And ruminate himself,-shall he be worshipp'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, assubjugate his merit,
As amply titled as Achilles is,

By going to Achilles :

That were to enlard his fat-already pride;
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.

Nest. O, this is well; he rubs the vein of him.

[Aside.

Dio. And how his silence drinks up this applause!

Aside.

Ajax. If I go to him, with my arm'd fist I'll pash2 him

Over the face.

Agam.

O, no, you shall not go.

Ajax. An he be proud with me, I'll pheeze3 his pride:

Let me go to him.

Ulyss. Not for the worth that hangs upon our

quarrel.

Ajax. A paltry, insolent fellow,

Nest.

Himself!

[Aside.

How he describes

The raven
[Aside.

Chides blackness.

Ajax.

I will let his humours blood.

Agam. He'll be physician, that should be the

patient.

Ajax. An all men

[Aside.

(1) The sign in the zodiac into which the sun enters June 21. 'And Cancer readens with the

solar blaze.'

(2) Strike.

THOMSON.

(3) Comb or curry.

Were o' my mind,—
Ulyss.

Wit would be out of fashion.

Ajax. He should not bear it so,

[Aside.

He should eat swords first: Shall pride carry it? Nest. An 'twould, you'd carry half.

Ulyss.

[Aside.

He'd have ten shares.

[Aside.

Ajax. I'll knead him, I will make him supple :Nest. He's not yet thorough warm: force' him with praises:

Pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry.

[Aside. Ulyss. My lord, you feed too much on this dis[To Agamemnon. Nest. O noble general, do not do so.

like.

Dio. You must prepare to fight without Achilles, Ulyss. Why, 'tis this naming of him does him harm.

Here is a man-But 'tis before his face;

I will be silent.

Nest.

Wherefore should you so?

He is not emulous,2 as Achilles is.

Ulyss. Know the whole world, he is as valiant. Ajax. A whoreson dog, that shall palter3 thus with us!

would, he were a Trojan!

Nest.

Were it in Ajax now

What a vice

Ulyss

If he were proud?

Ay, or surly borne ?

Dio. Or covetous of praise?

Ulyss

Dio. Or strange, or self-affected?

Ulyss. Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet composure;

Praise him that got thee, she that gave thee suck: Fam'd be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature Thrice-fam'd, beyond all erudition :

But he that disciplin'd thy arms to fight,

(1) Stuff.

(2) Envious.

(3) Trifle.

Let Mars divide eternity in twain,
And give him half and, for thy vigour,
Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield

To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom,
Which, like a bourn,2 a pale, a shore, confines
Thy spacious and dilated parts: Here's Nestor,-
Instructed by the antiquary times,

He must, he is, he cannot but be wise :-
But pardon, father Nestor, 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.

Ајах.

Shall I call you father?

Nest. Ay, my good son.
Dio.

Be rul'd by him, lord Ajax. Ulyss. 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,
We must with all our main of power stand fast:
And here's a lord,-come knights from east to west,
And cull their flower, Ajax shall cope the best.
Agam. Go we to council. Let Achilles sleep:
Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw
deep.
[Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I-Troy. A room in Priam's palace. Enter Pandarus and a Servant.

Pan. Friend! you! pray you, a word: Do not you follow the young lord Paris?

Serv. Ay, sir, when he goes before me.
Pan. You do depend upon him, I mean.

(1) Titles.

(2) Stream, rivulet.

G

Serv. Sir, I do depend upon the lord.

Pan. You do depend upon a noble gentleman; I must needs praise him.

Serv. The lord be praised!

Pan. You know me, do you not?

Serv. 'Faith, sir, superficially.

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

Serv. I hope, I shall know your honour better. Pan. I do desire it.

Serv. You are in the state of grace.

[Music within. Pan. Grace! not so, friend; honour and lordship are my titles:-What music is this?

Serv. I do but partly know, sir; it is music in parts.

Pan. Know you the musicians?

Serv. Wholly, sir.

Pan. Who play they to?

Serv. To the hearers, sir.

Pan. At whose pleasure, friend?

Serv. At mine, sir, and theirs that love music.
Pan. Command, I mean, friend.

Serv. Who shall 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?

Serv. That's to't, indeed, sir: Marry, sir, at the request of Paris my lord, who is there in person; with him, the mortal Venus, the heart-blood of beauty, love's invisible soul,

Pan. Who, my cousin Cressida ?

Serv. No, sir, Helen; Could you not find out that by her attributes?

Pan. It should seem, fellow, that thou hast not seen the lady Cressida. I come to speak with Paris from the prince Troilus : I will make a complimental assault upon him, for my business seeths.

(1) Boils.

Serv. Sodden business! there's a stewed phrase, indeed!

Enter Paris and Helen, attended.

Pan. Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair company! fair desires, in all fair measure, fairly guide them! especially to you, fair queen! fair thoughts be your fair pillow!

Helen. Dear lord, you are full of fair words. Pan. You speak your fair pleasure, sweet queen.--Fair prince, here is good broken music.

Par. You have broke it, cousin and, by my life, you shall make it whole again; you shall piece it out with a piece of your performance :-Nell, he is full of harmony.

Pan. Truly, lady, no.

Helen. O, sir,

Pan. Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude. Par. Well said, my lord! well, you say so in fits.1 Pan. I have business to my lord, dear queen :My lord, will you vouchsafe me a word?

Helen. Nay, this shall not hedge us out: we'll hear you sing, certainly.

Pan. Well, sweet queen, you are pleasant with me. But (marry) thus, my lord,-My dear lord, and most esteemed friend, your brother TroilusHelen. My lord Pandarus; honey-sweet lord,Pan Go to, sweet queen, go to:-commends himself most affectionately to you.

Helen. You shall not bob us out of our melody; If you do, our melancholy upon your head!

Pan. Sweet queen, sweet queen; that's a sweet queen, i'faith.

Helen. And to make a sweet lady sad, is a sour offence.

Pan. Nay, that shall not serve your turn; that shall it not, in truth, la. Nay, I care not for such words; no, no.-And, my lord, he desires you, that,

(1) Parts of a song.