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Aga.

How?

En. Ay;

I ask, that I might waken reverence,
And bid the cheek be ready with a blush
Modest as morning, when she coldly eyes
The youthful Phœbus.

Which is that god in office, guiding men?
Which is the high and mighty Agamemnon?
Aga. This Trojan scorns us, or the men of Troy
Are ceremonious courtiers.

En. Courtiers as free, as debonair, unarm'd,
As bending angels; that's their fame in peace:
But when they would seem soldiers, they have

galls,

Good arms, strong joints, true swords; and, Jove's

accord,

Nothing so full of heart. But peace, Æneas;

Peace, Trojan; lay thy finger on thy lips!
The worthiness of praise disdains his worth,
If that the praised himself bring the praise forth;
But what the repining enemy commends,

That breath fame follows; that praise, sole pure, transcends.

Aga. Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself Æneas? En. Ay, Greek, that is my name.

Aga.

What's your affair, I pray you?

En. Sir, pardon; 'tis for Agamemnon's ears.

Aga. He hears naught privately, that comes from

Troy.

En. Ncr I from Troy came not to whisper him : I bring a trumpet to awake his ear;

To set his sense on the attentive bent,

And then to speak.

Aga.

Speak frankly as the wind:

It is not Agamennon's sleeping hour:

That thou shalt know, Trojan, he is awake,
He tells thee so himself.

En.

Trumpet, blow loud;

Send thy brass voice through all these lazy tents ;-
And every Greek of mettle, let him know,
What Troy means fairly, shall be spoke aloud.
[trumpet sounds.
We have, great Agamemnon, here in Troy
A prince call'd Hector, (Priam is his father)
Who in this dull and long-continued truce
Is rusty grown: he bade me take a trumpet,
And to this purpose speak :-Kings, princes, lords!
If there be one, among the fairest of Greece,
That holds his honor higher than his ease;

That seeks his praise more than he fears his peril;
That knows his valor, and knows not his fear;
That loves his mistress more than in confession,
(With truant vows to her own lips he loves)
And dare 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, wiser, 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 rouse a Grecian that is true in love:

If any come, Hector shall honor him;

If none, he 'll say in Troy, when he retires,
The Grecian dames are sun-burn'd, and not worth
The splinter of a lance. Even so much.

Aga. This shall be told our lovers, lord Æneas:
If none of them have soul in such a kind,
We left them all at home. But we are soldiers;
And may that soldier a mere 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 else, I am he.

Nes. Tell him of Nestor, one that was a man When Hector's grandsire suck'd: he is old now; But, if there be not in our Grecian host

One noble man, that hath one spark of fire
To answer for his love;—tell him from me,-
I'll hide my silver beard in a gold beaver,
And in my vantbrace1 put this wither'd brawn;
And, meeting him, will tell him, that my lady
Was fairer than his grandame, and as chaste
As
may be in the world: his youth in flood,
I'll prove this truth with my three drops of blood.
En. Now heavens forbid such scarcity of youth!
Ulys. Amen.

Aga. Fair lord Æneas, let me touch your hand: To our pavilion shall I lead you, sir.

Achilles shall have word of this intent;

So shall each lord of Greece, from tent to tent:

Armour for the arm, avant-bras.

Yourself shall feast with us before you go,
And find the welcome of a noble foe.

Ulys. Nestor,

[Exeunt all but Ulysses and Nestor.

Nes. What says Ulysses?

Ulys. I have a young conception in my brain,
Be you my time to bring it to some shape.
Nes. What is 't?

Ulys. This 'tis :

Blunt wedges rive hard knots: the seeded pride
That hath to this maturity blown up

In rank Achilles, must or now be cropp'd,
Or, shedding, breed a nursery of like evil,
To overbulk us all.

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Ulys. This challenge that the gallant Hector sends,

However it is spread in general name,

Relates in purpose only to Achilles.

Nes. The purpose is perspicuous even as substance,

Whose grossness little characters sum up:
And, in the publication, make no strain,1
But that Achilles, were his brain as barren
As banks of Libya,-though, Apollo knows,
'Tis dry enough,-will, with great speed of judg-

ment,

Ay, with celerity, find Hector's purpose

Doubt, difficulty.

Pointing on him.

Ulys. And wake him to the answer, think you?

Nes.

It is most meet.

Whom may you else oppose

That can from Hector bring those honors off,

Yes,

If not Achilles? Though 't be a sportful combat,
Yet in the trial much opinion dwells;

For here the Trojans taste our dearest repute
With their finest palate. And trust to me, Ulysses,
Our imputation shall be oddly poised

In this wild action; for the success,
Although particular, shall give a scantling 1
Of good or bad unto the general;

And in such indexes, although small pricks
To their subsequent volumes, there is seen
The baby figure of the giant mass

1

Of things to come at large. It is supposed,
He, that meets Hector, issues from our choice:
And choice, being mutual act of all our souls,
Makes merit her election; and doth boil,

As 'twere from forth us all, a man distill'd
Out of our virtues; who miscarrying,

What heart receives from hence a conquering part,
To steel a strong opinion to themselves?

Which entertain'd, limbs are his instruments,
In no less working, than are swords and bows
Directive by the limbs.

1 Measure, proportion.

* Indexes, in Shakspeare's time, were prefixed to books.

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