Par. 'Tis Troilus's fault. Come, come to field with

him.

Dio. Let us make ready ftrait.

A

Ene. Yea, with a bridegroom's fresh alacrity Let us addrefs to tend on Hector's heels:

The glory of our Troy doth this day lye

On his fair worth, and fingle chivalry.

[Exeunt

SCENE VIII. The Grecian Camp.
Enter Ajax armed, Agamemnon, Achilles, Patroclus,
Menelaus, Ulyffes, Neftor, &c.

Aga. 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 th' appalled air
May pierce the head of the great combatant,
And hale him hither.

Ajax. Trumpet, there's my purfe;

Now crack thy lungs, and split thy brazen pipe:
Blow, villain, 'till thy sphered bias cheek

Out-fwell the cholick of puft Aquilon:

Come ftretch thy cheft, and let thy eyes fpout blood:

Thou blow'ft for Hector.

Ulyf. Yet no trumpet answers.

Achil. It is but early day.

[Trumpet founds.

Aga. Is not yond' Diomede with Calchas' daughter?

Ulyf. 'Tis he, 1 ken the manner of his gate,

He rifes on his toe; that fpirit of his

In afpiration lifts him from the earth.

Enter Diomede and Creffida.

Aga. Is this the Lady Creffida ?

Dio. Ev'n fhe.

Aga. Moft dearly welcome to the Greeks, fweet Lady!

----- fweet Lady!

Net. Our General doth falute you with a kiss.

Ulyf. Yet is the kindnefs but particular;

'Twere better fhe were kifs'd in general,
Net And very courtly counfel: I'll begin.

So much for Nefior.

Achil. I'll take that winter from your lips, fair Lady: Achilles bids you welcome.

Men. 1 had good argument for kiffing once.

Pat. But that's no argument for kifing now:

For

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:
Oh thefe Encounterers! tho' glib of tongue,
They give a coafting welcome ere it comes;
And wide unclafp the tables of their thoughts
To every ticklish reader: fet them down
For fluttish fpoils of opportunity,
And daughters of the game.

All. The Trojans trumpet!

Aga. Yonder comes the troop.

[Trumpet within.

Enter Hector, Paris, Troilus, Æneas, Helenus, and

Attendants.

Ene. Hail, all the ftate of Greece! what fhall be done

For thus pop'd Paris in his hardiment,

And parted thus, you and your argument.

Ulf. Oh deadly gail, and theme of all our fcorns,

For which we lofe our heads to gild his horns.

Pat. The first was Menelaus' kifs---this minePatroclus kiffes you.

Men. O, this is trim.

Pat. Paris and 1 kifs evermore for him.

Men. I'll have my kifs, Sir: Lady, by your leave.
Cre. In kiffing do you render or receive?

Pat. Both take and give.

Cre. I'll make my match to give,

The kifs you take is better than you give;

Therefore no kifs.

Men. I'll give you boot, I'll give you three for one.
Cre. You are an odd man, give even, or give none.

Men. An odd man, Lady? every man is odd,

Cre. No, Paris is not; for you know 'tis true,

That you are odd, and he is even with you.

Men. You fillip me o'th' head.

Cre. No, I'll be fworn.

Uly. It were no match, your nail against his hora:

May I, fweet Lady, beg a kifs of you?

Cre. You may.

Uly. I do defire it.

Cre. Why beg then.

Uly. Why then, tor Venus fake give me a kifs:

When Helen is a maid again, and his ---

Cre. I am your debtor, claim it when 'tis due,
Uiyf. Never's my day, and then a kifs of you.
Dio. Lady, a word-----&c.

To

To that victory commands? or do you purpose,
A victor fhall be known? will you, the knights
Shall to the edge of all extremity

Purfue each other, or fhall they be divided |
By any voice, or order of the field?
Heter bad ask.

Aga. Which way would Hector have it ?
Ene, He cares not; he'll obey conditions.
Acbil. 'Tis done like Hector, but fecurely done,
A little proudly, and great deal mifprizing
The knight oppos'd.

ne. If not Achilles, Sir, what is your name? Acbil. If not Achilles, nothing.

Ene. 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 courtefie.
This Ajax is half made of Hector's blood,
In love whereof, half Hector ftays at home;
Half heart, half hand, half Hector, come to feck
This blended knight, half Trojan and half Greek.
Acbil. A maiden battel then? O, I perceive you.
Re-enter Diomede.

Aga. Here is Sir Diomede: go, gentle knight,
Stand by our Ajax; as you and Lord Æneas
Confent upon the order of their fight,

So be it; either to the uttermoft,

Or elfe a breath. The combatants being kin
Half stints their ftrife before their strokes begin.
Ulyf. They are oppos'd already.

Aga. What Trojan is that fame that looks fo heavy?
Ulyf. The youngest fon of Priam, a true knight;
Not yet mature, yet matchlefs; firm of word;
Speaking in deeds, and deedlefs in his tongue;
Not foon provok'd, nor being provok'd foon calm'd;
His heart and hand both open, and both free;
For what he has, he gives; what thinks, he fhews;
Yet gives he not 'till judgment guide his bounty,
Nor dignifies an impair thought with breath:

Manly

Manly as Hector, but more dangerous;
For Hector in his blaze of wrath fubfcribes
To tender objects; but he in heat of action
Is more vindicative than jealous love.
They call him Troilus, and on him erect
A fecond hope, as fairly built as Hector,
Thus fays Æneas; one that knows the youth
Ev'n to his inches, and with private foul
Did in great Ilion thus tranflate him to me.
SCENE IX. Hector and Ajax fight.

Aga. They are in action.

Neft. Now, Ajax, hold thine own.

Troi, Hector, thou fleep'ft, awake thee?

Aga. His blows are well difpos'd; there, Ajax.

Dio. You must no more:

Ene. Princes, enough, fo please you.

[Alarum.

[Trumpets ceafe,

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 Gifter's fon
A coufin-german to great Priam's feed:
The obligation of our blood forbids

A gory emulation 'twixt us twain.

Were thy commixtion Greek and Trojan lo
That thou could'ft fay, this hand is Grecian all,
And this is Trojan; the finews of this leg
All Greek, and this all Troy; my mother's blood
Runs on the dexter cheek, and this finifter
Bounds in my fire's; by Jove multipotent,
Thou fhould't not bear from me a Greekish member,
Wherein my fword had not impreffure made
Of our rank feud: But the juft Gods gainfay,
That any drop thou borrow'ft from thy mother,
My facred aunt, fhould by my mortal fword"
Be drain'd! Let me embrace thee, Ajax:
By him that thunders, thou haft lufty arms;
Hector would have them fall upon him thus
Coufin, all honour to thee!

Ajax. I thank thee, Hector!

༢-༣

Thon

Thou art too gentle, and too free a man :
I came to kill thee, coufin, and bear hence
great addition earned in thy death.

Het. Not Neoptolemus' fire fo mirable

(On whofe bright crest Fame with her loud'ft O yes Cries, This is be) could promise to himfelf

A thought of added honour torn from Hector.

Ene. There is expectance here from both the fides, What further you will do.

Hect. We'll answer it :

The iffue is embracement: farewel, Ajax.
Ajax. If I might in entreaties find fuccefs,
(As feld I have the chance) I would defire
My famous coufin to our Grecian tents.

Dio. 'Tis Agamemnon's wish, and great Achilles
Doth long to fee unarm'd the valiant Hector.
Heft. Æneas, call my brother Troilus to me:
And fignifie this loving interview

To the expectors of our Trojan part:

Defire them home. Give me thy hand, my coufin;
I will go eat with thee, and fee your knights.

Agamemnon and the reft of the Greeks come forward,
Ajax. Great Agamemnon comes to meet us here.
Hect. The worthieft of them tell me name by name;
But for Achilles, mine own fearching eyes
Shall find him by his large and portly fize.

Aga. Worthy of arms! as welcome as to one
That would be rid of fuch an enemy;

But that's no welcome: understand more clear,
What's past and what's to come is ftrew'd with husks
And formlefs ruin of oblivion:

But in this extant moment, faith and troth,
Strain'd purely from all hollow bias-drawing,
Bid thee with moft divine integrity,

From heart of very heart, great Hector, welcome.
Hect. thank thee, moft imperious Agamemnon.
Aga. My well-fam'd Lord of Troy, no lefs 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 ?

Ene.