AGAMEMNON

Princes: What grief hath set the Jaundice on your cheeks? The ample proposition that hope makes In all designs, begun on earth below Fails in the promised largeness: checks and disasters Grow in the veins of actions highest reared. As knots by the conflux of meeting sap, Infect the found Pine, and diverts his Grain Tortive and erant from his course of growth Nor Princes, is it matter new to us, That we come short of our suppose so far, That after seven years siege, yet Troy walls stand, Sith every Actium that hath gone before, Whereof we have Record, Trial did draw Bias and thwart, not answering the aim: And that unbodied figure of the thought That gaue't surmised shape. Why then (you Princes) Do you with cheeks abashed, behold our works, And think them shame, which are (indeed) nought else But the protractive trials of great Jove, To find persistive constancy in men? The fineness of which Mettle is not found In Fortune's love: for then, the Bold and Coward, The Wise and Fool, the Artist and vn-read, The hard and soft, seem all affined, and kin. But in the Wind and Tempest of her frown, Distinction with a loud and powerful fan, Puffing at all, winnows the light away; And what hath mass, or matter by it self, Lies rich in Virtue, and unmingled. Where is Achilles? Let it be known to him that we are here: He sent out Messengers, and we lay by Our appertainments, visiting of him: Let him be told of, so perchance he think We dare not move the question of our place, Or know not what we are. What wouldst thou of us Trojan? make demand? Weel execute your purpose, and put on A form of strangeness as we pass along, So do each Lord, and either greet him not, Or else disdainfully, which shall shake him more, Then if not looked on. I will led the way. So now fair Prince of Troy, I bid goodnight, Ajax commands the guard to tend on you. March patiently along; let one be sent To pray Achilles see us at our Tent. If in his death the gods have us befriended, Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are ended. Speak Prince of Ithaca, and be't of less expect: That matter needless of importlesse burden Divide thy lips; then we are confident When rank Thersites opens his Mastic jaws, We shall hear Music, Wit, and Oracle. The Nature of the sickness found ( Ʋ lysses) What is the remedy? What Trumpet? Look Menelaus. What would you before our Tent? Even this. With surety stronger then Achilles arm, Before all the Greekish heads, which with one voice Call Agamemnon Head and General. How? This Trojan scorns us, or the men of Troy Are ceremonious Courtiers. Sir, you of Troy, call you your self Aeneas ? What's your affair I pray you? He hears nought privately That comes from Troy. 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. This shall be told our Lovers Lord Aeneas, If none of them have soul in such a kind, We left them all at home: But we are Soldiers, And may that Soldier a mere recreant prove, That means not, hath not, or is not in love: If then one is, or hath, or means to be, That one meets Hector ; if none else, I'll be he. Fair Lord Aeneas, Let me touch your hand: To our Pavilion shall I lead you first: Achilles shall have word of this intent, So shall each Lord of Greece from Tent to Tent: Your self shall Feast with us before you go, And find the welcome of a Noble Foe. Hear you Patroclus : We are too well acquainted with these answers: But his evasion winged thus swift with scorn, Cannot outfly our apprehensions. Much attribute he hath, and much the reason, Why we ascribe it to him, yet all his virtues, Not virtuously of his own partly beheld, Do in our eyes, begin to lose their gloss; Yea, and Like fair Fruit in and vnholdsome dish, Are Like to rot untasted: go and tell him, We came to speak with him; and you shall not sin, If you do say, we think him over proud, And under honest; in selfe-assumption greater Then in the note of judgement: & worthier then himself Here tends the savage strangeness he puts on, Disguise the holy strength of their command: And under write in and observing kind His humorous predominance, yea watch His pettish lines, his ebbs, his flows, as if The passage and whole carriage of this Actium Road on his tied. Go tell him this, and add, That if he overhold his price so much, Weel none of him; but let him, Like and Engine Not portable, lie under this report. Bring Actium hither, this cannot go to war: A stirring Dwarf, we do allowance give, Before a sleeping Giant: tell him so. In second voice weel not be satisfied, We come to speak with him, Ʋ lisses enter you. No more then what he thinks he is. Your mind is the clearer Ajax, and your virtues the fairer; he that is proud, eats up himself; Pride is his own Glass, his own trumpet, his own Chronicle, and what ever praises it self but in the deed, devours the deed in the praise. Why, will he not upon our fair request, Untent his person, and share the air with us? Let Diomedes bear him, And bring us Cressid hither: Calcas shall have What he requests of us: good Diomed Furnish you fairly for this interchange; Withal bring word, if Hector will to morrow Be answered in his challenge. Ajax is ready. What says Achilles, would he ought with us? The better. 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. Is not young Diomed with Calcas daughter? Is this the Lady Cressid ? Most dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet Lady. Yonder comes the troop. Which way would Hector have it? It's done Like Hector, but securely done, A little proudly, and great deal disprising The Knight opposed. Here is sir, Diomed : go gentle Knight, Stand by our Ajax : as you and Lord Aeneas Consent upon the order of their fight, So be it: either to the uttermost, Or else a breach: the Combatants being kin, Half stints their strife, before their strokes begin. What Trojan is that same that looks so heavy? They are in Actium. His blows are well disposed there Ajax. Worthy of Arms: as welcome as to one That would be rid of such and enemy. But that's no welcome: understand more clear What's passed, and what's to come, is strewed with husks And formless ruin of oblivion: But in this extant moment, faith and troth, Strained purely from all hollow bias drawing: Bids thee with most divine integrity. From heart of very heart, great Hector welcome. My well-famed Lord of Troy, no less to you. First, all you Peers of Greece go to my Tent, There in the full convive you: Afterwards, As Hector's leisure, and your bounties shall Concur together, severally entreat him. Beat loud the Taborins, let the Trumpets blow, That this great Soldier may his welcome know. We go wrong, we go wrong. Goodnight. Renew, renew, the fierce Polidamus Hath beat down Menon : bastard Margarelon Hath Doreus prisoner. And stands Calossus-wise waving his beam, Upon the pashed courses of the Kings: Epistropus and Cedus, Polyxenes is slain; Amphimacus, and Thous deadly hurt; Patroclus taken or slain, and Palamedes Soar hurt and bruised; the dreadful Sagittary Appauls our numbers, haste we Diomed To reenforcement, or we perish all. Hark, hark, what shout is that? No question. No, Noble Ajax, you are as strong, as valiant, as wise, no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether more tractable What's his excuse? Let Ajax go to him. Dear Lord, go you and greet him in his Tent; It's said he holds you well, and will be led At your request a little from himself. Oh no, you shall not go. He will be the Physician that should be the pa tient. Go we to Counsel, let Achilles sleep; Light Boats may sail swift, though greater bulks draw deep.