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A little proudly, and great deal misprizing
The Knight opposed.
Æne. If not Achilles, Sir,
What is your name?
schil. If not Achilles, nothing.
Æne. Therefore, Achilles: but whate'er, know In the extremity of great and little
[this, Valour and pride excel themselves in Hector; The one almost as infinite as all, The other blank as nothing; weigh him well; And that which looks like pride is courtesy. This Ajax is half made of Hector's blood, In love whereof, half Hector stays at home; Half heart, half hand, half Hector come to seek This blended knight, half Trojan and half Greek. Achil. A maiden-battle then? 0, 1 perceive you.
Aga. Here is Sir Diomede: go, gentle knight,
Stand by our Ajax; as you and Lord Æneas
Consent upon the order of the fight,
So be it; either to the uttermott,
Or else a breath. The combatants being kin
Half Itints their strife before their strokes begin.
Ulys. They are opposed already.
Aga. What Trojan is that same that looks fo.
Ulys. The youngest son of Priam, a true knight;
Not yet mature, yet matchless; firm of word;
Speaking in deeds, and deedless in his tongue;
Not foon provoked, nor, being provoked, foon
calmed ; His heart and hand both open, and both free;
point. I regulated the passage in the appendix to my Shakespeare Restored ; and Mr Pope has followed my regulation in his last edition of our Poet.
For what he has, he gives ; what thinks, he shews;
Yet gives he not till judgment guides his bounty ;
Nor dignifies an impair thought with breath:
Manly as Hector, but more dangerous ;
For Hector in his blaze of wrath subscribes
To tender objects; but he in heat of action
Is more vindicative than jealous love.
They call him Troilus, and on him erect
A second hope, as fairly built as Hector,
Thus fays Æneas, one that knows the youth
Even to his inches; and with private foul,
Did in great llion thus translate him to me.
[ Alarm. Hector and Ajax fight.
Aga. They are in action.
Neft. Now, Ajax, hold thine own.
Troi. Hector, thou sleepest, awake thee.
Aga. His blows are well disposed; there, Ajax.
Dio. You must no more.
Æne. Princes, enough, so please you,
Ajax. I am not warm yet, let us fight again.
Dio. As Hector pleases.
He&t. Why then, will I no more.
Thou art, great Lord, my father's sister's fon; (39)
A cousin-german to great Priam's feed :
The obligation of our blood forbids
A gory emulation 'twixt us twain.
Were thy commixion Greek and Trojan so,
That thou couldst say, this hand is Grecian all,
And this is Trojan; the finews of this leg
All Greek, and this all Troy; my mother's blood
Runs on the dexter cheek, and this finifter
Bounds in my fire's : by Jove multipotent,
(39) Thou art, great Lord, my father's sister's fon;] For Ajax, as well as Teucer, was the son of Hefione, who was the daughter of Laomedon, and lister of Priam,
Thou should'It not bear from me a Greekish mem-
Wherein my sword had not inpressure made [ber
Of our rank feud; but the just Gods gainsay,
That any drop thou borrowest from thy mother,
My facred aunt, should by my mortal sword
Be drained! Let me embrace thee, Ajax :
By him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms;
Hector would have them fall upon him thus-
Cousin, all honour to thee !...
Ajax. I thank thee, Hector !
Thou art too gentle and too free a man :
I came to kill thee, cousin, and bear hence
A great addition earned in thy death.
Helt. Not Neoptolemus fo mirable,
(On whose bright crest, Fame, with her loudel
Cries, 'This is he;) could promise to himself
A thought of added honour torn from Hector !
Æne. There is expectance here from both the sides,
What further you will do.
Hest. We'll answer it:
The issue is embracement: Ajax, farewel.
Ajax.-If I might in entreaties find success,
(As feld I have the chance) I would desire
My famous cousin to our Grecian tents.
Dio. 'Tis Agamemnon's wish, and great
Doth long to see unarm’d the valiant Hector.
Helt. Æneas, call my brother Troilus to me:
And fignify this loving interview
To the expectors of our Trojan part;
Defire them home. Give me thy hand, my
I will go eat with thee, and see your Knights.
AGAMEMNON and the rest of the Greeks come
forward. Ajax. Great Agamemnon comes to meet us here.
Hect. The worthiest of them tell me name by
But for Achilles, mine own searching eyes [name;
Shall find him by his large and portly fize.
Aga. Worthy of arms! as welcome as to one
That would be rid of such an enemy;
But that's no welcome : underítand more clear,
What's past and what's to come is strew'd with husks
And formless ruin of oblivion:
But in this extant moment, faith and truth,
Strained purely from all hollow bias-drawing,
Bids thee with most divine integrity,
From heart of very heart, great Hector, welcome.
Helt. I thank thee, most imperious Agamemnon.
Aga. My well-fam'd Lord of Troy, no less to
[To Troilus. Men. Let me confirm my princely brother's greetYou brace of warlike brothers, welcome hither. (ing:
Hect. Whom muft we answer?
Æne. The noble Menelaus.
Helt. 0-you, my Lord-by Mars his gauntlet,
Mock not that I affe&t the untreaded oath: (thanks.
Your quondain wife swears still by Venus' glove:
She's well, but bade me not commend her to you,
Men. Name her not now, Sir, she's a deadly
Héit. 0, pardon — I offend.
Neft. I have, thoa gallant Trojan, seen thee oft,
Labouring for destiny, make cruel way
Through ranks of Greekish youth; and I have seen
As hot as Perseus, fpur thy Phrygian steed, [thce
Bravely despifing forfeits and subduements,
When thou haft hung thy advanced sword i' th' air,
Not letting it decline on the declined :
That I have said unto my standers-by,
Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life !
And I have seen thee pause, and take thy breath,
When that a ring of Greeks have hemmed thee in,
Like an Olympian wrestling. This I've seen:
But this thy countenance, still lock'd in steel,
I never saw till now. I knew thy grandfire,
And once fought with him; he was a foldier good;
But by great Mars, the captain of us all,
Never like thee. Let an old man embrace thee,
And, worthy warrior, welcome to our tents.
Æne. 'Tis the old Neftor.
Hett. Let me embrace thee, good old chronicle,
Thats haft fo long walk'd hand in hand with time:
Most reverend Neftor, I am glad to clasp thee.
Neft. I would my arms could match thee in conAs they contend with thee in courtesy. [tention, Hect. I would they could.
[morrow. Neft. By this white beard, I'd fight with thee toWell, welcome, welcome; I have seen the time-
Ulys. I wonder now how yonder city stands, When we have here the base and pillar by us.
Helt. I know your favour, Lord Ulysses, well. Ah, Sir, there's many a Greek and Trojan dead, Since first I saw yourself and Diomede In Ilion, on your Greekish embassy.
Ulyf. Sir, I foretold you then what would ensue:
My prophecy is but half his journey yet;
For yonder walls, that pertly front your town,
Yond towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds,
Must kiss their own feet.
Hed. I must not believe you :
There they stand yet; and, modestly I think,
The fall of every Phrygian stone will cost
A drop of Grecian blood : the end crowns all;
And that old common arbitrator, Time,
Will one day end it.
Ulyf. So to him we leave it.
Most gentle, and most valiant Hector, welcome;
After the general, I beseech you next
To fealt with me, and see me at my tent.