Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be;
Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing;
Things won are done; the foul's joy lies in doing:
That the belov'd knows nought, that knows not this;
Men prize the thing ungain'd, more than it is.
That she was never yet, that ever knew
Love got, fo fweet, as when defire did fue:
Atchievement is command; ungain'd, befeech.
Therefore this maxim out of love I teach;
That though my heart's content firm love doth bear,
Nothing of that shall from mine eyes appear.
[Exit. SCENE changes to Agamemnon's Tent in the Grecian Camp.
Trumpets. Enter Agamemnon, Neftor, Ulyffes, Diomedes, Menelaus, with others.
What grief hath fet the jaundice on your
The ample propofition, that hope makes
In all defigns begun on earth below,
Fails in the promis'd largenefs: checks and difafters
Grow in the veins of actions higheft rear'd;
As knots by the conflux of meeting fap
Infect the found pine, and divert his grain
Tortive and errant from his course of growth.
Nor, Princes, is it matter new to us,
That we come fhort of our fuppofe so far,
That after fev'n years' fiege, yet Troy-walls ftand;
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 gave't furmifed fhape. Why then, you Princes,
Do you with cheeks abath'd behold our works?
And think them fhame, which are, indeed, nought else But the protractive trials of great Jove,
To find perfiftive conftancy in men?
The fineness of which metal is not found
In fortune's love; for then, the bold and coward,
The wife and fool, the artift and unread,
The hard and foft, seem all affin'd, and kin;
But in the wind and tempeft of her frown,
Distinction with a broad and powerful fan,
Puffing at all, winnows the light away;
And what hath mafs, or matter by itself,
Lies rich in virtue, and unmingled.
Neft. With due obfervance of thy godlike feat, (5) Great Agamemnon, Neftor fhall apply
Thy lateft words. In the reproof of chance
Lies the true proof of men: the fea being smooth,
How many fhallow bauble boats dare fail
Upon her patient breaft, making their way
With thofe of nobler bulk?
But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage
The gentle Thetis, and anon, behold,
The Atrong-ribb'd bark thro' liquid mountains cuts;
Bounding between the two moift elements,
Like Perfeus' horfe: Where's then the faucy boat,
Whose weak untimber'd fides but even now
Co-rival'd greatnefs? or to harbour fled,
Or made a toaft for Neptune. Even fo
Doth valour's fhew and valour's worth divide
In ftorms of fortune. For in her ray and brightness,
The herd hath more annoyance by the brize
Than by the tyger: but when splitting winds
Make flexible the knees of knotted oaks,
And flies get under fhade; the thing of courage,
As rowz'd with rage, with rage doth fympathize;
And, with an accent tun'd in felf-fame key,
(5) With due Obfervance of thy goodly Seat,] Goodly is an Epithet carries no very great Compliment with it; and Neftor feems here to be paying Deference to Agamemnon's State and Pre-eminence, The old Books have it, to thy godly Seat; godlike, as I have reformed the Text, feems to me the Epithet defigned; and is very conformable to what Æneas afterwards fays of Agamemnon ;
Which is that God in Office, guiding Men?
So godlike Seat is here, State fupreme above other Commanders.
Returns to chiding fortune.
Thou great commander, nerve and bone of Greece,
Heart of our numbers, foul, and only fpirit,
In whom the tempers and the minds of all
Should be fhut up: hear, what Ulyffes fpeaks.
Befides th' applaufe and approbation
The which, moft mighty for thy place and fway, [To Aga.
And thou, most rev'rend for thy ftretcht-out life, [To Neit.
I give to both your speeches; which were fuch,
As Agamemnon and the hand of Greece
-Should hold up high in brafs; and fuch again,
As venerable Neftor (hatch'd in filver)
Should with a bond of air, ftrong as the axle-tree
On which heav'n rides, knit all the Grecians' ears
To his experienc'd tongue : yet let it please both
(Thou great, and wife) to hear Ulysses speak.
Agam. Speak, Prince of Ithaca: we lefs expect,
That matter needlefs, of importless burden,
Divide thy lips; than we are confident,
When rank Therfites opes his mastiff jaws,
We shall hear mufick, wit, and oracle.
Uly Troy, yet upon her bafis, had been down,
And the great Hector's fword had lack'd a master,
But for these instances.
The fpeciality of rule hath been neglected;
And, look, how many Grecian tents do ftand
Hollow upon this plain, fo many hollow factions.
When that the general is not like the hive,
To whom the foragers fhall all repair,
What honey is expected? degree being vizarded,
Th' unworthieft fhews as fairly in the mask.
The heav'ns themfelves, the planets, and this center,
Obferve degree, priority and place,
Infifture, courfe, proportion, feafon, form,
Office and cuftom, in all line of order:
And therefore is the glorious planet Sol
In noble eminence enthron'd and pher'd
Amidst the reft, whofe med'cinable eye
Corrects the ill afpects of planets evil,
And posts like the commandment of a King,
Sans check, to good and bad. But when the planets
In evil mixture to diforder wander,
What plagues, and what portents, what mutiny?
What raging of the fea? fhaking of earth?
Commotion in the winds? frights, changes, horrors,
Divert and crack, rend and deracinate
The unity and married calm of states
Quite from their fixure? Oh, when degree is fhaken, (Which is the ladder to all high defigns)
The enterprize is fick. How could communities,
Degrees in fchools, and brotherhoods in cities,
Peaceful commerce from dividable shores,
The primogeniture, and due of birth,
Prerogative of age, crowns, fcepters, lawrels,
(But by degree) ftand in authentick place?
Take but degree away, untune that string,
And hark what difcord follows; each thing meets
In mere oppugnancy. The bounded waters
Would lift their bofoms higher than the fhores,
And make a fop of all this folid globe :
Strength would be Lord of imbecillity,
And the rude fon would ftrike his father dead :
Force would be right; or rather, right and wrong
(Between whofe endless jar juftice refides)
Would lofe their names, and fo would juftice too.
Then every thing includes itself in power,
Power into will, will into appetite;
And appetite (an univerfal wolf,
So doubly feconded with will and power)
Muft make perforce an univerfal prey,
And laft eat up itfelf. Great Agamemnon!
This chaos, when degree is fuffocate,
- Follows the choaking:
And this neglection of degree is it,
That by a peace goes backward, in a purpose
It hath to climb. The General's difdain'd
By him one step below; he, by the next;
That next, by him beneath: fo every step,
Exampled by the firft pace that is fick
Of his fuperior, grow to an envious fever
Of pale and bloodless emulation.
And 'tis this fever that keeps Troy on foot,\
Not her own finews. To end a tale of length,
Troy in our weakness lives, not in her ftrength.
Neft. Moft wifely hath Ulyffes here discover'd
The fever, whereof all our power is fick.
Agam. The nature of the fickness found, Ulysses,
What is the remedy?
Uly. The great Achilles, whom opinion crowns
The finew and the fore-hand of our hoft,
Having his ear full of his airy fame,
Grows dainty of his worth, and in his tent
Lies mocking our defigns. With him, Patroclus,
Upon a lazy bed, the live-long day
And with ridiculous and aukward action
(Which, flanderer, he imitation calls)
He pageants us. Sometimes, great Agamemnon,
Thy topless deputation he puts on;
And like a ftrutting player, (whose conceit
Lies in his ham-ftring, and doth think it rich
To hear the wooden dialogue and found
"Twixt his ftretch'd footing and the fcaffoldage)
Such to-be-pitied and o'er-wrefted feeming
He acts thy greatnefs in and when he speaks,
'Tis like a chime a mending; with terms unfquar'd :
Which, from the tongue of roaring Typhon dropt,
Would feem hyperboles. At this fufty stuff
The large Achilles, on his preft-bed lolling,
From his deep cheft laughs out a loud applause:
Cries excellent! 'tis Agamemnon juft-
Now play me Neftor -hum, and stroke thy beard,
As he, being dreft to fome oration.
as near as the extremeft ends Of parallels as like, as Vulcan and his wife: Yet good Achilles ftill cries, excellent!
'Tis Neftor right! now play him me, Patroclus, Arming to anfwer in a night alarm :
And, then forfooth, the faint defects of age
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