Not yet mature, yet matchless; firm of word ; For Hector, in his blaze of wrath, subscribes [Alarum. HECTOR and AJAX fight Agam. They are in action. Nest. Now, Ajax, hold thine own! Tro. Awake thee! Agam. His blows are well dispos'd:-there, Ajax! Dio. You must no more. Ene. Hector, thou sleep'st; [Trumpets cease, Princes, enough, so please you. Why then, will I no more: Ajax. I am not warm yet, let us fight again. Dio. As Hector pleases. Hect. Thou art, great lord, my father's sister's son, A cousin-german to great Priam's seed; A gory emulation 'twixt us twain: Were thy commixtion Greek and Trojan so, And this is Trojan; the sinews of this leg All Greek, and this all Troy; my mother's blood Bounds-in my father's; by Jove multipotent, Thou should'st not bear from me a Greekish member Of our rank feud: But the just gods gainsay, Ajax. Hect. Not Neoptolemus so mirable (On whose bright crest Fame with her loud'st O yes Cries, This is he,) could promise to himself A thought of added honour torn from Hector. Ene. There is expectance here from both the sides, What further you will do. Hect. Dio. 'Tis Agamemnon's wish: and great Achilles And signify this loving interview To the expecters of our Trojan part; Desire them home.-Give me thy hand, my cousin; Ajax. Great Agamemnon comes to meet us here. Hect. The worthiest of them tell me name by name; But for Achilles, my own searching eyes Shall find him by his large and portly size. Agam. Worthy of arms! as welcome as to one That would be rid of such an enemy; But that's no welcome: Understand more clear, But in this extant moment, faith and troth, From heart of very heart, great Hector, welcome. The noble Menelaus. Hect. O you, my lord? by Mars his gauntlet, thanks! Mock not, that I affect th' untraded oath; Your quondam wife swears still by Venus' glove: Men. Name her not now, sir; she's a deadly theme. Nest. I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft, Labouring for destiny, make cruel way Through ranks of Greekish youth: and I have seen thee As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed, Despising many forfeits and subduements, When thou hast hung thy advanced sword i' th'air, That I have said to some my standers-by, And I have seen thee pause, and take thy breath, Never like thee: Let an old man embrace thee; Hect. Let me embrace thee, good old chronicle, That hast so long walk'd hand in hand with time: Most reverend Nestor, I am glad to clasp thee. Nest. I would, my arms could match thee in con tention, As they contend with thee in courtesy. Hect. I would they could. Nest. Ha! By this white beard, I'd fight with thee to-morrow. Well, welcome, welcome! I have seen the time Ulyss. I wonder now how yonder city stands, When we have here her base and pillar by us. Hect. I know your favour, lord Ulysses, well. Ah, sir, there's many a Greek and Trojan dead, Since first I saw yourself and Diomed In Ilion, on your Greekish embassy. Ulyss. Sir, I foretold you then what would ersue: My prophecy is but half his journey yet; For yonder walls, that pertly front your town, Yon towers, whose wantón tops do buss the clouds, Hect. Will one day end it. Ulyss. To feast with me, and see me at my tent. Achil. I shall forestall thee, lord Ulysses, thou!- Hect. Achil. I am Achilles. Is this Achilles ? Hect. Stand fair, I pray thee: let me look on thee. Achil. Behold thy fill. Hect. Nay, I have done already. Achil. Thou art too brief; I will the second time, As I would buy thee, view thee limb by limb. Hect. O, like a book of sport thou'lt read me o'er'; But there's more in me than thou understand'st. Why dost thou so oppress me with thine eye? Achil. Tell me, you heavens, in which part of his body Shall I destroy him? whether there, there, or there? That I may give the local wound a name; And make distinct the very breach, whereout Hector's great spirit flew: Answer me, heavens! Hect. It would discredit the bless'd gods, proud mán, To answer such a question: Stand again: |