, brothel-lacquey! ignominy and shame Pursue thy life, and live ay with thy name! [Exeunt.

Changes to the Field between Troy and the Camp.

[Alarum.] Enter Therfites.

Ther. N I'll go look on: that diffembling abomina

TOW they are clapper-clawing one another,

ble varlet, Diomede, has got that fame fcurvy, doating, foolish young knave's fleeve of Troy, there, in his helm: I would fain fee them meet; that, that fame young Trojan afs, that loves the whore there, might fend that Greekish whore-mafter villain, with the fleeve, back to the diffembling luxurious drab, of a fleeveless Errant. O'th' other fide, the policy of those crafty (a) fneering rafcals, that ftale old mouse-eaten dry cheese Neftor, and that fame dog-fox Ulyffes, is not prov'd worth a black-berry.--They fet me up in policy that mungril cur Ajax, against that dog of as bad a kind, Achilles. And now is the cur Ajax prouder than the cur Achilles, and will not arm to day: whereupon the Grecians begin to proclaim barbarism, and policy grows into an ill opinion.

[(a) fneering. Mr. Theobald-Vulg. swearing.]

Enter

Enter Diomede and Troilus.

Soft-here comes fleeve, and t'other.

Troi. Fly not; for should'st thou take the river Styx, I would fwim after.

Dio. Thou doft mifcall Retire:

I do not fly; but advantageous care

Withdrew me from the odds of multitude;

Have at thee!

[They go off, fighting. Ther. Hold thy whore, Grecian; now for thy whore, Trojan: now the fleeve, now the fleeve, now the sleeve!

Helt. What art thou, Greek! art thou for Hector's match?

Art thou of blood and honour?

Ther. No, no: I am a rafcal; a fcurvy railing knave; a very filthy rogue.

[Exit.

Helt. I do believe thee-live. Ther. God o' mercy, that thou wilt believe me; but a plague break thy neck for frighting me! What's become of the wenching rogues? I think, they have fwallowed one another. I would laugh at that miracleyet, in a fort, letchery eats it felf: I'll feek them. [Exit. Enter Diomede and Servant.

Dio. Go, go, my servant, take thou Troilus' horse, Present the fair Steed to my lady Creffid: Fellow, commend my service to her beauty: Tell her, I have chaftis'd the amorous Trojan, And am her knight by proof.

Ser. I go, my lord.

SCENE

Aga. Renew, renew: the fierce Polydamas
Hath beat down Menon: baftard Margarelon
Hath Doreus prisoner,

And ftands Coloffus-wife, waving his beam
Upon the pashed coarses of the Kings,
Epistropus and Odius. Polyxenus is flain;
Amphimachus and Thoas deadly hurt;
Patroclus ta'en or flain, and Palamedes
Sore hurt and bruis'd; the dreadful Sagittary
Appals our numbers: hafte we, Diomede,
To reinforcement, or we perish all.

Enter Neftor.

I

Neft. Go bear Patroclus' body to Achilles,
And bid the fnail-pac'd Ajax arm for fhame,
There are a thoufand Hectors in the field:
Now, here he fights on Galathe his horse,
And there lacks work; anon, he's there a-foot,
And there they fly or dye, like fcaled fhoals
Before the belching whale: then is he yonder,

8

baftard Margarelon] The introducing a bastard fon of Priam, under the name of Margarelon, is one of the circumstances taken from the story-book of The three Deftructions of Troy. Mr. Theobald.

the dreadful Sagittary

9 Appals our numbers: "Beyonde the Royalme of Ama "fonne came an auncyent Kynge, wyfe and dyfcreete, named Epyftrophus, and brought a M. Knyghtes, and a mervaylloufe "Belte that was called SAGITTARYE, that behynde the myddes was an horse, and to fore, a Man: This Belle was heery lyke an horse, and had his Eyen rede as a Cole, and fhotte well with a bowe: This Befte made the Grekes fore aferde, and flere many of them with his Bowe." The three Deftructions of Troy, printed by Caxton. Mr. Theobald. I on Galathe his horfe,] From the fame book is taken this name given to Hector's horse.

Mr. Theobald.

And

2

And there the ftrawy Greeks, ripe for his edge,
Fall down before him, like the mower's fwath;
Here, there, and ev'ry where, he leaves and takes;
Dexterity fo obeying appetite,

That what he will, he does; and does fo much,
That proof is call'd impoffibility.

Enter Ulyffes,

Ulyf. Oh, courage, courage, Princes; great Achilles Is arming, weeping, curfing, vowing vengeance; Patroclus' wounds have rowz'd his drowfie blood, Together with his mangled Myrmidons,

That nofeless, handlefs, hackt and chipt, come to him,
Crying on Hector. Ajax has loft a friend,
And foams at mouth; and he is arm'd, and at it,
Roaring for Troilus, who hath done to day
Mad and fantaftick execution;
Engaging and redeeming of himself,

With fuch a carelefs force, and forceless care,
As if that luck in very spite of cunning
Bad him win all.

Enter Achilles.

Achil. Where is this Hector?

Come, come, thou boy-killer, fhew me thy face:
Know, what it is to meet Achilles angry.

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

2 Greeks, ripe for his edge,

Fall down before him, like the mower's fwath; &c.] Tho' this old story-book was our poet's guide in the fable, yet nature led him up to the fublime images of Homer, whom want of learning kept him from acquaintance with.

Re-enter

Re-enter Ajax.

Ajax. Troilus, thou coward Troilus, fhew thy head!
Re-enter Diomede.

Dio. Troilus, I fay, 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 fay, what! Troilus?
Enter Troilus.

Troi. Oh, traitor Diomede! turn thy falfe face, thou
traitor,

And pay thy life, thou oweft me for my horse.
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.
Het. Paufe, if thou wilt.

[Fight. 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:

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?