Nest. Go, bear Patroclus' body to Achilles ; And bid the snail-pac'd Ajax arm for shame. There is a thousand Hectors in the field: Now here he fights on Galathe his horse, And there lacks work; anon, he's there afoot, And there they fly, or die, like scaled sculls Before the belching whale; then is he yonder, And there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge, Fall down before him, like the mower's swath. Here, there, and every where, he leaves, and takes;

Dexterity so obeying appetite,

That what he will, he does; and does so much,
That proof is call'd impossibility.

Enter ULYSSES.

Ulyss. O courage, courage, princes! great Achilles

Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance; Patroclus' wounds have rous'd his drowsy blood, Together with his mangled Myrmidons.

Ajax. Were I the general, thou should'st have

my office

Ere that correction:

Troilus!

Troilus, I say! what,

Enter TROILUS.

Tro. O traitor Diomed!

thou traitor,

turn thy false face,

And pay thy life thou ow'st me for my horse!
Dio. Ha! art thou there?

Ajax. I'll fight with him alone: stand, Diomed.
Dio. He is my prize. I will not look upon.
Tro. Come both, you cogging Greeks; have at
you both.
[Exeunt fighting.

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 taken too,

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 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 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.

- Another Part of the Field. Enter ENEAS and Trojans.

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 night upon our Phrygian plains, Let Titan rise as early as he dare, I'll through and through you! And thou, greatsiz'd 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 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. [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:

As many as be here of pander'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.

[Erit.

visitors.

I have, in this rough work, shap'd out a man,
Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug
With amplest entertainment: My free drift
Halts not particularly, but moves itself
In a wide sea of wax : no levell'd malice
Infects one comma in the course I hold;
But flies an eagle flight, bold, and forth on,
Leaving no tract behind.

Pain. How shall I understand you
Poet.
I'll unbolt to you.
You see how all conditions, how all minds,
(As well of glib and slippery creatures, as
Of grave and austere quality,) tender down
Their services to lord Timon: his large fortune,
Upon his good and gracious nature hanging,
Subdues and properties to his love and tendanc
All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-fac'd flatterer
To Apemantus, that few things loves better
Than to abhor himself: even he drops down
The knee before him, and returns in peace
Most rich in Timon's nod.

Pain.

I saw them speak together. Poet. Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill,

Feign'd Fortune to be thron'd: The base o' the

mount

Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures,
That labour on the bosom of this sphere
To propagate their states: amongst them all,
Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix'd,
One do I personate of lord Timon's frame,
Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her;
Whose present grace to present slaves and servants
Translates his rivals.

Pain.
'Tis conceiv'd to scope.
This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks,
With one man beckon'd from the rest below,
Bowing his head against the steepy mount
To climb his happiness, would be well express'd
In our condition.

By night frequents my house. I am a man
That from my first have been inclin'd to thrift;
And my estate deserves an heir more rais'd,
Than one which holds a trencher.

Tim.
Well; what further?
Old Ath. One only daughter have I, no kin else,
On whom I may confer what I have got :
The maid is fair, o' the youngest for a bride,
And I have bred her at my dearest cost,
In qualities of the best. This man of thine
Attempts her love: I pr'ythee, noble lord,
Join with me to forbid him her resort;
Myself have spoke in vain.

Tim.
The man is honest.
Old Ath. Therefore he will be, Timon:
His honesty rewards him in itself,

It must not bear my daughter.

Tim.

Does she love him?

Old Ath. She is young, and apt:
Our own precedent passions do instruct us
What levity's in youth.

Tim. [To LUCILIUS.] Love you the maid'
Luc. Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it.
Old Ath. If in her marriage my consent be missing,

I call the gods to witness, I will choose