AGAMEMNON.Which way would Hector have it?
AENEAS.
He cares not; he’ll obey conditions.
ACHILLES.
‘Tis done like Hector; but securely done,
A little proudly, and great deal misprising
The knight oppos’d.
AENEAS.
If not Achilles, sir,
What is your name?
ACHILLES.
If not Achilles, nothing.
AENEAS.
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 courtesy.
This Ajax is half made of Hector’s blood;
In love whereof half Hector stays at home;
Half heart, half hand, half Hector comes to seek
This blended knight, half Trojan and half Greek.
ACHILLES.
A maiden battle then? O! I perceive you.
[Re-enter DIOMEDES.]
AGAMEMNON.
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 breath. The combatants being kin
Half stints their strife before their strokes begin.
[AJAX and HECTOR enter the lists.]
ULYSSES.
They are oppos’d already.
AGAMEMNON.
What Trojan is that same that looks so heavy?
ULYSSES.
The youngest son of Priam, a true knight;
Not yet mature, yet matchless; firm of word;
Speaking in deeds and deedless 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 shows,
Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty,
Nor dignifies an impure thought with breath;
Manly as Hector, but more dangerous;
For Hector in his blaze of wrath subscribes
To tender objects, but he in heat of action
Is more vindicative than jealous love.
They call him Troilus, and on him erect
A second hope as fairly built as Hector.
Thus says Aeneas, one that knows the youth
Even to his inches, and, with private soul,
Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me.
[Alarum. HECTOR and AJAX fight.]
AGAMEMNON.
They are in action.
NESTOR.
Now, Ajax, hold thine own!
TROILUS.
Hector, thou sleep’st;
Awake thee!
AGAMEMNON.
His blows are well dispos’d. There, Ajax!
DIOMEDES.
You must no more.
[Trumpets cease.]
AENEAS.
Princes, enough, so please you.
AJAX.
I am not warm yet; let us fight again.
DIOMEDES.
As Hector pleases.
HECTOR.
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 obligation of our blood forbids
A gory emulation ‘twixt us twain:
Were thy commixtion 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 cheek, and this sinister
Bounds in my father’s; by Jove multipotent,
Thou shouldst not bear from me a Greekish member
Wherein my sword had not impressure made
Of our rank feud; but the just gods gainsay
That any drop thou borrow’dst from thy mother,
My sacred aunt, should by my mortal sword
Be drained! Let me embrace thee, Ajax.
By him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms;
Hector would have them fall upon him thus.
Cousin, all honour to thee!
AJAX.
I thank thee, Hector.
Thou art too gentle and too free a man.
