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 t
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
Dexterity so obeying appetite,
[takes;
That what he will he does; and does so much,
That proof is call'd impossibility.

it,

Roaring for Troilus; who hath done to-day
Mad and fantastic execution;
Engaging and redeeming of himself,
With such a careless force, and forceless care,
As if that luck, in very spite of cunning,
Bade him win all.

Enter TROILUS.

Tro. O traitor Diomed!-turn thy false face thou traitor,

And pay thy life thou ow'st me for my horse!

Dio. Ha! art thou there ?

• Lance. : Shoal of fish,

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.

+ Brused, crushed.
Killer.

Enter HECTOR.

Hect. Yea, Troilus? Oh! well fought my youngest brother !

Enter ACHILLES.

Achil. Now do I see thee: Ha!-Have at thee, Hector.

Hect. Pause, if thou wilt.

Achil. I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Trojan.

Be happy, that my arms are out of use:
My rest and negligence befriend thee now,
But thou anon shalt hear of me again;
Till when go seek thy fortune.

[Erit.

Hect. Fare thee well :

I would have been much more a fresher man,
Had I expected thee.-How now, my brother ?
Re-enter TROILUS.

And when I have the bloody Hector found,
Empale him with your weapons round about;
In fellest manner execute ¶ your arms.
Follow me, Sirs, and my proceedings eye:

Enter AJAX.

Ajax. Troilus! thou coward Troilus! [Exit. It is decreed-Hector the great must die.
Dio. Ay, there, there.

[Exeunt.

་་

Nest. So, so, we draw together.

Mark what I say.-Attend me where I wheel: Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath;

Enter ACHILLES.

Achil. Where is this Hector?

Come, come, thou boy-queller, show thy face;

Ther. The cuckold, and the cuckold-maker are

tor.

Know what it is to meet Achilles angry.
Hector! where's Hector? I will none but Hec-at it: Now, buil! now, dog! 'Loo, Paris, 'loo! now
[Exeunt.
SCENE VI.-Another part of the Field.
Enter AJAX.

my double-henned sparrow I 'loo, Paris, 'loo! The
bull has the game :-'ware horns, ho!
[Exeunt PARIS and MENELAUS.
Enter MARGARELON.

jar. Troilus, thou coward Troilus, show thy
head!

SCENE VIII.-The same.

Enter MENAELAUS and PARIS, fighting: then
THERSITES.

Mar. A bastard son of Priam's.

Enter DIOMEDES.
Dio. Troilus, I say! where's Troilus?
Ajar. What would'st thou ?
Dio. I would correct him.

Ajar. Were I the general thou should'st
have my office,
[Troilus!
that correction:-Troilus, I say! what, quarrel's most ominous to us: if the son of a

Ther. I am a bastard too; I love bastards: 1 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

Employ

Mar. Turn, slave, and fight.
Ther. What art thou?

Not be a looken-on. 1 Prevail over. § Care.

+ Lying

J Burst.

whore fight for a whore, he tempts judgment : Farewell, bastard.

Mar. The devil take thee, coward!

[Exeunt.

SCENE IX.-Another part of the field.
Enter HECTOR.

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
deat!!

[Puts of 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 veil and dark'ning of the sun,
Te close the day up Hector's life is done.

Hect. I am unarm'd; forego this vantage,

Greek.

I seek.

:

Achil. Strike, fellows, strike; this is the man
[HECTOR falls.
So, Ilion, fall thou next! now, Troy, sink down;
Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone.
On, Myrmidons and cry you all amain,
Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.
[A Retreat sounded.
Hark! a retreat upon our Grecian part.
Myr. The Trojan trumpets sound the like,
my lord.
Achil. The dragon wing of night o'erspreads
the earth,

And, stickler like, the armies separates.
My half-supp'd sword, that frankly 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.

Tro. Hector is slain.

All. Hector?-The gods forbid !

Tro. He's dead; and at the murderer's horse's
tail,
[field.-
In beastly sort, dragg'd through the shamefu!
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 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 pight upon our Phrygian plains,
Let Titan rise as early as he dare,

I'll through and through you !—And thou great-
siz'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.

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 oue be

sent

To pray Achilles see us at our tent.-
If in his death the gods have us befriended,
Great Troy is our's, and our sharp wars are
ended.
[Exeunt, marching.
SCENE XI.-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.

cloths.

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.

[Exit.

• Ever.

Ever. + Pitched. t Ignominy. Canvas hangings for rooms painted with emblems

and mottos.

LITERARY AND HISTORICAL NOTICE.

THIS play, which contains many perplexed, obscure, and corrupt passages, was written about the year 1610, and was probably suggested by a passage in Plutarch's Life of Antony, wherein the latter professes to imitate the conduct of Timon, by retiring to the woods, and inveighing against the ingratitude of his friends. The finding of hidden gold, (see Act IV.) was an incident borrowed from a MS. play, apparently transcribed about the year 1600, and at one time in the possession of Mr. Strutt the antiquary. A building yet remains near Athens, called Timon's Tower. Phrynia, one of the courtezans whom Timon reviles so outrageously, was that exquisitely beautiful Phrine, who, when the Athenian Judges were about to condemn her for enormous offences, by the sight of her bosom disarmed the court of its severity, and secured her life from the sentence of the law. Alcibiades, known as a hero who, to the principles of a debauchee added the sagacity of a statesman, the iutrepidity of a general, and the humanity of a philosopher, is reduced to comparative insignificance in the present production. Its relative merits, as to action and construction, are succinctly pointed out by Johnson. He describes it as "a domestic tragedy, which strongly fastens on the attention of the reader. In the plan there is not much art; but the incidents are natural, and the characters various and exact. The catastrophe affords a very powerful warning against the ostentatious liberality, which scatters bounty, but confers no benefits, and buys dattery but not friendship."

TIMON OF ATHENS.

ler PORT,PAINTER, JEWELLER, MERCHANT, and others, at several Doors.

Peet. Good day, Sir.

Pain. I am glad you are well.
Poet. I have not seen you long. How goes

the world?

Pain. It wears, Sir, as it grows. Poet. Ay, that's well known: what particular rarity? what strange, ch manifold record not matches? See, c of bounty! all these spirits thy power conjar'd to attend. I know the merchant. in. I know them both; t'other's a jeweller. r. Oh! tis a worthy lord.

SCENE: Athens; and the Woods adjoining.

. Nay, that's most fix'd. 7. A most incomparable man; breath'd, *

as it were,

untirable and continuate goodness: asses. f

. I have a jewel here.

ured.

TWO SERVANTS of VARRO, and the SERVANT
of ISIDORE; two of Timon's Cre-
ditors.

+ Goes beyond common bounds.

CUPID, and MASKERS.
Three STRANGERS.

POET, PAINTER, JEWELLER, and MERCHANT.
AN OLD ATHENIAN.

A PAGE.

A FOOL.

PHRYNIA,

TIMANDRA, }Mistresses to Alcibiades.

Other Lords, Senators, Officers, Soldiers,
Thieves, and Attendants.

Mer. O pray let's see't: For the lord Timon
Sir?

Jew. If he would touch the estimate: But, for
that--

Poet. When we for recompense have prais'd
the vile,

It stains the glory in that happy verse
Which aptly sings the good.
Mer. 'Tis a good form.

[Looking at the Jewel. Jew. And rich: here is a water, look you. Pain. You are rapt, Sir, in some work, some dedication

To the great lord.

Poet. A thing slipp'd idly from me.
Our poesy is as a gum, which ooze

From whence 'tis nourished: The fire i'the flint
Shows not, till it be struck; our gentle flame
Provokes itself, and, like the current, flies

Each bound it chafes. What have you there?
Pain. A picture, Sir.-And when comes your
book forth?

Poet. Upon the heels of my presentment * Sir.
Let's see your piece.

Pain. 'Tis a good piece.
[lent.
Poet. So 'tis: this comes off well and excel-

As soon as my book has been presented to limon.
S

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, hold, 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 tend-

ance

All sorts of hearts; yea, foom 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. Ay, marry, what of these?

Poet. When Fortune in her shift and change of mood, [ants, Spurns down her late belov'd, all his dependWhich labour'd after him to the mountain's top, Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down, Not one accompanying his declining foot. Pain. 'Tis common:

A thousand moral paintings I can show

That shall demonstrate these quick blows of for

The contest of art with nature.

My poem does not allude to any particular character. + Explain. the looks of his patron. ditions of life.

tune

More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well,
To show lord Timon, that mean eyes ⚫ have
The foot above the head
[seen

And, being enfranchis'd, bid him to come to

me:

'Tis not enough to help the feeble up,
But to support him after.-Fare you well.
Ven. Serv. All happiness to your honour!

[Exit.

Enter an old ATHENIAN.
Old Ath. Lord Timon, hear me speak.
Tim. Freely, good father.

Old Ath. Thou hast a servant nam'd Lu.

cilius.

Tim. I have so: What of him?

Old Ath. Most noble Timon, call the man
before thee.

Tim. Attends he here, or no?-Lucilius !

Enter LUCILIUS.

Luc. Here, at your lordship's service.
Old Ath. This fellow here, lord Timon, this
thy creature,

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?

of it.

Old Ath. If in her marriage my consent be
missing,

I call the gods to witness, I will choose
Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world,
And dispossess her all.

Tim. How shall she be endow'd,
If she be mated with an equal husband?
Old Ath. Three talents, on the present; in
future, all.

Tim. This gentleman of mine hath serv'd me
long:

To build his fortune, I will strain a little,
Shewing, as a glass does by reflection, For 'tis a bond in men.
To advance their con-
Whisperings of officions servility.
Inhale.

Give him thy daughter:

• Inferior spectators.

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

Mer. No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue,

Which all men speak with him.

Tim. Look, who comes here. Will you be chid f

know'st them not. Apem. Are they not Athenians?

Tim. Yes.

Apem. Then I repent not.
Jew. You know me, Apemantus.
Apem. Thou know'st I do; I call'd thee by
thy name.

Tim. Thou art proud, Apemantus.
Apem. Of nothing so much, as that I am not

ike Timon.

Tim. Whither art going?
Apem. To knock out an honest Athenian's

Jains.

Tim. That's a deed thou'lt die for.
Apem. Right, if doing nothing be death by

law.

Tim. How likest thou this picture, Apemantus?
Apem. The best, for the innocence.
Tim. Wrought he not well, that painted it?
Apem. He wrought better, that made the pain-
and yet he's but a filthy piece of work.、
uin. Yon are a dog.

pem. Thy mother's of my generation : What's
if I be a dog?

im. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus? pem. No; I eat not lords.

Tim. An thou should'st, thou'dst anger ladies.

Apem. Oh they eat lords; so they come by great bellies.

Tim. That's a lascivious apprehension.

Apem. So thou apprehend'st it: Take it for thy fabour.

What they profess to be.

raw out the whole mass of my fortunes.

Tim. How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus?

which

Apem. Not so well as plain-dealing,
Will not cost a man a doit.

Tim. What dost thou think 'tis worth?

Apem. Not worth my thinking.-How now, poet?

Poet. How now, philosopher ?

Apem. Thou liest.
Poet. Art not one?

Apem. Yes.

Poet. Then I lie not.

Trumpets sound. Enter a SERVANT.
Tim. What trumpet's that?
Serv. 'Tis Alcibiades, and

Enter APEMANTUS.

Jew. We will bear with your lordship.

to us.

Mer. He'll spare none.

Some twenty horse, all of companionship. Tim. Pray, entertain them; give them guide [Exeunt some Attendants. Tim. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apeman-You must needs dine with me:-Go not you [done, have thank'd you; and, when dinner's [honest. Show me this piece. I am joyful of your When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves sights.Tim. Why dost thou call them knaves? thou

tus!

hence,

Apem. Till I be gentle, stay for thy good mor-Till

I

row;

Apem. Art not a poet?
Poet. Yes.

Apem. Then thou iiest: look in thy last
work, where thou hast feign'd him a worthy

fellow.

Poet. That's not feign'd, he is so.

Apem. Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy labour: He that loves to be flattered, is worthy o'the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord!

Tim. What would'st do then, Apemantus ?

Apem. Even as Apemautus does now, hate a lord with my heart.

Tim. What, thyself?

Apem. Ay.

Tim. Wherefore?

Apem. That I had no angry wit to be a lord.-
Art not thou a merchant ?

Mer. Ay, Apemantus.

Apem. Traffic confound thee, if the gods will

not !

Mer. If traffic do it, the gods do it.
Apem. Traffic's thy god, and thy god confound
thee !

Enter ALCIBIADES, with his Company.
Most welcome, Sir!
[They salute.

Apem. So, so; there!

Aches contract and starve your supple joints!-
That there should be small love 'mongst these
sweet knaves,
And all this court'sy! The strain of man's bred
Into baboon and monkey. +

[out

[feed

Alcib. Sir, you have sav'd my longing, and I
Most hungrily on your sight.
Tim. Right welcome, Sir:
Ere we depart, we'll share a bounteous time
In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in.
[Exeunt all but APEMANTUS.