Which is that God in office, guiding men?
Which is the high and mighty Agamemnon?
Aga. This Trojan fcorns us, or the men of Troy
Are ceremonious courtiers.
Ene. Courtiers as free, as debonair, unarm'd,
As bending angels; that's their fame in peace :
But when they would feem foldiers, they have galls,
Good arms, ftrong joints, true fwords; and Jove's accord,
Nothing fo full of heart. But peace, Æneas,
Peace, Trojan, lay thy finger on thy lips;
"The worthinefs of praife diftains his worth,
If he that's prais'd, himself bring the praise forth:
What the repining enemy commends,
That breath fame blows, that praise fole pure tranfcends.
Aga. Sit, you of Troy, call you your felf Æneas?
Ene. Ay, Greek, that is my name.
Aga. What's your affair, I pray you?
Ene. Sir, pardon, 'tis for Agamemnon's ears.
Aga. He hears nought privately that comes from Troy.
Ene. And I from Troy come not to whisper him,
I bring a trumpet to awake his ear,
To fet his fenfe on the attentive bent,
And then to speak.
Aga. Speak frankly as the wind,
It is not Agamemnon's fleeping hour;
That thou shalt know, Trojan, he is awake,
He tells thee fo himself.
Ene. Trumpet, blow loud:
Send thy brafs voice thro' all these lazy tents;
And every Greek of mettle, let him know
What Troy means fairly shall be spoke aloud.
We have, great Agamemnon, here in Troy
A Prince call'd Hector, (Priam is his father)
Who in this dull and long-continu'd truce
Is rufty grown; he bad me take a trumpet,
And to this purpofe fpeak: Kings, Princes, Lords,
If there be one amongst the fair'ft of Greece,
That holds his honour higher than his eafe,
That feeks his praife more than he fears his peril,
That knows his valour and knows not his fear,
That loves his mistress more than in profeffion
With truant vows to her own lips he loves,
And dares avow her beauty and her worth
In other arms than hers: to him this challenge.
Hector, in view of Trojans and of Greeks,
Shall make it good, or do his best to do it.
He hath a Lady, wifer, fairer, truer,
Than ever Greek did compass in his arms;
And will to-morrow with his trumpet call,
Midway between your tents and walls of Troy,
To rowze a Grecian that is true in love.
If any come, Hector fhall honour him:
If none, he'll fay in Troy when he retires,
The Grecian dames are fun-burnt, and not worth
The fplinter of a lance ;-
-even fo much.
Aga. This fhall be told our lovers, Lord Æneas.
If none of them have foul in fuch a kind,
We've left them all at home: but we are foldiers;
And may that foldier a meer recreant prove,
That means not, hath not, or is not in love!
If then one is, or hath, or means to be,
That one meets Hector; if none elfe, I'm he.
Neft. Tell him of Neftor; one that was a man
When Hector's grandfire fuckt; he is old now,
But if there be not in our Grecian hoft
One nobleman that hath one fpark of fire,
To answer for his love: tell him from me,
I'll hide my filver beard in a gold beaver,
And in my vantbrace put this wither'd brawn,
And meeting him, will tell him, that my Lady
Was fairer than his grandam, and as chaste
As may be in the world, his youth in flood,
I'll pawn this truth with my three drops of blood.
Ene. Now heav'ns forbid fuch scarcity of youth!
Ulyf. Amen!
Aga. Fair Lord Eneas, let me touch your hand:
To our pavilion fhall I lead you firft:
Achilles fhall have word of this intent,
So fhall each Lord of Greece from tent to tent:
Your felf fhall feaft with us before you go,
And find the welcome of a noble foę.
SCENE VII. Manent Ulyffes and Neftor. Ulyf. Neftor!
Neft. What fays Ulysses ?
Ulyf. I have a young conception in my brain,
Be you my time to bring it to fome fhape.
Neft. What is't?
Blunt wedges rive hard knots; the feeded pride
That hath to this maturity blown up
In rank Achilles, muft or now be cropt,
Or, fhedding, breed a nursery of like evil
To over-bulk us all.
Neft. Well, and how now ?
Ulyf. This challenge that the valiant. Hector fends, However it is fpread in general name,
Relates in purpofe only to Achilles,
Neft. The purpofe is perfpicuous even as fubftance, Whofe groffnefs little characters fum up:
And in the publication, make no strain,
But that Achilles, were his brain as barren
As banks of Libya, (tho', Apollo knows,
'Tis dry enough,) will with great fpeed of judgment, Ay, with celerity, find Hector's purpose
Ulyf. And wake him to the anfwer, think you?
Neft. Yes,
It is moft meet; whom may you elfe oppofe
That can from Hector bring his honour off,
If not Achilles? though a sportful combat
Yet in this tryal much opinion dwells.
For here the Trojans tafte our dear'st repute
With their fin'ft palate truft to me, Ulyffes,
Our imputation fhall be odly pois'd
In this wild action. For the fuccefs,
Although particular, fhall give a scantling
Of good or bad unto the general;
And in fuch indexes, although fmall pricks
To their fubfequent volumes, there is feen
The baby figure of the giant-mafs
Of things to come, at large. It is fuppos'd,
He that meets Hector iffues from our choice;
And choice being mutual act of all our fouls,..
Makes merit her election; and doth boil
As 'twere from forth us all, a man diftill'd
Out of our virtues; who mifcarrying,
What heart from hence receives the conqu'ring part
To steel a strong opinion to themselves!
Which entertain'd, limbs are his inftruments,
In no lefs working, than are fwords and bows
Directive by the limbs.
Ulyf. Give pardon to my speech;
Therefore 'tis fit Achilles meet not Hector.
Let us, like merchants, fhew our fouleft wares,
And think perchance they'll fell if not, why still
The luftre of the better, yet to fhew,
Shall fhew the better. Do not then confent
That ever Hector and Achilles meet:
For both our honour and our fhame in this
Are dogg'd with two ftrange followers.
Neft. I fee them not with my old eyes: what are they?
Ulys. What glory our Achilles fhares from Hector,
Were he not proud, we all fhould fhare with him:
But he already is too infolent;
And we were better parch in Africk Sun
Than in the pride and falt fcorn of his eyes,
Should he 'fcape Hector fair. If he were foil'd,
Why then we did our main opinion crush
In taint of our best inan. No, make a lott'ry,
And by device let blockish Ajax draw
The fort to fight with Hector : 'mong our felves,
Give him allowance as the worthier man,
For that will phyfick the great Myrmidon
Who broils in loud applaufe, and make him fall
His creft, that prouder than blue Iris bends.
If the dull brainlefs Ajax come fafe off,
We'll dress him up in voices: if he fail,
Yet go we under our opinion ftill,
That we have better men. But hit or miss,
Our project's life this fhape of fenfe affumes,
Ajax imploy'd plucks down Achilles' plumes.
Neft. Ulyffes, now I relish thy advice,
And I will give a taste of it forthwith
To Agamemnon; go we to him ftraight;
Two curs fhall tame each other; pride alone
Muft tar the maftiffs on, as 'twere their bone. [Exeunt.
the General run? were not that a botchy core?
Ther. Then there would come fome matter from him: I fee none now.
Ajax. Thou bitch-wolf's fon, canft thou not hear? feel then.
[Strikes bim Ther. The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mungrel beef-witted Lord!
Ajax. Speak then, thou whinnid'st baven, speak, or I will beat thee into handfomnefs.
Ther. I fhall fooner rail thee into wit and holiness; but I think thy horfe will fooner con an oration, than thou, learn a prayer without book: thou canft ftrike, canft thou a red murrain o' thy jades tricks!
Ajax. Toads-ftool! learn me the proclamation.
Ther. Doft thou think I have no fenfe, thou ftrik'ft me thus ?
Ajax. The proclamation
Ther. Thou art proclaim'd a fool, I think.
Ajax. Do not, porcupine, do not; my fingers itch. Ther. I would thou didst itch from head to foot, and I had the scratching of thee; I would make thee the loathfom'ft fcab in Greece.
Ajax. I fay, the proclamation
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