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In love whereof, half He&tor stays at home: Half Heart, half Hand, half Hector, comes to seek · This blended Knight, half Irojan and half Greek.

Achil. A Maiden Battel then? O, I percfive you.

Aga. Here is Sir Diomede: Go, gentle K ight,
Stand by our Ajax; as you and Lord Æneas
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.

Ulys. They are oppos'd already.
Ajax. What Trojan is that same that looks so heavy?

Vlys. The youngest Son of Priam,
And a true Knight; they call him Troilus;
Not yet mature, yet matchless, firm of Word,
Speaking in Deeds, and deedlets 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 shews;
Yet gives he pot 'till Judgment guide his Bounty,
Nor dignifies an impair Thought with Breath;
Manly as Hector, but more dangerous,
For Hector in his blaze of Wrach subscribes,
To tender Obje&s; but he in heat of A&ion
Is more vindicative than jealous Love,
They call him Troilus, and on him erect
A second hops, as fairly built as He&tor.
Thus says Æneas, one that knows the Youth,
Even to his Inches; and with private Soul,
Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me [ Alarum
Aga. They are in A&tion.

(He&or and Ajax fight. Nest. Now Ajax hold thine own. Troi. Hector, thou flecp'st, awake thee. Aga. His Blows are well dispos'd; chere Ajax. [Trumpets Dio. You must no more.

çeas.
Æne. Prinçes, enough, so please you.
Ajax. I am not warm yet, let us fight again.
Dio. As Hector pleases.

Helt. 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

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The obligation of our Blood forbids
A gory Emulation 'twixt us twain;
Were ihy Commixion Greek and Trojan so,
That thou could'st 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 Check, and this Sinifter
Bounds in my Father's: By Jove multipotent,
Thou should'st not bear from me a Greekish Member
Wherein my Sword had not impressure made
of our rank feud; but the just Gods gainlay,
That any drop thou borrow ft from thy Mother,
My sacred Aunt, should by my mortal Sword ,
Be drain'd. Let me embrace thee, Ajax :
By him that Thunders, thou bait lusty Arms;
Hector would have them fall upon him thus
Cousin, all honour to thee.

Ajax. I thank thee, Hektor:
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.

Helt. Not Neoptolemus lo mirable,
On whose bright Crest, Fame with her loud'ft O yes,
Cries, This is he, could promise to himself
A thought of added Honour torn from Hector.

Æne. There is expectance here from both the sides:
What further you will do.

Het. We'll answer it:
The issue is Embracement: Ajax, farewel.

Ajax. If I might in Entreaties find success,
As teld I have the chance; I would defire
My famous Cousin to our Grecian Tents.

Dio. 'Tis Agamemnon's wish, and great Achilles
Doth long to see unarm'd the valiant Hector.

Heet. Æneas, call my Brother Troilus to me:
Ard Signifie this loving Interview
To the expe&ors of the Trojan part:
Defire him home. Give me thy Hand, my Cousin:
I will go eat with thee, and see your Knights.

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Aga

Agamemnon and the rest of the Greeks come forward.
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 lize.

Aga, Worthy of Arms; as welcome as to one
That would be rid of such an Enemy.
But that's no welcome: Understand more cl. ar,
What's past and what's to come, is strew'd w ih husks
And formless ruin of Oblivion :
But in this extant moment, faith and troth,
Strain'd purely from all hollow bias drawing,
Bids chee with moft divine Integrity,
From Heart of very Heart, great Hector, welcome.

He&t. I thank thee, most Imperious Agamemnon. [To Troi.
Aga. My well fam'd Lord of Troy, no less to you.

Men. Let me confirm my Princely Brother's Greeting, You brace of warlike Brothers, welcome hither.

Hett. Whom muft we answer
Æne. The Noble Menelaus.

Hect. O----you my Lord.---by Mars his Gauntlet thanks,
Mock not, that I affect th' untraded Oath,
Your quondam Wife swears still by Venus Glove,
She's well, but bad me not commend her to you.

Men, Name her not now, Sir, Me's a deadly Theme.
Het. O pardon-l offend.

I
Nost. I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen 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,
And seen thee scouring Forfeits and Subduements,
When thou hast hung thy advanc'd Sword i'th'Air,
Not letting it decline on the declined:
That I have said unto 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 hem'd thee in,
Like an Olympian wrestling. Thus I have seen,
But this thy Countenance, ftill stock'd in Steel,
I never saw 'till now. I knew thy Grandfire,
And once fought with him; he was a Soldier good,

But

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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.

Æne. 'Tis the old Nestor.

Hect. Let me embrace thee, good old Chronicle, That haft so long walk'd Hand in Hand with time: Moft reverend Nestor, I am glad to clasp thee.

Neft. I would my Arms could match thee in Contention, As they contend with thee in Courtefie.

He&t. I would they could.

Neft. Ha? by this white Beard I'd fight with thee to Morrow. Well, welcome, welcome; I have seen the time-..

Ulys. I wonder now how yonder City flands,
When we have here the Base and Pillar by us.

Helt. I know your favour, Lord Ulles, well.
Ah, Sir, there's many a Greek and Trojan dead,
Since first I say you self and Diomede
In Ilion, on your Greekish Embalfe.

Vlyf. Sir, I foretold you then what would enfue.
My Prophesie is but half his Journey yet,
For yonder Walls that partly front your Town;
Yond Towers, whose wanton tops do buss the Clouds,
Must kiss their own Feet,

He£t. 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.

Ulys. So to him we leave it.
Molt gentle, and most valiant Hector, welcome ;
After the General, I beseech you next
To feast with me, and Tee me at my Tent. :

Achil. I shall forestal, thee, Lord Vlyles, thous
Now He&tor, I have fed mine Eyes on thee,
I have with exa& view perus'd thee, Hektor,
And quoted joint by joint.

Hect. Is this Achilles ?
Achil. I am Achilles.
Het. Stand fair, I prithee, let me look on thee.
Achil. Behold thy Gille

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Heět. 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 Heav'ns, 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 diftin&t the very breach, where-out
Hector's great Spirit flew. Answer me, Heav'ns.

Heet. It would discredit the blest Gods, proud Man,
To answer such a Question: Stand again,
Think'st thou to catch my Life fo pleasantly,
As to prenominate in nice Conje&ure,
Where thou wilt hit me dead?

Achil. I tell thee, yea.

Heit. Wert thou the 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 stythied Mars his Helm,
I'll kill thee every where, yea o'er and o'er.
You wifeft 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 ev'ry day enough of Hector ?
If you have Stomach. The general State, I fear,
Can scarce intreat you to be odd with him.

Helt. I pray you, let us see you in the Field,
We have had pelting Wars since you

refus'd
The Grecian's Cause.

Achil. Dost thou intreat me, Heĉtor?
To Morrow do I meet thee, fell as Death,
To Night, all Friends.
Hed. Thy Hand upon that match.

t
Aga. First, all you Peers of Greece go to my Tent,
There in the full convive you; afterwards,

As

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