SCENE XIII,

Enter Therfites, Menelaus, and Paris.

Ther. The cuckold, and the cuckold-maker are at it. Now bull, now dog. 'Loo, Paris, 'loo. My double hen'd fparrow. Loo, Paris, 'loo. The bull has the game; 'ware horns, ho.

[Exeunt Paris and Menelaus.

Enter Baftard.

Baft. Turn, flave, and fight.
Ther. What art thou?

Baft. A baftard fon of Priam's.

Ther. I am a baftard too, I love baftards. I am a baftard begot, baftard inftructed, baftard in mind, baftard in valour, in every thing illegitimate. One Bear will not bite another, and wherefore should one baftard? Take heed, the quarrel's most ominous to us: If the fon of a whore fight for a whore, he tempts judgment. Farewel, bastard.

Baft. The devil take thee, coward.

[Exeunt,

Het. Moft putrified core, fo fair without! Thy goodly armour thus hath coft thy life. Now is my day's work done; I'll take my breath: Reft, fword, thou haft thy fill of blood and death. [He puts up his fword.

Enter Achilles and his Myrmidons.

Achil. Look, Hector, how the fun begins to fet, How ugly night comes breathing at his heels;

Ev'n

(3) Ev'n with the vail and darkning of the Sun, To close the day up, Hector's life is done.

Hect. I am unarm'd. Forego this vantage, Greek. Achil. (4) Strike, fellows, ftrike, this is the man I

:

feek. [They fall upon Hector, and kill him. So Ilion fall thou next. Now, Troy, fink down Here lies thy heart, thy finews, and thy bone. On, Myrmidons, and cry you all amain, Achilles hath the mighty Hector flain.

Hark, a retreat upon our Grecian part.

Myr. The Trojan trumpets found the like, my Lord.

Achil. The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the earth;

And, ftickler-like, the armies separates.

My half-fupt fword, that frankly would have fed,
Pleas'd with this dainty bit, thus goes to bed.
Come, tie his body to my horse's tail :

Along the field I will the Trojan trail.

[Exeunt.

[Sound retreat. Shout.

Enter Agamemnon, Ajax, Menelaus, Neftor, Diomedes, and the reft marching.

Aga. Hark, hark, what shout is that?
Neft. Peace, drums.

Sol. Achilles! Achilles! Hector's flain! Achilles !
Dio. The bruit is, Hector's flain, and by Achilles.
Ajax. If it be fo, yet braglefs let it be:

Great Hector was as good a man as he.

Aga. March haftily along; let one be fent

To pray Achilles fee us at our Tent.

If in his death the Gods have us befriended,

Great Troy is ours, and our fharp wars are ended.

[Exeunt.

(3) Ev'n with the wail---] The vail is, I think, the finking of the fun; not veil or cover.

(4) Strike, fellows, frike,] This particular of Achilles overpowering Hector by numbers, and without armour, is taken from the old ftory-book. OXFORD EDITOR.

SCENE

SCENE XV.

Enter Eneas, Paris, Antenor and Deiphobus.

Ene. Stand, ho! yet are we mafters of the field; (5) Never go home, here ftarve we out the night.

Enter Troilus.

Troi. Hector is flain.

All. Hector!the Gods forbid!

Troi. He's dead, and at the murderer's horfe's tail
In beaftly fort dragg'd through the fhameful field.
Frown on, you heav'ns, effect your rage with speed;
Sit, Gods, upon your Thrones, and fmite at Troy!
I fay, at once, let your brief plagues be mercy,
And linger not our fure deftructions on.

Ene. My Lord, you do difcomfort all the Hoft.
Troi. You understand me not, that tell me fo:
I do not fpeak of flight, of fear, of death,
But dare all imminence, that Gods and men
Addrefs their dangers in. Hector is gone!
Who fhall tell Priam fo? or Hecuba ?
Let him that will a fcrietch owl ay be call'd,
Go into Troy, and fay there, Hector's dead :
That is a word will Priam turn to ftone;
Make wells and Niobes of the maids and wives
Cold ftatues 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 rife as early as he dare,

I'll through and through you. And thou, great-fiz'd
JANDA coward!

No fpace of earth fhall funder our two hates;

I'll haunt thee, like a wicked confcience still,
That mouldeth Goblins fwift as Frenzy's thoughts.

(5) This line is in the quarto given to Troilus.

-Strike

-Strike a free March to Troy! With comfort go;
Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe.

Enter Pandarus.

Pan. But hear you, hear you ?

Troi. Hence, (6) broker lacquey; ignominy, fhame

[Strikes him. Pursue thy life, and live ay with thy name! [Exeunt. Pan. A goodly med'cine for my aking bones! Oh world! world! world! thus is the poor agent defpis'd! Oh, traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you fet at work, and how ill requited? why fhould our endeavour be fo (7) lov'd, and the performance fo loath'd what verfe for it? what inftance for it ?-let me feeFull merrily the humble-bee doth fing, "Till he hath loft his honey and his fting; But being once fubdu'd in armed tail,

Sweet honey and fweet notes together fail.

Good traders in the flesh, fet this in your painted cloths

As many as be here of Fandar's Hall,

Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar's Fall;
Or if you cannot weep, yet give fome groans,
Though not for me, yet for your aking bones.
Brethren and fifters of the hold-door trade,
Some two months hence my will fhall here be made:
It should be now; but that my fear is this,
(8) Some galled goofe of Winchester would hifs:
'Till then, I'll (9) fweat, and feek about for eases;
And at that time bequeath you my diseases.

(6) So the quarto. The folio has Brother.
(7) Loved, quarto; defired, folio.

[Exit.

(8) Some galled goofe of Winchester-] The public stews were anciently under the jurifdiction of the bishop of Winchefter.

The lues venerea was called a Winchester goofe. (9)fweat,] Quarto; fwear, folio.

POPE.

Dr. GRAY.

THIS

HIS play is more correctly written than most of Shakespeare's compofitions, but it is not one of thofe in which either the extent of his views or elevation of his fancy is fully difplayed. As the story abounded with materials, he has exerted little invention; but he has diverfified his characters with great variety, and preferved them with great exactness. His vicious characters fometimes difguft, but cannot corrupt, for both Creffida and Pandarus are detefted and contemned. The comick characters seem to have been the favourites of the writer, they are of the fuperficial kind, and exhibit more of manners than nature, but they are copioufly filled and powerfully impreffed.

Shakespeare has in his ftory followed for the greater part the old book of Caxton, which was then very po pular; but the character of Therfites, of which it makes no mention, is a proof that this play was written after Chapman had published his verfion of Homer.

The END of the NINTH VOLUME.