NESTOR

Let this be granted, and Achilles’ horse

Makes many Thetis’ sons.

Tucket

AGAMEMNON

What trumpet?

Look, Menelaus.

MENELAUS

From Troy.

Enter Aeneas ⌈and a trumpeter⌉

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 ears?

AGAMEMNON

With surety stronger than Achilles’ arm,

Fore all the Greekish heads, which with one voice

Call Agamemnon heart 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 on 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 (to the Greeks)

This Trojan scorns us, or the men of Troy

Are ceremonious courtiers.

AENEAS

Courtiers as free, as debonair, unarmed,

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 great

Jove’s acorn

Nothing so full of heart. But peace, Aeneas,

Peace, Trojan; lay thy finger on thy lips.

The worthiness of praise distains his worth,

If that the praised himself bring the praise forth.

But what, repining, the enemy commends,

That breath fame blows; that praise, sole pure,

transcends.

AGAMEMNON

Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself Aeneas?

AENEAS

Ay, Greek, that is my name.

AGAMEMNON What’s your affair, I pray you?

AENEAS

Sir, pardon, ’tis for Agamemnon’s ears.

AGAMEMNON

He hears naught privately that comes from Troy.

AENEAS

Nor I from Troy come not to whisper him.

I bring a trumpet to awake his ear,

To set his sense on the attentive bent,

And then to speak.

AGAMEMNON 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.

AENEAS Trumpet, blow loud.

Send thy brass voice through all these lazy tents,

And every Greek of mettle let him know

What Troy means fairly shall be spoke aloud.

The trumpet sounds

We have, great Agamemnon, here in Troy

A prince called Hector—Priam is his father—

Who in this dull and long-continued truce

Is resty grown. He bade me take a trumpet

And to this purpose speak: ‘Kings, princes, lords,

If there be one among the fair’st of Greece

That holds his honour higher than his ease,

That seeks his praise more than he fears his peril,

That knows his valour and knows not his fear,

That loves his mistress more than in confession

With truant vows to her own lips he loves,

And dare avow her beauty and her worth

In other arms than hers—to him this challenge.

Hector in view of Trojans and of Greeks

Shall make it good, or do his best to do it:

He hath a lady wiser, fairer, truer,

Than ever Greek did compass in his arms,

And will tomorrow with his trumpet call

Midway between your tents and walls of Troy

To rouse a Grecian that is true in love.

If any come, Hector shall honour him.

If none, he’ll say in Troy when he retires

The Grecian dames are sunburnt and not worth

The splinter of a lance.’ Even so much.

AGAMEMNON

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.

NESTOR (to Aeneas)

Tell him of Nestor, one that was a man

When Hector’s grandsire sucked. He is old now,

But if there be not in our Grecian mould

One noble man that hath one spark of fire

To answer for his love, tell him from me

I’ll hide my silver beard in a gold beaver

And in my vambrace put this withered brawn,

And meeting him will tell him that my lady

Was fairer than his grandam, and as chaste

As may be in the world. His youth in flood,

I’ll prove this truth with my three drops of blood.

AENEAS

Now heavens forbid such scarcity of youth.

ULYSSES Amen.

AGAMEMNON

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.

Yourself shall feast with us before you go,

And find the welcome of a noble foe.

Exeunt all but Ulysses and Nestor

ULYSSES

Nestor!

NESTOR What says Ulysses?

ULYSSES I have a young

Conception in my brain; be you my time

To bring it to some shape.

NESTOR What is’t?

ULYSSES This ’tis:

Blunt wedges rive hard knots. The seeded pride