Book 13
An Ajax for this armour, not an armour now is sought
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Let Dulychius match with theis, the horses whyght
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Of Rhesus, dastard Dolon, and the coward carpetknyght
King Priams Helen, and the stelth of Palladye by nyght.
Of all theis things was nothing doone by day nor nothing wrought
Without the helpe of Diomed. And therefore if yee thought
To give them to so small deserts, devyde the same, and let
Sir Diomed have the greater part. But what should Ithacus get
And if he had them, who dooth all his matters in the dark,
Who never weareth armour, who shootes ay at his owne mark
To trappe his fo by stelth unwares? The very headpeece may
With brightnesse of the glistring gold his privie feates bewray
And shew him lurking. Neyther well of force Dulychius were
The weyght of great Achilles helme uppon his pate to weare.
It cannot but a burthen bee (and that ryght great) to beare
(With those same shrimpish armes of his) Achilles myghty speare.
Agen his target graven with the whole huge world theron
Agrees not with a fearefull hand, and cheefly such a one
As taketh filching even by kynd. Thou Lozell, thou doost seeke
A gift that will but weaken thee, which if the folk of Greeke
Shall give thee through theyr oversyght, it will be unto thee
Occasion, of thyne emnyes spoyld not feared for to bee,
And flyght (wherein thou, coward, thou all others mayst outbrag)
Will hindred bee when after thee such masses thou shalt drag.
Moreover this thy sheeld that feeles so seeld the force of fyght
Is sound. But myne is gasht and hakt and stricken thurrough quyght
A thousand tymes, with bearing blowes. And therfore myne must walk
And put another in his stead. But what needes all this talk?
Lets now bee seene another whyle what eche of us can doo.
The thickest of our armed foes this armour throwe into,
And bid us fetch the same fro thence. And which of us dooth fetch
The same away, reward yee him therewith. Thus farre did stretch
The woordes of Ajax. At the ende whereof there did ensew
A muttring of the souldiers, till Laertis sonne the prew
Stood up, and raysed soberly his eyliddes from the ground
(On which he had a little whyle them pitched in a stound)
And looking on the noblemen who longd his woordes to heere
He thus began with comly grace and sober pleasant cheere:
My Lordes, if my desyre and yours myght erst have taken place,
