Aga. The nature of the sickness found, Ulysses, What is the remedy?
Ulys. The great Achilles,-whom opinion crowns The sinew and the forehand of our host,
Having his ear full of his airy fame,
Grows dainty of his worth, and in his tent
Lies mocking our designs: with him, Patroclus,
Upon a lazy bed, the livelong day
And with ridiculous and awkward action (Which, slanderer, he imitation calls)
He pageants1 us. Sometime, great Agamemnon,
Thy topless deputation he puts on;
And, like a strutting player,-whose conceit
Lies in his hamstring, and doth think it rich
To hear the wooden dialogue and sound
"Twixt his stretch'd footing and the scaffoldage,3-
Such to-be-pitied and o'erwrested + seeming
He acts thy greatness in; and when he speaks,
'Tis like a chime a mending; with terms unsquared,5
Which, from the tongue of roaring Typhon dropp'd,
Would seem hyperboles. At this fusty stuff,
The large Achilles, on his press'd bed lolling,
From his deep chest laughs out a loud applause;
Cries Excellent!-'tis Agamemnon just.-
Now play me Nestor ;-hem, and stroke thy beard,
As he, being 'dress'd to some oration.'
3 The galleries of the theatre. 5 Unadapted to their subject.
2 Supreme.
i.e. beyond the truth.
That's done, as near as the extremest ends
Of parallels; as like as Vulcan and his wife:
Yet good Achilles still cries, Excellent!
'Tis Nestor right! Now play him me, Patroclus,
Arming to answer in a night alarm.'
And then, forsooth, the faint defects of age
Must be the scene of mirth; to cough, and spit,
And with a palsy-fumbling on his gorget,
Shake in and out the rivet;-and at this sport
Sir Valor dies; cries, O!-enough, Patroclus;
Or give me ribs of steel! I shall split all
In pleasure of my spleen.' And in this fashion,
All our abilities, gifts, natures, shapes,
Severals and generals of grace exact,
Achievements, plots, orders, preventions,
Excitements to the field or speech for truce,
Success or loss, what is or is not, serves
As stuff for these two to make paradoxes.
Nes. And in the imitation of these twain
(Whom, as Ulysses says, opinion crowns
With an imperial voice) many are infect.
Ajax is grown self-will'd; and bears his head
In such a rein, in full as proud a place
As broad Achilles : keeps his tent like him;
Makes factious feasts; rails on our state of war,
Bold as an oracle; and sets Thersites
(A slave, whose gall coins slanders like a mint)
To match us in comparisons with dirt;
To weaken and discredit our exposure,
How rank soever rounded in with danger.
Ulys. They tax our policy, and call it cowardice;
Count wisdom as no member of the war;
Forestall prescience, and esteem no act
But that of hand: the still and mental parts,-
That do contrive how many hands shall strike,
When fitness calls them on; and know, by measure
Of their observant toil, the enemies' weight;-
Why, this hath not a finger's dignity :
They call this bed-work, mappery, closet-war :
So that the ram, that batters down the wall,
For the great swing and rudeness of his poise,
They place before his hand that made the engine;
Or those, that with the fineness of their souls
By reason guide his execution.
Nes. Let this be granted, and Achilles' horse
Makes many Thetis' sons.
[trumpet sounds. What trumpet? look, Menelaus.
En. May one, that is a herald and a prince, Do a fair message to his kingly ears?
Aga. With surety stronger than Achilles' arm 'Fore all the Greekish heads, which with one voice Call Agamemnon head and general.
En. Fair leave, and large security. How may A stranger to those most imperial looks Know them from eyes of other mortals?
I ask, that I might waken reverence,
And bid the cheek be ready with a blush
Modest as morning, when she coldly eyes
The youthful Phoebus.
Which is that god in office, guiding men?
Which is the high and mighty Agamemnon?
Aga. This Trojan scorns us, or the men of Troy
Are ceremonious courtiers.
En. Courtiers as free, as debonair, unarm'd,
As bending angels; that's their fame in peace:
But when they would seem soldiers, they have
Good arms, strong joints, true swords; and, Jove's
Nothing so full of heart. But peace, Æneas;
Peace, Trojan; lay thy finger on thy lips!
The worthiness of praise disdains his worth,
If that the praised himself bring the praise forth; But what the repining enemy commends,
That breath fame follows; that praise, sole pure,
Aga. Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself Æneas? En. Ay, Greek, that is my name.
What's your affair, I pray you?
En. Sir, pardon; 'tis for Agamemnon's ears.
Aga. He hears naught privately, that comes from
En. Nor I from Troy came not to whisper him: I bring a trumpet to awake his ear;
To set his sense on the attentive bent,
And then to speak.
Speak frankly as the wind:
It is not Agamemnon's sleeping hour:
That thou shalt know, Trojan, he is awake,
He tells thee so himself.
Send thy brass voice through all these lazy tents ;-
And every Greek of mettle, let him know,
What Troy means fairly, shall be spoke aloud.
[trumpet sounds.
We have, great Agamemnon, here in Troy
A prince call'd Hector, (Priam is his father)
Who in this dull and long-continued truce
Is rusty grown: he bade me take a trumpet,
And to this purpose speak :-Kings, princes, lords!
If there be one, among the fairest of Greece,
That holds his honor higher than his ease;
That seeks his praise more than he fears his peril;
That knows his valor, and knows not his fear;
That loves his mistress more than in confession,
(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, wiser, fairer, truer,
Than ever Greek did compass in his arms;
And will to-morrow with his trumpet call,
Midway between your tents and walls of Troy,
To rouse a Grecian that is true in love:
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