Aga.
Here art thou in appointment fresh and fair,
Anticipating time with starting courage.
Give with thy trumpet a loud note to Troy,
Thou dreadful Ajax; that the appalled air
May pierce the head of the great combatant,
And hale him hither.

Ajax.
Thou, trumpet, there's my purse.
Now crack thy lungs, and split thy brazen pipe:
Blow, villain, 'till thy sphered ^{6 note}

Ulyss.
No trumpet answers.

Achil.
'Tis but early days.

Aga.
Is not yon Diomed, with Calchas' daughter?

Ulyss.
'Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait;
He rises on his toe; that spirit of his
In aspiration lifts him from the earth. Enter Diomed, with Cressida.

Aga.
Is this the lady Cressida?

Dio.
Even she.

Aga.
Most dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet lady.

Nest.
Our general doth salute you with a kiss.

Ulyss.
Yet is the kindness but particular;
'Twere better, she were kiss'd in general.

Nest.
And very courtly counsel: I'll begin.—
So much for Nestor.

Achil.
I'll take that winter from your lips, fair lady:
Achilles bids you welcome.

Men.
I had good argument for kissing once.

Patr.
But that's no argument for kissing now:
For thus popp'd Paris in his hardiment;
And parted thus you and your argument.

Ulyss.
O deadly gall, and theme of all our scorns!
For which we lose our heads, to gild his horns.

Patr.
The first was Menelaus' kiss;—this, mine:
Patroclus kisses you.

Men.
O, this is trim!

Patr.
Paris, and I, kiss evermore for him.

Men.
I'll have my kiss, sir:—Lady, by your leave.

Cre.
In kissing, do you render, or receive?

Patr.
^{7 note}Both take and give.

Cre.
^{8 note}

Men.
I'll give you boot, I'll give you three for one.

Cre.
You're an odd man; give even, or give none.

Men.
An odd man, lady? every man is odd.

Cre.
No, Paris is not; for, you know, 'tis true,
That you are odd, and he is even with you.

Men.
You fillip me o'the head.

Cre.
No, I'll be sworn.

Ulyss.
It were no match, your nail against his horn.—
May I, sweet lady, beg a kiss of you?

Cre.
You may.

Ulyss.
I do desire it.

Cre.
^{9 note}

Ulyss.
Why then, for Venus' sake, give me a kiss,
When Helen is a maid again, and his.

Cre.
I am your debtor, claim it when 'tis due.

Ulyss.
^{1 note}

Dio.
Lady, a word;—I'll bring you to your father. [Diomed leads out Cressida.

Nest.
A woman of quick sense.

Ulyss.
Fie, fie upon her!
There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip,
Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out
At every joint and ^{2 note}motive of her body.
O, these encounterers, so glib of tongue,
That give ^{3 note}a coasting welcome ere it comes,
And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts
To every ticklish reader! set them down
For ^{4 note}sluttish spoils of opportunity,

And daughters of the game. [Trumpet within.

All.
The Trojans' trumpet!

Aga.
Yonder comes the troop. Enter Hector, Æneas, Troilus, &c. with attendants.

Æne.
Hail, all the state of Greece! What shall be done to him
That victory commands? Or do you purpose,
A victor shall be known? will you, the knights
Shall to the edge of all extremity
Pursue each other; or shall they be divided
By any voice or order of the field?
Hector bade ask.

Aga.
Which way would Hector have it?

Æne.
He cares not, he'll obey conditions.

Aga.
^{5 note}

A little proudly, and great deal misprizing
The knight oppos'd.

Æne.
If not Achilles, sir,
What is your name?

Achil.
If not Achilles, nothing.

Æne.
Therefore Achilles: But, whate'er, know this;—
In the extremity of great and little,
^{6 note}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 comes to seek
This blended knight, half Trojan, and half Greek.

Achil.
A maiden battle then?—O, I perceive you. Re-enter Diomed.

Aga.
Here is sir Diomed:—Go, gentle knight,
Stand by our Ajax: as you and lord Æneas
Consent upon the order of their fight,
So be it; either to the uttermost,
Or else a breath: the combatants being kin,

Half stints their strife before their strokes begin.

Ulyss.
They are oppos'd already.

Aga.
What Trojan is that same that looks so heavy?

Ulyss.
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 soon provok'd, nor, being provok'd, soon calm'd:
His heart and hand both open, and both free;
For what he has, he gives, what thinks, he shews;
Yet gives he not 'till judgment guide his bounty,
Nor dignifies ^{8 note}

Aga.
They are in action.

Nest.
Now, Ajax, hold thine own!

Troi.
Hector, thou sleep'st, awake thee!

Aga.
His blows are well dispos'd:—there, Ajax! [Trumpets cease.

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.

Hect.
Why then, will I no more:—
Thou art, great lord, my father's sister's son,
A cousin-german to great Priam's seed;
The obligation of our blood forbids
A gory emulation 'twixt us twain:
Were thy commixtion Greek and Trojan so,
That thou could'st say—This hand is Grecian all,
And this is Trojan; the sinews of this leg
All Greek, and this all Troy; my mother's blood
Runs on the dexter cheek, and this sinister
Bounds-in my father's; by Jove multipotent,
Thou shouldst not bear from me a Greekish member
Wherein my sword had not impressure made
Of our rank feud: But the just gods gainsay,
That any drop thou borrow'st from thy mother,
My sacred aunt, should by my mortal sword
Be drain'd! 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.

Hect.
^{2 note}

(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.

Æne.
There is expectance here from both the sides,
What further you will do.

Hect.
^{3 note}We'll answer it;
The issue is embracement:—Ajax, farewel.

Ajax.
If I might in entreaties find success,
(As seld I have the chance) I would desire
My famous cousin to our Grecian tents.

Dio.
'Tis Agamemnon's wish; and great Achilles
Doth long to see unarm'd the valiant Hector.

Hect.
Æneas, call my brother Troilus to me:

And signify this loving interview.
To the expecters of our Trojan part;
Desire them home.—Give me thy hand, my cousin;
I will go eat with thee, and see ^{4 note}your knights.

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.

Aga.
^{5 note}Worthy of arms! as welcome as to one
That would be rid of such an enemy;
But that's no welcome: Understand 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 troth,
Strain'd purely from all hollow bias-drawing,
Bids thee, with most divine integrity,
From heart of very heart, great Hector, welcome.

Hect.
I thank thee, most imperious Agamemnon.

Aga.
My well-fam'd lord of Troy, no less to you. [To Troilus.

Men.
Let me confirm my princely brother's greeting;—
You brace of warlike brothers, welcome hither.

Hect.
Whom must we answer?

Men.
The noble Menelaus.

Hect.
O, you, my lord? by Mars his gauntlet, thanks!
^{6 note}
Mock not, that I affect the untraded oath;
Your quondam 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 theme.

Hect.
O, pardon; I offend.

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,
^{7 note}
Despising many forfeits and subduements,
When thou hast hung thy advanced sword i'the air,
Not letting it decline on the declin'd;
That I have said to some 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 hemm'd thee in,
Like an Olympian wrestling: This have I seen;
But this thy countenance, still lock'd in steel,
I never saw 'till now. I knew thy grandsire,
And once fought with him: he was a soldier 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 Nestor.

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 contention,

^{8 note}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 ensue:
My prophecy is but half his journey yet;
For yonder walls, that pertly front your town,
Yon towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds,
Must kiss their own feet.

Hect.
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.

Ulyss.
So to him we leave it.
Most gentle, and most valiant Hector, welcome:
After the general, I beseech you next
To feast with me, and see me at my tent.

Achil.
^{9 note}

^{1 note}Now, Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee;
I have with exact view perus'd thee, Hector,
And quoted joint by joint^{2 note}

.

Hect.
Is this Achilles?

Achil.
I am 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 blest gods, proud man,
To answer such a question: Stand again:
Think'st thou to catch my life so pleasantly,
As to prenominate in nice conjecture,
Where thou wilt hit me dead?

Achil.
I tell thee, yea.

Hect.
Wert thou an oracle to tell me so,
I'd not believe thee. Henceforth guard thee well;
For I'll not kill thee there, nor there, nor there;

But, by the forge that stithy'd Mars his helm,
I'll kill thee every where, yea, o'er and o'er.—
You wisest Grecians, pardon me this brag,
His insolence draws folly from my lips;
But I'll endeavour deeds to match these words,
Or may I never—

Ajax.
Do not chase thee, cousin;—
And you, Achilles, let these threats alone,
'Till accident, or purpose, bring you to't:
You may have every day enough of Hector,
If you have stomach; the general state, I fear,
Can scarce entreat you to be odd with him^{3 note}
.

Hect.
I pray you, let us see you in the field;
We have had pelting wars, since you refus'd
The Grecians' cause.

Achil.
Dost thou entreat me, Hector?
To-morrow do I meet thee, fell as death;
To-night, all friends.

Hect.
Thy hand upon that match.

Aga.
First, all you peers of Greece, go to my tent;
There in the full convive we^{4 note}: afterwards,
As Hector's leisure and your bounties shall
Concur together, severally intreat him.—
^{5 note}

That this great soldier may his welcome know. [Exeunt. Manent Troilus, and Ulysses.

Troi.
My lord Ulysses, tell me, I beseech you,
In what place of the field doth Calchas keep?

Ulyss.
At Menelaus' tent, most princely Troilus:
There Diomed doth feast with him to-night;
Who neither looks on heaven, nor on the earth,
But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view
On the fair Cressid.

Troi.
Shall I, sweet lord, be bound to you so much,
After we part from Agamemnon's tent,
To bring me thither?

Ulys.
You shall command me, sir.
As gentle tell me, of what honour was
This Cressida in Troy? Had she no lover there,
That wails her absence?

Troi.
O, sir, to such as boasting shew their scars,
A mock is due. Will you walk on, my lord?
She was belov'd, she lov'd; she is, and doth:
But, still, sweet love is food for fortune's tooth. [Exeunt.

Previous section