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Alexander Pope [1747], The works of Shakespear in eight volumes. The Genuine Text (collated with all the former Editions, and then corrected and emended) is here settled: Being restored from the Blunders of the first Editors, and the Interpolations of the two Last: with A Comment and Notes, Critical and Explanatory. By Mr. Pope and Mr. Warburton (Printed for J. and P. Knapton, [and] S. Birt [etc.], London) [word count] [S11301].
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SCENE VII. Enter Priam and Cassandra.

Cas.
Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him fast:
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 visions;
Cassandra doth foresee; and I myself
Am, like a prophet, suddenly enrapt
To tell thee, that this day is ominous:
Therefore come back.

Hect.
Æneas is a-field,
And I do stand engag'd to many Greeks,
Ev'n in the faith of valour, to appear
This morning to them.

Priam.
But thou shalt not go.

Hect.
I must not break my faith:
You know me dutiful, therefore, dear Sir,
Let me not shame respect; but give me leave
To take that course by your consent and voice,
Which you do here forbid me, Royal Priam.

-- 478 --

Cas.
O, Priam, yield not to him.

And.
Do not, dear father.

Hect.
Andromache, I am offended with you.
Upon the love you bear me, get you in.
[Exit And.

Troi.
This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl
Makes all these bodements.

Cas.
O farewel, dear Hector:
Look, how thou diest; 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 shrills her dolour forth!
Behold, distraction, frenzy and amazement,
Like witless anticks, one another meet,
And all cry, Hector, Hector's dead! O Hector!

Troi.
Away!—Away!—

Cas.
Farewel: yet, soft: Hector, I take my leave;
Thou do'st 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 praise, and tell you them at night.

Priam.
Farewel: the Gods with safety 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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Alexander Pope [1747], The works of Shakespear in eight volumes. The Genuine Text (collated with all the former Editions, and then corrected and emended) is here settled: Being restored from the Blunders of the first Editors, and the Interpolations of the two Last: with A Comment and Notes, Critical and Explanatory. By Mr. Pope and Mr. Warburton (Printed for J. and P. Knapton, [and] S. Birt [etc.], London) [word count] [S11301].
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