1

Atchievements, plots, orders, preventions,
Excitements to the field, or fpeech for truce,
Succefs, or lofs, what is, or is not, ferves
As ftuff for these two to make paradoxes.
Neft. And in the imitation of these twain,
Whom, as Ulyffes fays, opinion crowns
With an imperial voice, many are infect:
Ajax is grown felf-will'd, and bears his head
In fuch a rein, in full as proud a place,

As broad Achilles; and keeps his tent like him;
Makes factious feafts, rails on our state of war,
Bold as an Oracle; and fets Therfites,

A flave, whofe gall coins flanders like a mint,
To match us in comparisons with dirt;
To weaken and difcredit our exposure,
7 How rank foever rounded in with danger.
Uly. They tax our policy, and call it cowardife,
Count wisdom as no member of the war;
Foreftall our prefcience, and efteem no Act

atchievements, plats, orders, &c. are all turned into ridicule by the buffoonery of Achilles and Pairoclus. This is the fenfe; but what then is the meaning of grace exact? no other can be made of it, than that Achilles and Patroclus exactly mimick all our qualities and action. But the speaker thought very differently of their buffoonery: the imitation, he fays, being as unlike the original as Vulcan to his wife. The fault lies here; exa& fhould be exa&s; and belongs to the fecond divifion, namely, the enumeration of the actions; and should be read thus; All our abilities, gifts, natures, Mapes

Severals and generals of grace;

EXACTS,

Atchievements, plots, &c.

But that of hand: The ftill and mental parts,
That do contrive how many hands fhall ftrike,
When fitness call them on, and know by measure
Of their obfervant toil the enemies' weight;
Why, this hath not a finger's dignity;

They call this bed-work, Mapp'ry, closet war:
So that the ram, that batters down the wall,
For the great fwing and rudeness of his poize,
They place before his hand that made the engine;
Or thofe, that with the fineness of their fouls
By reafon guide his execution.

Neft. Let this be granted, and Achilles' horfe
Makes many Thetis' fons.

[Tucket founds.

Aga. What trumpet? look, Menelaus.

Men. From Troy.

SCENE VI.

Enter Æneas.

Aga. What would you 'fore our tent?

Ene. Is this great Agamemnon's tent, I pray you Aga. Even this.

Ene. May one, that is a Herald and a Prince, Do a fair meffage to his kingly ears?

Aga. With furety ftronger than Achilles' arm, 'Fore all the Greekifh heads, which with one voice Call Agamemnon Head and General.

Ene. Fair leave, and large fecurity. A ftranger to those most imperial looks Know them from eyes of other mortals? Aga. How?

How may

Ene. I afk, that I might waken Reverence,

-and know by measure Of their obfervant toil the enemics' weight;] I think it

were better to read,

-and know the measure, By ther obfervant til, of th

enemies' weight.

?

9-kingly ears?] The quarto, -kingly eyes.

1-Achilles' arm,] So the copies. Perhaps the authour wrote, -Alcides' arm.

And

And bid the cheek be ready with a blush
Modeft as morning, when the coldly eyes
The youthful Phabus:

Which is that God in office, guiding men?
Which is the high and mighty Agamemnon?

Aga. This Trojan fcorns us, or the men of Troy Are ceremonious courtiers.

Ene. Courtiers as free, as debonair, unarm'd,
As bending Angels; that's their fame in peace:
But when they would feem foldiers, they have galls,
Good arms, ftrong joints, true fwords; and, Jove's
Accord,

Nothing fo full of heart. But peace, Æneas;
Peace, Trojan; lay thy finger on thy lips;
The worthiness of praise diftains his worth,
If he, that's prais'd, himfelf bring the praise forth :
But what th' repining enemy commends,

That breath Fame blows, that praife fole pure tranfcends.

Aga. Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself Æneas? Ene. Ay, Greek, that is my name.

Aga. What's your affair, I pray you?

Ene. Sir, pardon; 'tis for Agamemnon's ears.
Aga. He hears nought privately that comes from

Troy.

Ene. Nor I from Troy come not to whisper him; I bring a trumpet to awake his Ear,

To fet his fenfe on the attentive bent,
And then to speak.

Aga. Speak frankly as the wind,

It is not Agamemnon's fleeping hour;

That thou shalt know, Trojan, he is awake,
He tells thee fo himself.

Ene. Trumpet, blow loud,

Send thy brafs voice thro' all these lazy tents;

-bid the cheek-] So the folio. The quarto has,

-on the cheek

Ff3

And

3

And every Greek of mettle, let him know
What Troy means fairly, fhall be fpoke aloud.
[The trumpets found:
We have, great Agamemnon, here in Troy
A Prince call'd Hector, Priam is his father,
Who in this dull and long continu'd truce
Is rusty grown; he bade me take a trumpet
And to this purpofe fpeak: Kings, Princes, Lords,
If there be one amongst the fair'ft of Greece,
That holds his honour higher than his cafe,
That feeks his praife more than he fears his peril,
That knows his valour and knows not his fear,
That loves his miftrefs more than in confeffion,
With truant vows to her own lips he loves,
And dare avow her beauty and her worth
In other arms than hers; to him this Challenge.
Hector, in view of Trojans and of Greeks,
Shall make it good, or do his best to do it,
He hath a Lady, wifer, fairer, truer,
Than ever Greek did compafs in his arms;
And will to-morrow with his trumpet call,
Midway between your tents and walls of Troy,
To rouze a Grecian that is true in love.
If any come, Hector fhall honour him:
If none, he'll fay in Troy, when he retires,
The Grecian Dames are fun-burn'd, and not worth
The fplinter of a lance. Even fo much.

6

Aga. This fhall be told our lovers, Lord Æneas. If none of them have foul in fuch a kind, We've left them all at home: but we are foldiers; And may that foldier a meer recreant prove, That means not, hath not,

3 -long continu'd truce] Of this long trace there has been no rotice taken; in this very act it is faid, that Ajax coped Hector yesterday in the battle.

-rufi Quarto refly.

or is not in love!

5-more than in confeffion,] Cenfeffion, for profeffion. WARE. 6 -to her own lips he loves,] That is, confeffion made with idle vows to the lips of her whom he loves.

If

A

If then one is, or hath, or means to be,
That one meets Hector; if none elfe, I'm he.
Neft. Tell him of Nestor; one, that was a man
When Hector's Grandfire fuckt; he is old now,
But if there be not in our Grecian Hoft
One noble man that hath one fpark of fire,
To answer for his love, tell him from me,
I'll hide my filver beard in a gold beaver
? And in my vantbrace put this wither'd brawn;
And, meeting him, will tell him, that my Lady
Was fairer than his grandam, and as chafie
As may be in the world: his youth in flood,
I'll pawn this truth with my three drops of blood.
Ene. Now heav'ns forbid fuch fcarcity of youth!
Ulyff. Amen.

Aga. Fair Lord Eneas, let me touch your hand: To our Pavilion fhall I lead you first:

Achilles fhall have word of this intent,

So fhall each Lord of Greece from tent to tent:
Yourself fhall feaft with us before you go,
And find the welcome of a noble foe.

[Exeunt.

Uly. Neftor,

Neft. What fays Ulysses?

Uly. I have a young conception in my brain, Be you my time to bring it to fome shape.

Neft. What is't?

Uly. This 'tis :

Blunt wedges rive hard knots; the feeded pride,

That hath to this maturity blown up

In rank Achilles, muft or now be cropt,

And in my vantbrace-] An armour for the arm, avantbras.

POPE.