_Æne._ Courtiers as free, as debonair, unarm'd, 235 As bending angels; that's their fame in peace:[1188] But when they would seem soldiers, they have galls, Good arms, strong joints, true swords; and, Jove's accord,[1189][1190] Nothing so full of heart. But peace, Æneas,[1189] Peace, Trojan; lay thy finger on thy lips! 240 The worthiness of praise distains his worth, If that the praised himself bring the praise forth:[1191] But what the repining enemy commends,[1192] That breath fame blows; that praise, sole pure, transcends.[1193] _Agam._ Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself Æneas? 245 _Æne._ Ay, Greek, that is my name. _Agam._ What's your affair, I pray you?[1194] _Æne._ Sir, pardon; 'tis for Agamemnon's ears. _Agam._ He hears nought privately that comes from Troy.[1195] _Æne._ Nor I from Troy come not to whisper him:[1196] 250 I bring a trumpet to awake his ear, To set his sense on the attentive bent,[1197] And then to speak. _Agam._ Speak frankly as the wind; It is not Agamemnon's sleeping hour: That thou shalt know, Trojan, he is awake, 255 He tells thee so himself. _Æne._ Trumpet, blow loud,[1198] 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. [_Trumpet sounds._[1199] We have, great Agamemnon, here in Troy 260 A prince call'd Hector--Priam is his father-- Who in this dull and long-continued truce[1200] Is rusty grown: he bade me take a trumpet,[1201] And to this purpose speak. Kings, princes, lords! If there be one among the fair'st of Greece, 265 That holds his honour higher than his ease, That seeks his praise more than he fears his peril,[1202] That knows his valour and knows not his fear, That loves his mistress more than in confession[1203] With truant vows to her own lips he loves, 270 And dare avow her beauty and her worth[1204] 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,[1205] He hath a lady, wiser, fairer, truer,[1205] 275 Than ever Greek did compass in his arms;[1206] And will to-morrow 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; 280 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.