Would feem hyperboles. At this fufty stuff,
The large Achilles, on his preff'd bed lolling,
From his deep cheft laughs out a loud applause;
Cries, Excellent! 'tis Agamemnon juft.

Now play me Neftor; hem, and ftroak thy beard,
As he, being 'drest to some oration.

That's done; as near as the extreameft ends
Of parallels, like as Vulcan and his wife:
Yet good Achilles ftill cries, Excellent!
'Tis Neftor right: Now play him me, Patroclus,
Arming to answer in a night alarm.

And then, forfooth, the faint defects of age
Must be the scene of mirth; to cough, and fpit,
And, with a palsy fumbling on his gorget,
Shake in and out the rivet : and at this sport
Sir Valour dies; cries, O, enough, Patroclus;
Or give me ribs of fteel! I shall split all
In pleasure of my Spleen. And in this fashion
All our abilities, gifts, natures, fhapes,
Severals and generals of grace exact,
Atchievements, plots, orders, preventions,
Excitements to the field, or fpeech for truce,
Succefs, or lofs, what is, or is not, ferves
As ftuff for these two to make paradoxes.

NES. And in the imitation of these twain
(Whom, as Ulyffes fays, opinion crowns
With an imperial voice) many are infect.
Ajax is grown felf-will'd; and bears his head
In fuch a rein, in full as proud a place
As broad Achilles: keeps his tent like him;
Makes factious feasts; rails on our state of wara
Bold as an oracle: and fets Therfites

(A flave, whose gall coins flanders like a mint)
To match us in comparisons with dirt;

To weaken and difcredit our exposure,
How rank foever rounded in with danger.

Uir. They tax our policy, and call it cowardife; Count wisdom as no member of the war;

Foreftal prefcíence, and esteem no act

But that of hand: the still and mental parts,
That do contrive how many hands shall strike,
When fitnefs calls them on; and know, by measure
Of their observant toil, the enemies' weight,-
Why, this hath not a finger's dignity;

They call this-bed-work mappery, closet war:
So that the ram, that batters down the wall,
For the great fwing and rudeness of his poize,
They place before his hand that made the engine;
Or those, that with the fineness of their fouls
By reason guide his execution.

NES. Let this be granted, and Achilles' horfe
Makes many Thetis' fons.

[Trumpet heard. AGA. What trumpet's that? look, Menelaus. MEN. From Troy.

Enter ENEAS.

AGA. What would you 'fore our tent?

ENE. Is this great Agamemnon's tent, I pray you?

AGA. Even this.

ENE. May one, that is a herald, and a prince,

Do a fair meffage to his kingly ears?

AGA. With furety ftronger than Achilles' arm 'Fore all the Greekish heads, which with one voice Call Agamemnon head and general.

ENE. Fair leave, and large fecurity. How may

A ftranger to those most imperial looks
Know them from eyes of other mortals?
AGA. How?

ENE. I afk, that I might waken reverence,
And bid the cheek be ready with a blush
Modest as morning when the coldly eyes
The youthful Phabus:

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.

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 worthiness of praise diftains his worth, If that the prais'd himself bring the praise forth:

What the repining enemy commends,

That breath fame blows; that praise, fole pure, transcends. AGA. Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself Æneas? ENE. Ay, Greek, that is my name.

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

ENE. Sir, pardon; 'tis for Agamemnon's ears. [Troy.
AGA. He hears nought privately, that comes from
ENE. Nor 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:

4 I, I

That thou fhalt know, Trojan, he is awake,
He tells thee fo himself.

ENE. Trumpet, blow loud,

Send thy brafs voice through all these lazy tents ;.
And every Greek of mettle, let him know,
What Troy means fairly shall be spoke aloud.

[Trumpet founds. We have, great Agamemnon, here in Troy A prince called 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 purpose fpeak. Kings, princes, lords! If there be one, among the fair'ft of Greece, That holds his honour higher than his ease; That feeks his praise more than he fears his peril; That knows his valour, and knows not his fear; That loves his mistress more than in confeffion, (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 compafs in his arms; And will to-morrow with his trumpet call, Mid-way between your tents and walls of Troy, To rouze 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 splinter of a lance. Even fo much.

AGA. This fhall be told our lovers, lord Æneas ;

If none of them have foul in such a kind,
We left them all at home: But we are foldiers;
And may that foldier 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 Neftor, one that was a man
When Hector's grandfire fuck'd: he is old now;
But, if there be not in our Grecian hoft

One noble man, that hath one spark 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 grandame, and as chaft

As

I'll

may be in the world: His youth in flood, pawn this truth with my three drops of blood. ENE. Now heavens forbid fuch fcarcity of youth! AGA. Amen._

Fair lord Æneas, let me touch your hand;

To our pavilion fhall I lead you, fir.

Achilles fhall have word of this intent;

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

Yourself shall feast with us before you go,

And find the welcome of a noble foe.

ULr. Neftor,

[Exeunt All but Uly, and Nef.

NES. What fays Ulyffes?

ULY. I have a young conception in my brain,

Be you my time to bring it to fome shape.

NES.

What is't?

[pride

ULr. Blunt wedges rive hard knots: The feeded

19 v. Note.