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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

          Breaks scurril jests;

          And with ridiculous and awkward action-

          Which, slanderer, he imitation calls-

          He pageants 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-

          Such to-be-pitied and o'er-wrested seeming

          He acts thy greatness in; and when he speaks

          'Tis like a chime a-mending; with terms unsquar'd,

          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 drest to some oration.'

          That's done-as near as the extremest ends

          Of parallels, as like Vulcan and his wife;

          Yet god 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 Valour 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.

        NESTOR. And in the imitation of these twain-

          Who, 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.

        ULYSSES. 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, mapp'ry, closet-war;

          So that the ram that batters down the wall,

          For the great swinge 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.

        NESTOR. Let this be granted, and Achilles' horse

          Makes many Thetis' sons.

      [Tucket]

        AGAMEMNON. What trumpet? Look, Menelaus.

        MENELAUS. From Troy.

      Enter AENEAS

        AGAMEMNON. What would you fore our tent?

        AENEAS. Is this great Agamemnon's tent, I pray you?

        AGAMEMNON. Even this.

        AENEAS. May one that is a herald and a prince

          Do a fair message to his kingly eyes?

        AGAMEMNON. With surety stronger than Achilles' an

          Fore all the Greekish heads, which with one voice

          Call Agamemnon head and general.

        AENEAS. Fair leave and large security. How may

          A stranger to those most imperial looks

          Know them from eyes of other mortals?

        AGAMEMNON. How?

        AENEAS. Ay;

          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?

        AGAMEMNON. This Troyan scorns us, or the men of Troy

          Are ceremonious courtiers.

        AENEAS. Courtiers as free, as debonair, unarm'd,

          As bending angels; that's their fame in peace.

          But when they would seem soldiers, they have galls,

          Good arms, strong joints, true swords; and, Jove's accord,

          Nothing so full of heart. But peace, Aeneas,

          Peace, Troyan; lay thy finger on thy lips.

          The worthiness of praise distains his worth,

          If that the prais'd himself bring the praise forth;

          But what the repining enemy commends,

          That breath fame blows; that praise, sole pure, transcends.

        AGAMEMNON. Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself Aeneas?

        AENEAS.

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