The Grecian Camp. Lists set out. |
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Enter AJAX, armed; AGAMEMNON, ACHILLES, PATROCLUS, MENELAUS, ULYSSES, NESTOR, and Others. |
Agam. 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 bias cheek |
Outswell the colic of puff'd Aquilon. |
Come, stretch thy chest, and let thy eyes spout blood; |
Thou blow'st for Hector. [Trumpet sounds. |
Ulyss. No trumpet answers. |
Achil. 'Tis but early days. |
Agam. Is not yond Diomed with Calchas' daughter? |
Ulyss. 'Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait; |
He rises on the toe: that spirit of his |
In aspiration lifts him from the earth. |
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Enter DIOMEDES, with CRESSIDA. |
Agam. Is this the Lady Cressid? |
Dio. Even she. |
Agam. 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. |
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; |
Therefore no kiss. |
Men. I'll give you boot; I'll give you three for one. |
Cres. You're an odd man; give even, or give none. |
Men. An odd man, lady! every man is odd. |
Cres. 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. |
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. |
Ulyss. Never's my day, and then a kiss of you. |
Dio. Lady, a word: I'll bring you to your father. [DIOMEDES 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 motive of her body. |
O! these encounterers, so glib of tongue, |
That give a coasting welcome ere it comes, |
And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts |
To every tickling reader, set them down |
For sluttish spoils of opportunity |
And daughters of the game. [Trumpet within. |
All. The Trojans' trumpet. |
Agam. Yonder comes the troop. |
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Enter HECTOR, armed; ĆNEAS, TROILUS, and other Trojans, with Attendants. |
Ćne. Hail, all you 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 be divided |
By any voice or order of the field? |
Hector bade ask. |
Agam. Which way would Hector have it? |
Ćne. He cares not; he'll obey conditions. |
Achil. 'Tis done like Hector; but securely done, |
A little proudly, and great deal misprising |
The knight oppos'd. |
Ćne. If not Achilles, sir. |
What is your name? |
Achil. If not Achilles, nothing. |
Ćne. Therefore Achilles; but, whate'er, know this: |
In the extremity of great and little, |
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. |
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Re-enter DIOMEDES. |
Agam. Here is Sir Diomed. Go, gentle knight, |
Stand by our Ajax: as you and Lord Ćneas |
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. [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 impure 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. |
They call him Troilus, and on him erect |
A second hope, as fairly built as Hector. |
Thus says Ćneas; one that knows the youth |
Even to his inches, and with private soul |
Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me. [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. [Trumpets cease. |
Ćne. 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 couldst 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'dst 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. Not Neoptolemus so mirable, |
On whose bright crest Fame with her loud'st oyes |
Cries, 'This is he!' could promise to himself |
A thought of added honour torn from Hector. |
Ćne. 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. Ćneas, 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, mine 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, |
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. |
Agam. [To TROILUS.] My well-fam'd Lord of Troy, no less to you. |
Men. Let me confirm my princely brother's greeting: |
You brace of war-like brothers, welcome hither. |
Hect. Whom must we answer? |
Ćne. The noble Menelaus. |
Hect. O! you, my lord? by Mars his gauntlet, thanks! |
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. |
Hec. O! pardon; I offend. |
Nest. I have, thou gallant Trojan, see 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 advanc'd word i' th' 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. |
Ćne. '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 courtesy. |
Hect. I would they could. |
Nest. Ha! |
By this white beard, I'd fight with thee tomorrow. |
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, |
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. |
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. I shall forestall 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 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, or 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 man, |
To answer such a question. Stand again: |
Think'st thou to catch my life so pleasantly |
As to prenominate in nice conjocture |
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 stithied 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 every day enough of Hector, |
If you have stomach. The general state, I fear, |
Can scarce entreat 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 entreat me, Hector? |
To-morrow do I meet thee, fell as death; |
To-night all friends. |
Hect. Thy hand upon that match. |
Agam. First, all you peers of Greece, go to my tent; |
There in the full convive we afterwards, |
As Hector's leisure and your bounties shall |
Concur together, severally entreat him. |
Beat loud the tabourines, let the trumpets blow, |
That this great soldier may his welcome know. [Exeunt all except TROILUS and ULYSSES. |
Tro. 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 upon the heaven nor earth, |
But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view |
On the fair Cressid. |
Tro. Shall I, sweet lord, be bound to thee so much, |
After we part from Agamemnon's tent, |
To bring me thither? |
Ulyss. 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? |
Tro. O, sir! to such as boasting show 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. |
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