The youthful Phoebus:

Which is that god in office, guiding men?
Which is the high and mighty Agamemnon?

Agam. This Trojan scorns 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 seem soldiers, they have galls,

Good arms, strong joints, true swords; and, Jove's accord,(33)
Nothing so full of heart. But peace, Æneas,

Peace, Trojan; lay thy finger on thy lips!
The worthiness of praise distains his worth,

If that the prais'd himself bring the praise forth:

But what the repining enemy commends,

That breath fame blows; that praise, sole pure, transcends. (34) Agam. Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself Æneas?

Ene. Ay, Greek, that is my name.

Agam. What's your affair, I pray you?

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

Agam. He hears naught privately that comes from Troy.

Ene. Nor I from Troy come not to whisper him:

I bring a trumpet to awake his ear;

To set his sense on the attentive bent,
And then to speak.

Agam.

Speak frankly as the wind;

It is not Agamemnon's sleeping hour:

That thou shalt know, Trojan, he is awake,

He tells thee so himself.

Trumpet, blow loud,

Ene.
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-continu'd truce
Is rusty grown: he bade me take a trumpet,
And to this purpose speak. Kings, princes, lords!
If there be one among the fair'st of Greece.
That holds his honour higher than his ease;

That seeks his praise more than he fears his peril ;
That knows his valour, 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;(35)
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 honour him;
If none, he'll say in Troy when he retires,
The Grecian dames are sunburnt, and not worth
The splinter of a lance. Even so much.

Agam. 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.

Nest. 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 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 prove this truth with my three drops of blood. Ene. Now heavens forbid such scarcity of youth! Ulyss. Amen.

Agam. Fair Lord Æneas, let me touch To our pavilion shall I lead you, sir. Achilles shall have word of this intent;

your

hand;

So shall each lord of Greece, from tent to tent:
Yourself shall feast with us before you go,

And find the welcome of a noble foe.

Ulyss. Nestor,

[Exeunt all except Ulysses and Nestor.

Nest. What says Ulysses?

Ulyss. I have a young conception in my brain;

Be you my time to bring it to some shape.

Nest. What is't?

Ulyss. 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.

Ulyss. This challenge that the gallant Hector sends, However it is spread in general name,

Relates in purpose only to Achilles.

Nest. The purpose is perspicuous even as substance,
Whose grossness little characters sum up:
And, in the publication, make no strain,
But that Achilles, were his brain as barren
As banks of Libya, though, Apollo knows,

'Tis dry enough,—will, with great speed of judgment, Ay, with celerity, find Hector's purpose

Pointing on him.

Ulyss. And wake him to the answer, think

Nest.

It is most meet: who may you else oppose,
That can from Hector bring his honour off,

you?

Yes,

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

For here the Trojans taste our dear'st repute
With their fin'st palate: and trust to me, Ulysses,
Our imputation(37) shall be oddly pois'd

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

And in such indexes, although small pricks

To their subséquent volumes, there is seen
The baby figure of the giant mass

Of things to come at large. It is suppos'd,
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 the conquering part,

To steel a strong opinion to themselves?

Which entertain'd, limbs are his(38) instruments,
In no less working than are swords and bows
Directive by the limbs.

Ulyss. Give pardon to my speech ;

Therefore 'tis meet Achilles meet not Hector.
Let us, like merchants, show our foulest wares,
And think, perchance, that they will sell ;(39) if not,

The lustre of the better yet to show,

Shall show the better. Do not, then, consent(40)

That ever Hector and Achilles meet;

For both our honour and our shame in this

Are dogg'd with two strange followers.

Nest. I see them not with my old eyes: what are they?

Ulyss. What glory our Achilles shares from Hector,
Were he not proud, we all should share with him:
But he already is too insolent;

And we were better parch in Afric sun

Than in the pride and salt scorn of his eyes,
Should he scape Hector fair: if he were foil'd,
Why, then we did our main opinion crush
In taint of our best man. No, make a lottery;
And, by device, let blockish Ajax draw
The sort to fight with Hector: 'mong ourselves
Give him allowance as the worthier man;
For that will physic the great Myrmidon
Who broils in loud applause, and make him fall
His crest that prouder than blue Iris bends.
If the dull brainless Ajax come safe off,
We'll dress him up in voices: if he fail,
Yet go we under our opinion still

That we have better men. But, hit or miss,
Our project's life this shape of sense assumes,—
Ajax employ'd plucks down Achilles' plumes.
Nest. Ulysses,

Now(41) I begin to relish thy advice;

And I will give a taste of it forthwith

To Agamemnon: go we to him straight.

Two curs shall tame each other: pride alone

Must tarre the mastiffs on, as 'twere their bone.

[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I. A part of the Grecian camp.

Enter AJAX and THERSITES.

Ajax. Thersites,—

Ther. Agamemnon,-how if he had boils,-full, all over, generally?—

Ajax. Thersites,

Ther. And those boils did run?-Say so,-did not the general run then? were not that a botchy core ?-(42)

Ajax. Dog,

Ther. Then would come some matter from him; I see

none now.

Ajax. Thou bitch-wolf's son, canst thou not hear? Feel, then. [Beating him. Ther. The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel beef-witted lord!

Ajax. Speak, then, thou vinewedst leaven, speak: I(43) will beat thee into handsomeness.

Ther. I shall sooner rail thee into wit and holiness: but, I think, thy horse will sooner con an oration than thou learn a prayer without book. Thou canst strike, canst thou? a red murrain o' thy jade's tricks!

Ajax. Toadstool, learn me the proclamation.