Imatges de pàgina
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SCENE VIII.

Enter Ulyffes.

Ajax. I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendring of

toads.

Neft. Yet he loves himself: is't not strange?

Ulyf. Achilles will not to the field to-morrow.
Aga. What's his excufe?

Ulys. He doth rely on none;

But carries on the stream of his difpofe,
Without observance or refpect of any,
In will peculiar, and in self-admiffion.

Aga. Why will he not, upon our fair request,
Un-tent his person, and share the air with us?

Uly. Things small as nothing, for request's fake only
He makes important: he's poffeft with greatness,
And speaks not to himself, but with a pride
That quarrels at self-breath. Imagin'dTM worth
Holds in his blood fuch fwoln and hot discourse,
That 'twixt his mental and his active parts,
Kingdom'd Achilles in commotion rages,
And batters" down himself; what should I say?
He is so plaguy proud, that the death-tokens of it
Cry, no recovery.

Aga. Let Ajax go to him.

Dear lord, go you and greet him in his tent;

'Tis faid he holds you well, and will be led

At your request a little from himself.

Ulyf. O, Agamemnon, let it not be so.

We'll confecrate the fteps that Ajax makes,

When they go from Achilles. Shall the proud lord,

That baftes his arrogance with his own seam,

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And never fuffers matters of the world

Enter his thoughts, fave such as do revolve
And ruminate himself? fhall he be worship'd,
Of that we hold an idol more than he?
No, this thrice worthy and right valiant lord
Must not so stale his palm, nobly acquir'd,
Nor by my will affubjugate his merit,

(As amply titled, as Achilles is,) by going to Achilles:
That were to 'enlard his pride, already fat,

O

And add more coals to Cancer, when he burns
With entertaining great Hyperion.

This lord go to him? Jupiter forbid,

And say in thunder, Achilles go to him.

Neft. O this is well, he rubs the vein of him.
Dio. And how his filence drinks up this applause!

Ajax. If I go to him -with

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I'll pash him o'er the face.

Aga. O no, you shall not go.

my armed fift

Ajax. An he be proud with me, I'll pheese his pride; let me go to him.

Ulys. Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.

Ajax. A paultry infolent fellow
Neft. How he defcribes himself.
Ajax. Can he not be fociable?

Uly. The raven chides blackness,

Ajax. I'll let his humours blood.

Aga. He'll be the physician, that should be the patient.

Ajax. And all men were o'my mind -

Ulys. Wit would be out of fashion.

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Ajax. He fhould not bear it fo, he fhould eat fwords first:

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Ajax. I will knead him, I'll make him fupple, he's not yet through warm.

Neft. Force him with praises; pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry.

Ulys. My lord, you feed too much on this dislike.
Neft. Our noble general, do not do so.

Dio. You must prepare to fight without Achilles.

Ulys. Why, 'tis this naming of him doth him harm. Here is a man · -but 'tis before his face--

I will be filent.

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Neft. Wherefore should you fo:

He is not emulous, as Achilles is.

Ulys. Know the whole world, he is as valiant.

Ajax. A whorfon dog! that palters thus with us ---

Would he were a Trojan!

Neft. What a vice were it in Ajax now ---

Ulys. If he were proud.

Dio. Or covetous of praise.

Ulys. Ay, or furly born.

Dio. Or strange, or self-affected.

Uly. Thank the heav'ns, lord, thou art of fweet composure;

Praise him that got thee, her that gave thee fuck:

Fam❜d be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature

Thrice fam❜d beyond, beyond all erudition;
But he that disciplin'd thy arms to fight,
Let Mars divide eternity in twain,
And give him half; and for thy vigor,
Bull-bearing Milo his addition yields
To finewy Ajax; I'll not praise thy wisdom,
Which, like a bourn, a pale, a shore, confines
Thy spacious and dilated parts. Here's Neftor
Inftructed by the Antiquary times;

He muft, he is, he cannot but be wife:

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But

But pardon, father Neftor, were your days
As green as Ajax, and your brain so temper'd,
You should not have the eminence of him,
But be as Ajax.

Ajax. Shall I call you father?

Uly. Ay, my good fon.

Dio. Be rul'd by him, lord Ajax.

Uly. There is no tarrying here; the hart Achilles
Keeps thicket; please it our great general
To call together all his state of war;

Fresh kings are come to Troy; to-morrow, friends,
We must with all our main of pow'r stand fast:
And here's a lord (come knights from east to west,
And cull their flow'r,) Ajax, fhall cope the best.
Aga. Go we to council, let Achilles fleep;

Light boats fail swift, though greater hulks draw deep.

[Exeunt.

ACT III. SCENE I.

TROY

Enter Pandarus, and a Servant.

F

PANDAR US.

[Mufick within.]

RIEND! you! pray you a word: do not you follow the young lord Paris?

Ser. Ay Sir, when he goes before me.

Pan. You do depend upon him, I mean?
Ser. Sir, I do depend upon the lord.

Pan. You depend upon a noble gentleman: I

must needs praise him.

P Light boats may fail fwift, tho' great bulks draw deep.

Ser.

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Ser. The lord be praised.

Pan. You know me, do you not?

Ser. Faith, Sir, fuperficially.

Pan. Friend, know me better, I am the lord Pandarus.

Ser. I hope I fhall know your honour better.

Pan. I do defire it.

Ser. You are in the state of grace?

Pan. Grace? not fo, friend: honour and lordship are my titles: What mufick is this?

Ser. I do but partly know, Sir; it is musick in parts.

Pan. Know you the musicians?

Ser. Wholly, Sir.

Pan. Who play they to?

Ser. To the hearers, Sir.

Pan. At whose pleasure, friend?

Ser. At mine, Sir, and theirs that love musick.

Pan. Command, I mean, friend.

Ser. Who fhall I command, Sir?

Pan. Friend, we understand not one another: I am too courtly, and thou art too cunning. At whose request do these men play?

Ser. That's to't indeed, Sir; marry, Sir, at the request of Paris my lord, who's there in person; with him the mortal Venus, the heart-blood of beauty, love's invifible foul.

Pan. Who, my coufin Creffida?

Ser. No Sir, Helen; could you not find out that by her attributes ?

Pan. It should seem, fellow, that thou hast not seen the lady Creffida. I come to speak with Paris from the prince Troilus: I will make a complemental affault upon him, for my business seethes. Ser. Sodden business! there's a stew'd phrase indeed.

SCENE

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