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. Ulys. He doth rely on none; But carries on the stream of his difpofe, Aga. Why will he not, upon our fair request, Uly. Things small as nothing, for request's fake only 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, And never fuffers matters of the world Enter his thoughts, fave such as do revolve (As amply titled, as Achilles is,) by going to Achilles: O And add more coals to Cancer, when he burns 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. Ajax. If I go to him -with 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 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. Ajax. He fhould not bear it fo, he fhould eat fwords first: 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. 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. 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; He muft, he is, he cannot but be wife: G 2 But But pardon, father Neftor, were your days 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 Fresh kings are come to Troy; to-morrow, friends, 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? Pan. You depend upon a noble gentleman: I must needs praise him. P Light boats may fail fwift, tho' great bulks draw deep. Ser. 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 |