Such is the will of heaven: but grieve not, king,
He comes not empty-handed to demand

His daughter back- - the priest a ransom brings
As might content

Ag. The avarice of a priest.

Were I old Neftor, past the age of love,

I might fell mine—I scorn his proffer'd treasure;
My honour's now concern'd to keep my love,
Left the malicious world, that cenfures kings
Like common men, fhould fay of Agamemnon,
That like a fordid flave he chang'd for gold
All that his foul held dear.

Ach. But like a fordid slave to lusts as vile;
You matter not to facrifice your fame,
To brave the gods with violated oaths,

To sell your faith, your glory, and the lives
Of millions, for a woman.

Ag. Proud Myrmidon, provoke me not too far,

Upon thy life no more

Ach. My life! who dares attempt it;

Ag. Ha! Who dares

[They rife, and laying their hands on their swords stand in

a pofture of drawing, Neftor and Ulyffes interpofe.

Ulyf. Take head, Achilles, and respect the king, Who ftrike at kings, repeat the giants crime,

And ftrike at Jove.

Neft. [to Ag.] You know his temper, choleric and fierce. Provoke him not, Atrides, 'tis not well:

You that should fhew th' example of good order,

Whom all the princes and the kings of Greece

Have chofen their leader

For fhame, command yourself.

Ag. Unconscionable men! Must I of all the Greeks,

Muft I be robb'd of what the chance of war

Has made my prize? I, only I, debarr'd

Of what to every centinel's allow'd?
What petty leader is there in the camp
Whom I disturb? When, when did I invade
Another's pleasures? - Neftor, Ulysses, speak,
And thou, Achilles, did I ever wrong
You of your rights? or with lafcivious rage

B

Force from your tents, your captives? princes, fpeak,
Why then thefe wrongs to me?

Ulyf. Not we, Atrides, but th' immortal gods
Neft. Can Agamemnon, that religious king,
Who not deny'd his daughter to the gods,

Refufe a ftranger, and a captive?

Ach. Leave, leave him to his fate, and let Troy stand.

Whom heaven abandons, men in vain fupport.

What harm has Troy done us? nor came we here

But for his fake, ungrateful as he is.

My troops I'll lead from this infectious air,
And let him moulder here in plagues alone.

Ag. Go when thou wilt; in an unlucky hour
Thou cam'ft- and may ill fate go with thee.
Lead hence thy Myrmidons, to Phthia back,
And plague fome other country with thy pride:
Or back to Lycomedes' daughters

Ulyffes forc'd thee hither, to fulfil

whence

The muty prophecies of doating priests,

That Troy, without thy aid, could not be conquer'd.
There hide thee in thy woman's garb again,

And with inhofpitable luft debauch

Some new Deidamia.

Ach. Had Mars himself said this

[Lays his hand on his sword.

Ag. Keep in thy rage: We know that thou canst fight,

I am thy witness, who have seen thee pierce

The Dardan ranks. So would Therfites fight,
Had he been dipt in Styx: or had lame Mulciber
Wrought him a coat of arms not to be pierc'd.
What flave with an invulnerable skin,

And with inpenetrable armour on,

Would be a coward?

Ach. Thus I reply

- this injury's thy last. [Draws; Neftor and Ulysses hold him.

Ag. Not fo, Achilles, there remains behind

A greater yet

Where are our guards?

Talthybius and Eurybates

Neft. Sheath, fheath your fword

The king fhall make amends.

Enter Talthybius, Eurybates, and guard.

Ulyf. You were too fierce; and so would you be mov'd Were your belov'd Brifeis threatned.

Ach. Not all his guards fhall fave him

[They hold him, he struggles.

Ag. Hurt not, but keep that roaring lion in.
And thou, Talthybius, with our choicest troops
Hafte to Achilles' tent and fetch Brifeis;
Kill all that dare refift, 'tis my command.

[Exit Talthybius.

I'll let thee know, by what thyself shalt feel,
What 'tis to part two lovers.

Ach. [Struggling.] Thou dar'ft not do it

By the gods thou dar'st not.

Ag. Thou turbulent invader of my love,

Be this thy punishment, and learn from hence

How to refpect fuperior majefty.

Now let him loofe, to fave

His miftrefs if he can.

[To the guards.

Ach. Love calls me hence ere I can take thy life;

But my next labour my revenge shall be,

Tremble, Atrides, that my hands are free. [Exit Achilles.

Ulyf. Oh gods! what joy to Priam will this bring,

What grief to the Achaeans!

Neft. O Agamemnon! this double violence

Ag. I guess your meaning, Neftor, but intend

Nor love, nor violence, to fair Brifeis;
Untouch'd, with all respect she shall remain
Till I have humbled this proud Myrmidon.
But O Chrufeis!

Love, piety, and honour pull at once

All feveral ways

nor know I which to follow.

O Jove! affift me in this doubtful ftrife,

And if thou doom'ft my love, condemn my life.

The end of the first act.

[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

ACHILLES and PATROCLUS.

I'LL hear no more,

ACHILLES.

The faithful dog flies at the robber's throat
That would break in, to force his master's treasure;
But dogs are watchful fervants, true to trust,
Men are the first to prey upon their lords;
In danger they forfake us, thifting ftill

From fide to fide, as they can mend their bargains;
Are thefe, are these those daring Myrmidons
That threaten Hector with their valiant boasts,
And could they stand spectators of my wrongs?
With arms a-crofs, behold my rifled tent,

Nor with drawn fwords, and lifted fpears rush in
To kill the ravishers

Pat. What could fuch a handful

Ach. They should have dy'd, if not enough to conquer,

Each standing in his rank, with fhield to fhield,
Have made a wall, and barr'd the paffage up.
Brifeis, O Brifeis! art thou loft,

And do I live? and art thou ravifh'd from me,
And art thou unreveng'd? O had'st thou dy'd!
Had we been funder'd by the common courfe
Of mortal things, neceffity and fate,

Th' inevitable doom of wilful gods,

Had made thefe griefs lefs painful-had'st thou been falfe!But thou wert true, our loves were in the fpring,

And yet we part: a human pow'r divides us,

A man lefs worthy than myself has forc'd thee,

And I must tamely bear it.

Pat. The gods are fparing ev'n to those they love, And stint their bounties to the best of men:

A man, and never crofs'd, would be a God.

Ach. They fhould have form'd my nature then to bear, They should have made me a tame patient foo!. If they had meant to exercife my patience:

But they have caft me in a fiery mould,

Of wrong impatient, furious for revenge.

Why should they tempt us, where our virtue fails?

Why do they give us frailties, yet expect

That we should act, as free from any weakness?

If nature must refift to all attacks,
Why is not nature fortify'd alike

In ev'ry part? why are we fram'd fo brittle,

If we must never break? O had they try'd my courage!
Had Jove commanded more than Juno bid

The stronge Alcides, he had found me proof:

But patience is the virtue of a beast

That trots beneath his burthen and is quiet:

A man's above it, and I fcorn my load,

Which I'll shake off, or perish.

Pat. Oh love! thou bane of the most generous fouls!
Thou doubtful pleasure! and thou certain pain!
What magic's thine that melts the hardest hearts?
That fools the wifeft minds? what art is this
That on fo long experience of all ages,

So known, fo try'd a traitor fhould be trusted?

Ach. Now by th' immortal gods, this rape has pleas'd her; She willing went, delighted with the change:

Oh! fhe could never from her heart forgive

My rage at fack'd Lyrneffus; when mounting up
The mighty wall, thro' darts, and stones, and spears,
I fill'd the streets with flaughter of her friends:
Her seven brothers, at her feet lay dead,
She only 'fcap'd, her wond'rous beauty fav'd her,
And in the midst of fury made me tame.
Sleep, fleep ye ghofts, lie quiet in your graves,
Brifeis has reveng'd your bloody deaths,
Oh! fhe has thruft a dagger in my heart,
I feel the poifon'd point, here, here it sticks;

It tears, it burns, and I fhall fleep no more.

Pat. Suppofe her falfe: and count this mighty lofs, A woman! and a woman you've enjoy'd!

Compose yourself, nor let the great Achilles

Be thus difturb'd about a trifle.

Ach. And art thou falfe, Brifeis; art thou falfe?