The Works of William Shakespeare [Cambridge Edition] [Vol. 6 of 9]Shakespeare, William
General
The Works of William Shakespeare [Cambridge Edition] [Vol. 6 of 9]
Shakespeare, William
English drama
_Hect._ Not Neoptolemus so mirable,[2070]
On whose bright crest Fame with her loud'st Oyes
Cries 'This is he,' could promise to himself[2071]
A thought of added honour torn from Hector. 145
_Æne._ There is expectance here from both the sides,
What further you will do.
_Hect._ We'll answer it;
The issue is embracement: Ajax, farewell.[2072]
_Ajax._ If I might in entreaties find success,--
As seld I have the chance--I would desire 150
My famous cousin to our Grecian tents.
_Dio._ 'Tis Agamemnon's wish; and great Achilles
Doth long to see unarm'd the valiant Hector.
_Hect._ Æneas, call my brother Troilus to me:
And signify this loving interview 155
To the expecters of our Trojan part;
Desire them home. Give me thy hand, my cousin;
I will go eat with thee, and see your knights.[2073]
_Ajax._ Great Agamemnon comes to meet us here.
_Hect._ The worthiest of them tell me name by name; 160
But for Achilles, my own searching eyes[2074]
Shall find him by his large and portly size.
_Agam._ Worthy of arms! as welcome as to one[2075]
That would be rid of such an enemy;
But that's no welcome: understand more clear,[2076] 165
What's past and what's to come is strew'd with husks[2076]
And formless ruin of oblivion;[2076]
But in this extant moment, faith and troth,[2076]
Strain'd purely from all hollow bias-drawing,[2076][2077]
Bids thee, with most divine integrity,[2076] 170
From heart of very heart, great Hector, welcome.
_Hect._ I thank thee, most imperious Agamemnon.
_Agam._ [_To Troilus_] My well-famed lord of Troy, no less to you.
_Men._ Let me confirm my princely brother's greeting;
You brace of warlike brothers, welcome hither. 175
_Hect._ Who must we answer?
_Æne._ The noble Menelaus.[2078]
_Hect._ O, you, my lord! by Mars his gauntlet, thanks![2079]
Mock not, that I affect the untraded oath;[2080]
Your quondam wife swears still by Venus' glove:[2081]
She's well, but bade me not commend her to you. 180
_Men._ Name her not now, sir; she's a deadly theme.
_Hect._ O, pardon; I offend.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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