_Agam_. Here is Sir Diomed. Go, gentle knight,
Stand by our Aiax. As you and Lord ]Eneas
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.
[Aiax and Hector enter the lists]
_Vlyſ_. They are oppos’d already.
_Agam_. What Troian is that same that looks so heavy?
_Vlyſ_. 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 judgement guide his bounty,
Nor dignifies an impair 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 Troylus, and on him erect
A second hope as fairly built as Hector.
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. Hector and Aiax fight]
_Agam_. They are in action.
_Nestor_. Now, Aiax, hold thine own!
_Troy_. Hector, thou sleep’st;
Awake thee.
_Agam_. His blows are well dispos’d. There, Aiax!
[Trumpets cease]
_Diom_. You must no more.
_Æne_. Princes, enough, so please you.
_Aiax_. I am not warm yet; let us fight again.
_Diom_. As Hector pleases.
_Hect_. 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 Troian so
That thou could’st say ‘This hand is Grecian all,
And this is Troian; 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, Aiax.
By him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms;
Hector would have them fall upon him thus.
Cousin, all honour to thee!
_Aiax_. I thank thee, Hector.
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.
_Hect_. Not Neoptolemus so mirable,
On whose bright crest Fame with her loud’st Oyes
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.
_Hect_. We’ll answer it:
The issue is embracement. Aiax, farewell.
_Aiax_. If I might in entreaties find success,
As seld I have the chance, I would desire
My famous cousin to our Grecian tents.
_Diom_. ’Tis Agamemnon’s wish; and great Achilles
Doth long to see unarm’d the valiant Hector.
_Hect_. Æneas, call my brother Troylus to me,
And signify this loving interview
To the expecters of our Troian part;
Desire them home. Give me thy hand, my cousin;
I will go eat with thee, and see your knights.