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. Cres. In kissing, do you render, or receive? Patr. Both take and give. Cres. I'll make my match to live, The kiss you take is better than you give; Men. I'll give you boot, I'll give you three for one. That you are odd, and he is even with you. Men. You fillip me o'the head. Cres. No, I'll be sworn. Ulyss. It were no match, your nail against his horn.— May I, sweet lady, beg a kiss of you? Cres. You may. Ulyss. I do desire it. Cres. Why, beg then. Ulyss. Why, then, for Venus' sake, give me a kiss, When Helen is a maid again, and his. Cres. I am your debtor, claim it when 'tis due. There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, That give a coasting welcome ere it comes, For sluttish spoils of opportunity, And daughters of the game. All. The Trojans' trumpet. Agam. Yonder comes the troop. [Trumpet within. Enter HECTOR, armed; ENEAS, TROILUS, and other Trojans, with Attendants. Ene. 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 Agam. Which way would Hector have it? Achil. 'Tis done like Hector; but securely done, A little proudly, and great deal misprizing The knight oppos'd. Ene. If not Achilles, sir, What is your name? Achil. If not Achilles, nothing. Ene. Therefore Achilles: But, whate'er, know this:In the extremity of great and littlę, Valour and pride excel themselves in Hector; The other blank as nothing. Weigh him well, Re-enter DIOMED. Agam. Here is sir Diomed:-Go, gentle knight, Or else a breath: the combatants being kin, [AJAX and HECTOR enter the lists. Ulyss. They are oppos'd already. Agam. 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 shows; Yet gives he not till judgment guide 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: [Alarum. HECTOR and AJAX fight. Agam. They are in action. Nest. Now, Ajax, hold thine own! Tro. Hector, thou sleep'st; Awake thee! Agam. His blows are well dispos'd:-there, Ajax! Dio. You must no more. Ene. Princes, enough, so please you. [Trumpets cease. Ajax. I am not warm yet, let us fight again. 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; Were thy commixtion Greek and Trojan so, All Greek, and this all Troy; my mother's blood Thou should'st not bear from me a Greekish member, Be drain'd! Let me embrace thee, Ajax: Ajax. I thank thee, Hector: Thou art too gentle, and too free a man : 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. We'll answer it; The issue is embracement:-Ajax, farewell. 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 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. Agam. Worthy of arms! as welcome as to one That would be rid of such an enemy; |