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 commixion 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 sire's: by Jove multipotent,
Thou should'st 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.
^{1 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.
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 signifie this loving interview
To the expectors of our Trojan part:
Desire them home. Give me thy hand, my Cousin:
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 name;
But for Achilles, mine own searching eyes
Shall find him by his large and portly size.

Aga.
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?

Æne.
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;
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.

&plquo;Nest.
&plquo;I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft,
&plquo;Labouring for destiny, make cruel way
&plquo;Through ranks of Greekish youth; and I have seen thee,
&plquo;As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed,
&plquo;Bravely despising forfeits and subduements,
&plquo;When thou hast hung thy advanc'd sword i'th' air,
&plquo;Not letting it decline on the declin'd:
&plquo;That I have said unto my standers-by,
&plquo;Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life!&prquo;
And I have seen thee pause, and take thy breath,
When that a Ring of Greeks have hem'd 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 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,
As they contend with thee in courtesie.

Hect.
I would, they could.

Nest.
By this white beard, I'd fight with thee to morrow.
Well, 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.

Hect.
I know your favour, lord Ulysses, well.
Ah, Sir, there's many a Greek and Trojan dead,
Since first I saw your self and Diomede
In Ilion, on your Greekish embassie.

Ulys.
Sir, I foretold you then what would ensue:
My prophesie 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.

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.

Ulys.
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.
I shall forestal thee, lord Ulysses;—thou!
Now, Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee;
I have with exact view perus'd thee, Hector,
And quoted joint by joint.

Hect.
Is this Achilles?

Achil.
I am Achilles.

Hect.
Stand fair, I pr'ythee, 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 heav'ns, in which part of his body
Shall I destroy him? whether there, or there,
That I may give the local wound a name;
And make distinct the very breach, where-out
Hector's great spirit flew. Answer me, heav'ns!

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 the 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 stythied 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 chafe thee, cousin;
And you, Achilles, let these threats alone,
'Till accident or purpose bring you to't.
You may have ev'ry day enough of Hector,
If you have stomach. The general State, I fear,
Can scarce intreat you to be odd with him.

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 intreat 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 you; afterwards,
As Hector's leisure and your bounties shall
Concur together, severally intreat him
To taste your bounties: let the trumpets blow;
That this great soldier may his welcome know. [Exeunt.

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