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les, Arbilles is a fool to be commanded of Agamemnon, Tber fites is a fool to ferve such a fool, and Patroclus is a fool positive.
Pat. Why am I a fool ?
Tber. Make that demand to thy creator ; it suffices me chou art.
S CE N E VI.
Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Nestor, Diomedes, Ajax,
and Calchas. Look you, who comes here?
Achil. Patroclus, I'll speak with no body : come in with me, Therfites.
[Exit. Tber. Here is such patchery, such jugling, and such knavery: all the argument is a cuckold and a whore, a good quarrel to draw emulous factions, and bleed to death upon : now the dry Serpigo on the subject! and war and lechery confound all !
[Exit. Aga, Where is Achilles ? Pat. Within his tent, but ill dispos'd, my Lord.
Aga. Let it be known to him that we are here.
[Exit. Ulyf. We saw him at the opening of his tent, He is not sick.
Ajax. Yes, lion-lick, fick of a proud heart : you may call it melancholy, if you will favour the man; butz by my head, 'tis pride ; but why, why? --let him shew us the cause. A word, my Lord, (To Agamemnon.
Neft. What moves Ajax thus to bay at him?
Uly. 7 He shent our
Neft. Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost his argument.
Ulys. No, you see he is his argument, that has his argument, Achilles.
Nest. All the better, their fraction is more our wish than their faction ; but it was a strong counsel that a fool could difunite.
Ulys. The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untye.
S CE N E E VII.
Here comes Patroclus.
Ulyf. The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesie ; His legs are for necessity, not flexure.
Pat. Achilles bids me say, he is much sorry,
Aga. Hear you, Patroclus ;
Here tend the favage strangeness he puts on,
Pat. I shall, and bring his answer presently. (Exit.
Aga. In fecond voice we'll not be satisfied;
Ajax. What is he more than another?
Ajax. Is he so much? do you not think he thinks himielf a better man than I am ?
Aga. No question.
Aga. No, noble Ajax, you are as strong, as valiant, as wise, no less noble, much more gentle, and alcogether more tractable.
Ajax. Why should a man be proud? how doth pride grow? I know not what it is.
Aga. Your mind is clearer, Ajax, and your virtues the fairer ; he that is proud eats up himself. Pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle; and whatever praises ' 'but it self in the deed, devours the deed in the praise. S CE 'N
Enter Ulysses. Ajax. I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendring of toads.
Nei. & His course and times, or His pettish Lines.
9 it self but
Neft. Yet he loves himself: is't not strange?
Ulys. He doth rely on none ;
Aga. Why will he not, upon our fair request,
Ulys. Things small as nothing, for request's sake only,
Aga. Let Ajax go to him.
Uly. O, Agamemnon, let it not be so.
And I death-tokens of it 2 he ?
3 That were t'inlard
And add more coals to Cancer, when he burns
Neji. O, this is well, he rubs che vein of him.
Ajax. If I go to him with my armed fift
Aza. O no, you shall not go.
Ajax. An he be proud with me, I'll pheese his pride ; Let me go to him
Ulyf. Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.
Ajax. He should not bear it so, he thould eat swords first : shall pride carry it?
Neft. An 'would, you'd carry half.
Ajax. I will knead him, I'll make him supple, Nest. He's not yet through warm, force him with praises ; pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry.
Ulys. My Lord, you feed too much on this dinike. 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.
Neft. Wherefore should you fo? He is not emulous, as Achilles is.
Ulys. 4 Ajax. I will knead him, I'll make him supple, he is not yet through warm.
Nej. Force him with praises, &r.... oldiedit. Theob. emend.