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SCENE I.-Troy.-Before PRIAM's Palace. Enter TROILUS arm'd, and PANDARUS.

an she be not, she has the mends in her own hands.

Tro. Good Pandarus! How now, Pandarus ? Pan. I have had my labour for my travel; illthought on of her, and ill-thought on of you: Tro. Call here my varlet, I'll unarm again : gone between and between, but small thanks for Why should I war without the walls of Troy, That find such cruel battle here within ? Each Trojan that is master of his heart, Let him to field: Triolus, alas! hath none. Pan. Will this geer ne'er be mended?

my labour.

Tro. What, art thou angry, Pandarus? what,

with me?

Pan. Because she is kin to me, therefore, Ishe's not so fair as Helen an she were not kin to me, she would be as fair on Friday, as Helen is on Sunday. But what care I? I care not, Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness va-an she were a black-a-moor; 'tis all one to me.

Tro. The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their strength,


But I am weaker than a woman's tear,
Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance;
Less valiant than the virgin in the night,
And skilless as unpractis'd infancy.

Pan. Well, I have told you enough of this; for my part, I'll not meddle nor make no further. He that will have a cake out of the wheat must tarry the grinding.

Tro. Have I not tarried?

Tro. Say 1, she is not fair?

Pan. I do not care whether you do or no. She's a fool to stay behind her father; let her to the Greeks; and so I'll tell her the next time I see her: for my part, I'll meddle nor make no more in the matter.

Tro. Pandarus,-
Pan. Not 1.

Tro. Sweet Pandarus,

Pan. Pray you, speak no more to me; I will Pan. Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry leave all as I found it, and there an end. the bolting.

Tro. Have I not tarried?

Pan. Ay, the bolting; but you must tarry the leavening.

Tro. Still have I tarried.

Pan. Ay, to the leavening; but here's yet, in the word, hereafter, the kneading, the making of the cake, the heating of the oven, and the baking: nay, you must stay the cooling too, or you may chance to burn your lips.

Tro. Patience herself, (what goddess she be)


Doth lesser blench at sufferance than I do
At Priam's royal table do I sit,
And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts,
So, traitor!-when she comes !--When is she
thence ?

Pan. Well, she looked yesternight fairer than ever 1 saw her look, or any woman else.

Tro. I was about to tell thee,-When my heart,

As wedged with a sigh, would rive § in twain, Lest Hector or my father should perceive me, I have (as when the sun doth light a storm,) Buried this sigh in wrinkle of a smile:

But sorrow that is couch'd in seeming gladness,

Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness. Pan. An her hair were not somewhat darker than Helen's, (well, go to,) there were no more comparison between the women,-But, for my part, she is my kinswoman: I would not, as they term it, praise her,-But I would somebody had heard ber talk yesterday, as I did. I will not dispraise your sister Cassandra's wit; but

Tro. O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus,-
When I do tell thee, there my hopes lie drown'd,
Reply not in how many fathoms deep
They lie indrench'd. I tell thee, I am mad
In Cressid's love: Thou answer'st, she is fair;
Pour'st in the open ulcer of my heart

Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice;
Handlest in thy discourse, oh! that her hand,
In whose comparison all whites are ink,
Writing their own reproach; To whose soft


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[Exit PANDARUS. An Alarum. Tro. Peace, you ungracious clamours ! peace, rude sounds!

Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair,
When with your blood you daily paint her thus.
I cannot fight upon this argument;
It is too starv'd a subject for my sword.
But Pandarus-O gods, how do you plague me!
I cannot come to Cressid, but by Paudar;
And he's as tetchy to be woo'd to woo,
As she is stubborn-chaste against all suit.
Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne's love,
What Cressid is, what Pandar, and what we
Her bed is India; there she lies, a pearl :
Between our Ilium and where she resides,
Let it be call'd the wild and wandering flood;
Ourself, the merchant; and this sailing Pan

Our doubtful hope, our convoy, and our bark.

Alarum. Enter ÆNEAS.

Ene. How now, prince Troilus? wherefore not afield?

Tro. Because not there. This woman's answer sorts ⚫

For womanish it is to be from thence.
What news, Æneas, from the field to-day?
Ene. That Paris is returned home, and hurt.
Tro. By whom, Æneas ?

Ene. Troilus, by Menelaus.

Tro. Let Paris bleed: 'tis but a scar to

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Tro. Better at home, if would I might, were may.[ther ?

But to the sport abroad;-Are you bound thiEne. In all swift haste.

Tro. Come, go we then together. [Exeunt.

SCENE 11.-The same.-A Street.


Cres. Who were those went by ? Alex. Queen Hecuba, and Helen. Cres. And whither go they? Aler. Up to the eastern tower, Whose height commands as subject all the vale To see the battle. Hector, whose patience Is as a virtue fix'd, to-day was mov'd: He chid Andromache, and struck his armourer; And, like as there were husbandry in war, Before the sun rose he was harness'd light, And to the field goes he; where every flower Did as a prophet weep what it foresaw In Hector's wrath.

Cres. What was his cause of anger ↑

• Is becoming.

Alex. The noise goes, this: There is among the Greeks

A lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Hector;
They call him, Ajax.

Cres. Good; And what of him ↑

Aler. They say he is a very man per se,⚫ And stands alone.

Cres. So do all men; unless they are drunk, sick, or have no legs.

Alex. This man, lady, hath robbed many beasts of their particular additions:+ he is as valiant as the lion churlish as the bear, slow as the elephant: a mar into whom nature hath so crouded humours, tha his valour is crushed into folly, his folly sancea with discretion: there is no man hath a virtue that he hath not a glimpse of; nor any man an attaint, but he carries some stain of it: he is melancholy without cause, and merry against the hair: He hath the joints of every thing; but every thing so out of joint, that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no use: or purblind Argus, all eyes and no sight. Cres. But how should this man, that makes me smile, make Hector angry?

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Pan. 'Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown.

Cres. To say the truth, true and not true.
Pan. She prais'd his complexion above Paris
Cres. Why, Paris hath colour enough.
Pan. So he has.

Cres. Then, Troilus should have too much : if she praised him above, his complexion is higher than his; be having colour enough, and the other higher, is too flaming a praise for a good complexion. I had as lief Helen's golden tongue had commended Troilus for a copper

Alex. They say, he yesterday coped Hector in the battle, and struck him down; the disdain and shame whereof hath ever since kept Hector fast-nose. ing and waking.


Ores. Who comes here?

Alex. Madam, your uncle Pandarus. Cres. Hector's a gallant man. Alex. As may be in the world, lady. Pan. What's that? what's that? Cres. Good morrow, uncle Pandarus. Pan. Good morrow, cousin Cressid: What do you talk of ?-Good morrow, Alexander.-How do you, cousin? When were you at Ilium ? Cres. This morning, uncle.

Pan. What were you talking of when I came ? Was Hector armed, and gone, ere ye came, to Ilium? Helen was not up, was she?

Cres. Hector was gone; but Helen was not up. Pan. E'en so; Hector was stirring early. Cres. That were we talking of, and of his anger.

Pan. Was he angry? Cres. So he says here.

Pan. True, he was so; I know the cause too; he'll lay about him to-day, I can tell them that: and there is Troilus will not come far behind him; let them take heed of Troilus; I can tell them that too.

Cres. What, is he angry too?

Pan. Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better man of the two.

Cres. O Jupiter! there's no comparison. Pan. What, not between Troilus and Hector? Do you know a man if you see him?

Cres. Ay; if ever I saw him before, and knew him.

Pan. Well, I say, Troilus is Troilus. Cres. Then you say as I say; for I am sure he is not Hector.

Pan. No, nor Hector is not Troilus, in some degrees.

Cres. 'Tis just to each of them; he is himself. Pan. Himself? Alas, poor Troilus! I would, he were,

Cres. So he is.

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Pan. I swear to you, I think Helen loves him better than Paris.

Cres. Then she's a merry Greek, indeed. Pan. Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him the other day into a compassed window, -and, you know, he has not past three or four hairs on his chin.

Cres. Indeed, a tapster's arithmetic may soon bring bis particulars therein to a total.

Pan. Why, he is very young and yet will he, within three pound, lift as much as his brother Hector.

Cres. Is he so young a man, and so old a lifter? +

Pan. But, to prove to you that Helen loves him;-she, came, and puts me her white hand to his cloven chin,

Cres. Juno have mercy -How came it cloven?

Pan. Why, you know, 'tis dimpled: I think, his smiling becomes him better than any man in all Phrygia.

Cres. Oh he smiles valiantly.

Pan. Does he not?

Cres. O yes, an 'twere a cloud in autumn. Pan. Why, go to then :-But to prove to you that Helen loves Troilus,

Cres. Troilus will stand to the proof, if you'll prove it so.

Pan. Troilus? why, he esteems her no more than I esteem an addle egg.

Cres. If you love an addle egg as well as you love an idle head, you would eat chickens i'the shell.

Pan. I cannot choose but laugh, to think how she tickled his chin;-Indeed, she has a marvellous white hand, I must needs confess. Cres. Without the rack.

Pan. And she takes upon her to spy a white hair on his chin.

Cres. Alas, poor chin! many a wart is richer. Pan. But there was such laughing;-Queen Hecuba laughed, that her eyes rau o'er. Cres. With mill-stones.

Pan. And Cassandra laughed.

Cres. But there was a more temperate fire under the pot of her eyes ;-Did her eyes run o'er too?

Pan. And Hector laughed.

Cres. At what was all this laughing?

Pan. Marry, at the white hair that Helen spied on Troilus' chin.

Cres. An't had been a green hair, I should have laughed too.

Pan. They laughed not so much at the hair, as at his pretty answer.

Bow window. ↑ Thief. ↑ A proverbial saying

Cres. What was his answer?

Cres. Can Helenus fight, uncle? Pan. Quoth she, Here's but one and fifty Pan Helenus? no ;-yes, he'll fight indiffer kairs on your chin, and one of them is white.ent well :-I marvel, where Troilus is !--Hark !Cres. This is her question. do you not hear the people cry, Troilus ?-Helenus is a priest.

Pan. That's true; make no question of that. One and fifty hairs, quoth he, and one white: That white hair is my father, and all the rest are his sons. Jupiter! quoth she, which of these hairs is Paris my husband? The forked one, quoth be; pluck it out and give it him. But, there was such laughing! and Helen so blushed, and Paris so chafed, and all the rest so laughed, that it passed.

Cres. So let it now; for it has been a great while going by.

Cres. What sneaking fellow comes yonder ?
TROILUS passes over.

Pan. Where? yonder? that's Deiphobus:
Tis Troilus! there's a man, niece!-Hem!-
Brave Troilus! the prince of chivalry !

Cres. Peace, for shame, peace!

Pan. Mark him; note him ;-0 brave Troilus ?-look well upon him, niece; look you, how his sword is bloodied, and his helm⚫ more

Pan. Well, cousin, I told you a thing yester-hack'd than Hector's; And how he looks, and day; think on't.

Cres. So I do.

how he goes!-O admirable youth! he ne'er saw three and twenty. Go thy way, Troilus, go

Pan. I'll be sworn, 'tis true; he will weep thy way; had I a sister were a grace, or a you, an 'twere a man born in April.

Cres. And I'll spring up in his tears, 'twere a nettle against May.

daughter a goddess, he should take his choice. anO admirable man! Paris ?-Paris is dirt to him; and I warrant, Helen, to change, would give an eye to boot.

[A Retreat sounded. Pan. Hark, they are coming from the field: Shall we stand up here, and see them as they pass toward Ilium? good niece, do; sweet niece Cressida.

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Pan, That's Hector, that, that, look you, that; There's a fellow !-Go thy way, Hector;-There's a brave man, niece.-O brave Hector 1-Look, how he looks! there's a countenance: Is't not a brave man ?

Cres. Oh a brave man!

Forces pass over the stage.
Cres. Here come more.

Pan. Asses, fools, dolts! chaff and bran, chaff and bran! porridge after meat! I could live and die i'the eyes of Troilus. Ne'er look, ne'er look; the eagles are gone; crows and daws, crows and daws! I had rather be such a man as Troilus, than Agamemnon and all Greece.

Cres. There is among the Greeks, Achilles ; a better man than Troilus.

Pan. Achilles ? a drayman, a porter, a very camel.

Cres. Well, well.

Pan. Well, well ?-Why, have you any discretion? have you any eyes? Do you know what a man is? Is not birth, beauty, good shape, discourse, manhood, learning, gentleness, virtue, youth, liberality, and such like, the spice and salt that season a man?

Cres. Ay, a minced man: and then to be baked with no date + in the pye,-for then the man's date is out.

Pan. You are such a woman! one knows not at what ward you lie.

Cres. Upon my back, to defend my belly; upon my wit, to defend my wiles; upon my secrecy, to defend mine honesty; my mask, to defend iny beauty; and you, to defend all these and at all these wards I lie, at a thousand watches. Pan. Say one of your watches.

Cres. Nay, I'll watch you for that; and that's one of the chiefest of them too: if I cannot ward what I would not have hit, I can watch you for telling how I took the blow; unless it swell Pan. Is a not? It does a man's heart good-past hiding, and then it is past watching. Look you what hacks are on his helmet? look you yonder, do you see? look you there! There's no jesting there's laying on; take't off who will, as they say: there be hacks! Cres. Be those with swords?

PARIS passes over.

Pan. Swords? any thing, he cares not: an the devil come to him, it's all one: By god's lid, it does one's heart good:-Yonder comes Paris, yonder comes Paris: look ye yonder, niere; Is't not a gallant man too, is't not?Way, this is brave now.-Who said he came hurt home to-day? he's not hurt: why this will do Helen's heart good now. Ha! 'would 1 could see Troilus now l-you shall see Troilus

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Pan. You are such another!

Enter TROILUS' Boy.

Boy. Sir, my lord would instantly speak with -Pan. Where?


Boy. At your own house; there he unarme him.

Pan. Good boy, tell him I come: [Exit BOY.] I doubt he be hurt.-Fare ye well, good niece.

Cres. Adieu, uncle.

Pan. I'll be with you, niece, by and by.
Cres. To bring, uncle,-

Pan. Ay, a token from Troilus.

Cres. By the same token you are a bawd.
Words, vows, griefs, tears, and love's full sa-

He offers in another's enterprize :
But more in Troilus thousand fold I see
Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be;

• Helmet. + An ingredient in all ancient pastry.
1 A metaphor from the art of defence.

Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing:
Things won are done, joy's soul lies in the doing:
That she belov'd knows nought, that knows not

Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is:
That she was never yet, that ever knew
Love got so sweet, as when desire did sue:
Therefore this maxim out of love I teach,-
Achievement is command; ungain'd beseech :
Then though my heart's content firm love doth

Nothing of that shall from mine eyes appear.


SCENE III-The Grecian Camp.-Before Agamemnon's Tent.

Trumpets. Enter AGAMEMNON, NESTOR,
ULYSSES, MENELAUS, and others.
Agam. Princes,

What grief hath set the jaundice on your cheeks?
The ample proposition, that hope makes
In all designs begun on earth below,
Fails in the promis'd largeness; checks and


As rous'd with rage, with rage doth sympathize,
And with an accent turn'd in self-same key,
Returns to chiding fortune.
Ulyss. Agamemnon,—

Thou great commander, nerve, and bone of

Heart of our numbers, soul and only spirit In whom the tempers and the minds of all Should be shut up,-hear what Ulysses speaks Besides the applause and approbation The which,-most mighty for thy place and sway,[To AGAMEMNONAnd thou most reverend for thy stretch'd-out life,[TO NESTOR, I give to both your speeches,-which were such, As Agamemnon and the hand of Greece Should hold up high in brass; and such again, As venerable Nestor, hatch'd in silver, Should with a bond of air (strong as the axletree


On which heaven rides,) knit all the Greckish [both,To his experienc'd tongue,-yet let it please dis-Thou great,—and wise,-to hear Ulysses speak. Agam. Speak, prince of Ithaca; and be't of less expect⚫

Grow in the veins of actions highest rear'd;
As knots, by the conflux of meeting sap,
Infect the sound pine, and divert his grain
Tortive and errant from his course of growth.
Nor, princes, is it matter new to us,
That we come short of our suppose so far,
That, after seven years' siege, yet Troy walls

Sith every action that hath gone before,
Whereof we have record, trial did draw
Bias and thwart, not answering the aim,
And that unbodied figure of the thought
That gav't surmised shape. Why then, you

Do you with cheeks abash'd behold our works; Aud thing them shames, which are, indeed, nought else

But the protractive trials of great Jove.
To find persistive constancy in men ?
The fineness of which metal is not found
In fortune's love; for then, the bold


The wise and fool, the artist and unread,
The hard and soft, seem all affin'd‡ aud kin :
But, in the wind and tempest of her frown,
Distinction, with a broad and powerful fau,
Puffling at all, winnows the light away;
And what hath mass or matter, by itself
Lies, rich in virtae, and unmingled.

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And the great Hector's sword had lack'd a mas
But for these instances.

The speciality of rule + hath been neglected;
And, look, how many Grecian tents do stand
Hollow upon this plain, so many hollow fac-

When that the general is not like the hive,
To whom the foragers shall all repair,
What honey is expected? Degree being viz-
arded, t

The unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask.
The heavens themselves, the planets, and this

and Observe degree, priority, and place,

Nest. With due observance of thy godlike seat, §

Great Agamemnon, Nestor shall apply
Thy latest words. In the reproof of chance
Lies the true proof of men: The sea being

How many shallow bauble boats dare sail
Upon her patient breast, making their way
With those of noble bulk.

But let the ruftian Boreas once enrage
The gentler Thetis, || and, anon, behold
The strong ribb'd bark through liquid moun-
tains cut,

Bounding between the two moist elements,
Like Perseus' horse; Where's then the saucy

Whose weak untimber'd sides but even now
Co-rival'd greatness? either to harbour fled,
Or made a toast for Neptune. Even so
Doth valour's show, and valour's worth, divide,
In storins of fortune: For, in her ray and

The herd hath more annoyance by the brize, ¶
Than by the tiger: but when the splitting wind
Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks,
And flies fed under shade, why, then the thing
of courage

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Insisture, course, proportion, season, form,
Office, and custom, in all line of order:
And therefore is the glorious planet, Sol,
In noble eminence enthron'd and spher'd
Amidst the other; whose med'cinable eye
Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil,
And posts, like the commandment of a king,
Sans cheek, to good and bad: But when the

In evil mixture, to disorder wander,
What plagues, and what portents? what mutiny ?
What raging of the sea? shaking of earth?
Commotion in the winds? frights, changes, hor-


Divert and crack, rend and deracinate ¶
The unity and married calm of states
Quite from their fixture? Oh! when degree is

Which is the ladder of all high designs,
The enterprize is sick! How could commu.

Degrees in schools, and brotherhoods ** in cities,
Peaceful commerce from dividable + shores,
The primogenitive and due of birth,
Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels,
But by degree, stand in authentic place?
Take but degree away, untune that string,
And, hark, what discord follows! each thing

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Force should be right; or, rather, right and [ With an imperial voice,, many are infect.


(Between whose endless jar justice resides,) Should lose their names, and so should justice


Then every thing includes itself in power,
Power into will, will into appetite;

And appetite, a universal wolf,

So doubly seconded with will and power,
Must make perforce a universal prey,

And, last, eat up himself. Great Agamemnon,
This chaos, when degree is suffocate,
Follows the choking.

And this neglection of degree it is,

That by a pace goes backward, with a purpose
It hath to climb. The general's disdain'd
By him one step below; he, by the next;
That next, by him beneath so every step,
Exampled by the first pace that is sick
Of his superior, grows to an envious fever
Of pale and bloodless emulation:

And 'tis this fever that keeps Troy on foot,
Not her own sinews. To end a tale of length,
Troy in our weakness stands, not in her

Nest. Most wisely hath Ulysses here discover'd

The fever whereof ali our power is sick.
Agam. The nature of the sickness found,
What is the remedy?

Ulyss. The great Achilles,-whom opinion

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Ajax is grown self-will'd; and bears his head
In such a reign, 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.

Ulyss. 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 call them on; and know, by mea-


Of their observant toil, the enemies' weight,—
Why, this hath not a tinger's dignity:
They call this-bed-work, mappery, closet-war :
So that the ram, that batters down the wall,
For the great swing and rudeness of his poise,
They place before his hand that made the en-

Or those, that with the fineness of their souls
By reason guide his execution.

Nest. Let this be granted, and Achilles' horse Makes many Thetis' sons.

[Trumpet sounds. Agam. What trumpet ? look, Menelaus. Enter ENEAS.

Men. From Troy.

Agam. What would you 'fore our tent?
Ene. Is this

Great Agamemnon's tent, I pray?
Agam. Even this.

Ene. May one, that is a herald and a prince, Do a fair message to his kingly ears?

Agam. With surety stronger than Achilles' arm, 'Fore all the Greekish heads, which with one voice

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 un-I
squar'd, ¶
Which, from the tongue of roaring Typhon
Would seem hyperboles. At this fusty stuff,
The large Achilles, on his press'd bed lolling,
From his deep chest laughs out a loud ap-


Cries-Excellent!-'tis Agamemnon just.Now play me Nestor;-hem, and stroke thy beard,

As he, being dress'd to some oration.
That's done as near as the extremest ends
Of parallels; as like as Vulcan and his wife.
Yet good Achilles still cries, Excellent!
'Tis Nestor right! Now play him me, Patro-

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, Patro-


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Call Agamemnon head and general.

Ene. Fair leave, and large security. How may A stranger to those most imperial looks Know them from eyes of other mortals! Agam. How?

Ene. Ay;

ask, that I might waken reverence,
And bid the cheek be ready with a blush
Modest as morning when she coldly eyes
The youthful Phœbus:

Which is that god in office, guiding men?
Which is the high and mighty Agamemnon ↑
Agam. This Trojan scorns us; or the men of

Are ceremonious courtiers.

Ene. 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, Æneas,
Peace, Trojan; lay thy finger on thy lips!
The worthiness of praise distains his worth,
If that the prais'd himself bring the praise

But what the repining enemy commends,
That breath fame follows; that praise, sole pure,

Agam. Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself

Ene. Ay, Greek, that is my name.
Agam! What's your affair, I pray you?
Ene. Sir, pardon; 'tis for Agamemnon's

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