6 Let Diomedes bear him, And he shall buy my daughter; and her presence Withal, bring word—if Hector will to-morrow Dio. This shall I undertake; and 'tis a burden [Exeunt DIOMEDES and CALCHAS. Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS, before their Tent. Ulyss. Achilles stands i'the entrance of his tent: To use between your strangeness and his pride, To show itself, but pride; for supple knees Achil. What, comes the general to speak with me? You know my mind, I'll fight no more 'gainst Troy. Agam. What says Achilles? would he aught with us? 6 In most accepted pain.] i. e. Her presence, says Calchas, shall strike off, or recompense the service I have done, even in those labours which were most accepted. JOHNSON. Nest. Would you, my lord, aught with the general? Achil. What mean these fellows? Know they not Achilles? Patr. They pass by strangely: they were us'd to bend, To send their smiles before them to Achilles ; To come as humbly, as they us'd to creep To holy altars. Achil. What, am I poor of late? 'Tis certain, greatness, once fallen out with fortune, Hath any honour; but honour for those honours Which when they fall, as being slippery standers, +"riches, and favour,"— MALONE. At ample point all that I did possess, Save these men's looks; who do, methinks, find out I'll interrupt his reading.— How now, Ulysses? Ulyss. Now, great Thetis' son? Achil. What are you reading? Ulyss. A strange fellow here Writes me, That man-how dearly ever parted, 7 How much in having, or without, or in, — Cannot make boast to have that which he hath, Nor feels not what he owes, but by reflection; As when his virtues shining upon others Heat them, and they retort that heat again To the first giver. Achil. This is not strange, Ulysses. Till it hath travell'd, and is married there It is familiar; but at the author's drift: (Though in and of him there be much consisting,) 7 how dearly ever parted,] However excellently endowed, with however dear or precious parts enriched or adorned. argument. in his circumstance,] In the detail or circumduction of his Where they are extended; which, like an arch, reverberates The voice again; or like a gate of steel Fronting the sun, receives and renders back His figure and his heat. I was much rapt in this; The unknown Ajax. 9 Heavens, what a man is there! a very horse; That has he knows not what. Nature, what things there are, Most abject in regard, and dear in use! What things again most dear in the esteem, And poor in worth! Now shall we see to-morrow, How some men creep in skittish fortune's hall, Achil. I do believe it: for they pass'd by me, A great-sized monster of ingratitudes : Those scraps are good deeds past: which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done: Perseverance, dear my lord, Keeps honour bright: To have done, is to hang 9 The unknown Ajax.] Ajax, who has abilities, which were never brought into view or use. JOHNSON. In monumental mockery. Take the instant way; That one by one pursue: If you give way, Or, like a gallant horse fallen in first rank, sent, Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours: That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand; pre And farewell goes out sighing. O, let not virtue seek Remuneration for the thing it was; For beauty, wit, High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, To envious and calumniating time. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin, More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.1 The present eye praises the present object : Then marvel not, thou great and complete man, And give to dust, that is a little gilt, 66 new More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.] Dust a little gilt means, ordinary performances ostentatiously displayed and magnified by the favour of friends and that admiration of novelty which prefers born gawds" to "things past." Gilt o'er-dusted means, splendid actions of preceding ages, the remembrance of which is weakened by time. |