Conduct in War superior to Action. The still and mental parts,

measure

That do contrive how many hands shall strike
When fitness calls them on; and know, by
Of their observant toil, the enemies' weight—
Why, this hath not a finger's dignity;
They call this bed-work, mapp'ry, closet war:
So that the ram, that batters down the wall,
For the great swing and rudeness of his poize,
They place before his hand that made the engine;
Or those, that with the fineness of their souls
By reason guide his execution.

Adversity the Trial of Man.
Why then, you princes,
Do you with cheeks abash'd behold our works,
And think them shames, which are indeed
nought else

But the protractive trials of great Jove,
To find persistive constancy in men?

The fineness of which metal is not found
In fortune's love; for then, the bold and coward,
The wise and fool, the artist and unread,
The hard and soft, seem all affin'd and kin:

But in the wind and tempest of her frown,
Distinction, with a broad and pow'rful fan,
Puffing at all, winnows the light away;
And what hath mass, or matter, by itself,
Lies rich in virtue, and unmingled.

Achilles described by Ulysses.

The great Achilles-whom opinion crowns The sinew and the fore-hand of our hostHaving his ear full of his airy fame, Grows dainty of his worth, and in his tent Lies mocking our designs: with him PatroUpon a lazy bed, the live-long day [clus, Breaks scurril jests;

And with ridiculous and awkward action (Which, slanderer! he imitation calls) He pageants us. Sometime, great Agamemnon, And, like a strutting player-whose conceit Thy topless deputation he puts on; Lies in his hamstring, and doth think it rich To hear the wooden dialogue and sound "Twixt his stretch'd footing and the scaffoldage, Such to be pitied and o'erwrested seeming He acts thy greatness in: and when he speaks, 'Tis like a chime a-mending: with terms unsquar'd,

Which, from the tongue of roaring Typhon

dropt,

Would seem hyperboles. At this fusty stuff, The large Achilles, on his prest bed lolling, From his deep chest laughs out a loud applause; Cries Excellent! 'tis Agamemuon just! Now play me Nestor-hem, and stroke thy beard,

As he, being drest to some oration."

That's done as near as the extremest ends
Of parallels; as like as Vulcan and his wife:
Yet good Achilles still cries-" Excellent!
'Tis Nestor right! Now play him me, Patro-
Arming to answer in a night-alarm." [clus,
And then, forsooth, the faint defects of age
Must be the scene of mirth; to cough and spit,
And, with a palsy fumbling on his gorget,
Shake in and out the rivet :-and at this sport

Sir Valor dies; cries-"O! enough, Patroclus,
Or give me ribs of steel! I shall split all
In pleasure of my spleen." And, in this fashion
All our abilities, gifts, natures, shapes,
Severals and generals of grace exact,
Achievements, plots, orders, preventions,
Excitements to the field, or speech for truce,
Success or loss, what is or is not, serves
As stuff for these two to make paradoxes.
Respect.

I ask, that I might weaken reverence,
And bid the cheek be ready with a blush
Modest as morning, when she coldly eyes
The youthful Phoebus.

Doubt.

The wound of peace is surety,
Surety secure; but modest doubt is call'd
The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches
To the bottom of the worst.

Pleasure and Revenge.
Pleasure, and revenge,

Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice
Of any true decision.

The Subtlety of Ulysses, and Stupidity of Ajax. Ajax. I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendering of toads.

Nest. Yet he loves himself: is it not strange?
[Aside.

Ulys. Achilles will not to the field to-mor-
Aga. What's his excuse?

[row.

Ulys. He doth rely on none; But carries on the stream of his dispose, Without observance or respect of any, In will peculiar, and in self-admission. Aga. Why will he not, upon our fair request, Untent his person, and share the air with us? Ulys. Things small as nothing, for request's sake only, [ness; He makes important: possest he is with greatAnd speaks not to himself, but with a pride That quarrels at self-breath: imagin'd worth Holds in his blood such swoln 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 said, he holds you well; and will be led, At your request, a little from himself.

Ulys. O Agamemnon, let it not be so! We'll consecrate the steps that Ajax makes, When they go from Achilles: shall the proud lord

That bastes his arrogance with his own seam,
And never suffers inatter of the world
Enter his thoughts, save such as do revolve
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 armed fist I'll pash him o'er the face.

Aga. O no, you shall not go.

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.

[Aside.

Ajax. A paltry, insolent fellow !
Nest. How he describes himself!
Ajax. Can he not be sociable?
Ulys. The raven chides blackness. [Aside.
Ajax. I'll let his humors blood.

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

[Aside.

Ajax. An all men were o' my mind-
Ulys. Wit would be out of fashion. [Aside.
Ajax. He should not bear it so;

He should eat swords first: shall pride carry it?
Nest. An 'twould, you'd carry half. [Aside.
Ulys. He would have ten shares. [Aside.
Ajax. I will knead him, I'll make him
supple.
[him
Nest. He is not yet thorough warm; force
With praises; pour in; his ambition's dry.

[Aside.

Ulys. My lord, you feed too much on this dislike,

Nest. O noble general, do not do so. Dio. You must prepare to fight without Achilles. [him harm. Ulys. Why, 'tis this naming of him does Here is a man-but 'tis before his faceI will be silent.

[liant.

Nest. Wherefore should you so? He is not emulous, as Achilles is. Ulys. Know the whole world, he is as vaAjax. A whoreson dog! that shall palter thus with us!

Would he were a Trojan.

Nest. What a vice were it in Ajax now-
Ulys. If he were proud?
Dio. Or covetous of praise?

Ulys. Ay, or surly borne?

Dio. Or strange, or self-affected?

Ulys. Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of

sweet composure:

[suck: Praise him that got thee, she that gave thee 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, Let Mars divide eternity in twain, And give him half; and for thy vigor, Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom, Which, like a bourn, 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.

Ajax. Shall I call you father?
Ulys. Ay, my good son.

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

Ulys. 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 shall cope the best. Aga. Go we to council. Let Achilles sleep: Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw deep. [Exeunt.

An expecting Lover.

No, Pandarus: I stalk about her door,
Like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks
Staying for waftage. O, be thou my Charon,
And give me swift transportance to those fields,
Where I may wallow in the lily beds
Propos'd for the deserver! O gentle Pandarus,
From Cupid's shoulders pluck his painted
And fly with me to Cressid'! [wings,

I am giddy; expectation whirls me round.
The imaginary relish is so sweet

That it enchants my sense; what will it be,
When that the watery palate tastes indeed
Love's thrice-reputed nectar? Death, I fear me;
Swooning destruction; or some joy too fine,
Too subtle-potent, and too sharp in sweetness,
For the capacity of my ruder powers;
I fear it much; and I do fear besides
That I shall lose distinction in my joys;
As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps
The enemy flying.

My heart beats thicker than a fev'rous pulse;
And all my powers do their bestowing lose,
Like vassalage at unawares encount'ring
The eye of majesty.

Constancy in love protested.
Troilus. True swains in love shall in the
world to come
[rhymes,
Approve their truths by Troilus; when their
Full of protest, of oath, and big compare,
Want similes; truth tir'd with iteration-
As true as steel, as plantage to the moon,
As sun to day, as turtle to her mate,

As iron to adamant, as earth to the centre-
Yet, after all comparisons of truth,
As truth's authentic author to be cited,
As true as Troilus, shall crown up the verse,
And sanctify the numbers.

Cres. Prophet may you be!

If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth,
When time is old and hath forgot itself,

Upbraid my falsehood! when they have said— as false

As air, as water, wind, or sandy earth,
As fox to lamb, as wolf to heifer's calf,
Pard to the hind, or step-dame to her son-
Yea, let them say, to stick the heart of false-
hood,

As false as Cressid.

Pride cures Pride. Pride hath no other glass To show itself, but pride: for supple knees Feed arrogance, and are the proud man's fees. Greatness contemptible when it declines. 'Tis certain, greatness, once fallen out with fortune, [is, Must fall out with men too: what the declin'd He shall as soon read in the eyes of others, As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies, Show not their mealy wings but to the summer: And not a man, for being simply man, Hath any honor; but honor for those honors That are without him, as place, riches, favor, Prizes of accident as oft as merit; Which when they fall, as being slippery standers, The love that lean'd on them is slippery too, Do one pluck down another, and together Die in the fall.

Honor: continued Acts necessary to preserve its Lustre.

Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back,
Wherein he puts alms for oblivion,
A great-siz'd 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 honor bright: to have done, is to hang
Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail,
In monumental mockery. Take the instant

way,

For honor travels in a strait so narrow,
Where one but goes abreast: keep then the
For emulation hath a thousand sons, path;
That one by one pursue; if you give way,
Or hedge aside from the direct forthright,
Like to an enter'd tide they all rush by,
And leave you hindmost-

Or, like a gallant horse fall'n in first rank,
Lie there for pavement to the abject rear,
O'er-run and trampled on; then what they do
in present,
[yours:
Though less than yours in past, must o'er-top
For time is like a fashionable host, [hand;
That slightly shakes his parting guest by the
And with his arms outstretch'd, as he would fly,
Grasps in the comer: welcome ever smiles,
And farewell goes out sighing. O, let not

virtue seek

Troy,

And blind oblivion swallow'd cities up,
And mighty states characterless are grated
To dusty nothing; yet let memory,
From false to false, among false maids in love,

One touch of nature makes the whole world

kin[gauds, That all with one consent praise new-born Though they are made and moulded of things And give to dust, that is a little gilt, [past;

More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.
The present eye praises the present object.
Love shook off by a Soldier.
Sweet, rouse yourself; and the weak, wan-
ton Cupid

Shall from your neck unloose his am'rous fold,
And, like a dew-drop from the lion's mane,
Be shook to air.

Lovers parting in the Morning.

Troil. O Cressida! but that the busy day,
Wak'd by the lark, has rous'd the ribald crows,
And dreaming night will hide our joys no
I would not from thee.
[longer,

Cres. Night hath been too brief.
Troil. Beshrew the witch! with venomous
wights she stays,

As tediously as hell; but flies the grasps of love
With wings more momentary swift than
thought.
Lovers Farewell.

Injurious time now, with a robber's haste,
Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how:
As many farewells as be stars in heaven,
With distinct breath and consign'd kisses to
them,

He fumbles up into a loose adieu;
And scants us with a single famish'd kiss,
Distasted with the salt of broken tears.

Troilus's Character of the Grecian Youths. The Grecian youths are full of quality, They're loving, well compos'd, with gifts of nature flowing,

And swelling o'er with arts and exercise; How novelty may move, and parts with person, Alas! a kind of godly jealousy

(Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin), Makes me afeard.

A Trumpeter.

Now crack thy lungs, and split thy brazen Blow villain, till thy sphered bias cheek [pipe: Outswell the cholic of puft Aquilon: Come, stretch thy chest, and let thy eyes pour blood;

Thou blow'st for Hector.

Diomedes' Manner of Walking.
"Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait;
He rises on the toe: that spirit of his
In aspiration lifts him from the earth.
Description of Cressida.

There's language in her eye, her cheek, her
lip,
[out
Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look
At every joint and motive of her body.
O these encounterers, so glib of tongue,
That give a coasting welcome ere it comes,
And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts

Το
every ticklish reader! set them down
For sluttish spoils of opportunity,
And daughters of the game.

The Character of Troilus.

The youngest son of Priam, a true knight. Not yet mature, yet matchless: firm of word; Speaking in deeds, and deedless in his tongue; Not soon provok'd, nor, being provok'd, soon calm'd:

His heart and hand both open, and both free; For what he has, he gives; what thinks, he shows;

Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty,
Nor dignifies an impair thought with breath:
Manly as Hector, but more dangerous;
For Hector, in his blaze of wrath, subscribes
To tender objects; but he, in heat of action,
Is more vindicative than jealous love.

Hector in Battle.

Laboring for destiny, make cruel way
I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft,
Through ranks of Greekish youths: and I have
As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed,
seen thee,
Despising many forfeits and subduements,
When thou hast hung thy advanced sword
i' the air,

Not letting it decline on the declin'd;
That I have said to some my standers-by,
And I have seen thee pause, and take thy
"Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life!
breath,
[thee in,
Like an Olympian wrestling.
When that a ring of Greeks have hemm'd

Achilles surveying Hector.

body

Tell me, you heavens, in which part of his [there; Shall I destroy him? whether there, there, And make distinct the very breach, whereout That I may give the local wound a name; Hector's great spirit flew. Answer me, hea

vens!

§ 37. Sebastian and Dorax.

DRYDEN. Re-enter Dorax, having taken off his Turban, and put on an European Habit. Dor. Now do you know me? Seb. Thou shouldst be Alonzo. Dor. So you should be Sebastian; But when Sebastian ceas'd to be himself I ceas'd to be Alonzo.

Seb. As in a dream

I see thee here, and scarce believe mine eyes. Dor. Is it so strange to find me where my

wrongs,

And your inhuman tyranny, have sent me? Think not you dream: or, if you did, my injuries Shall call so loud, that lethargy should wake; And death should give you back to answer me. A thousand nights have brush'd their balmy wings

Over these eyes; but ever, when they clos'd,
Your tyrant image forc'd them ope again,
And dried the dews they brought.

The long expected hour is come at length,
By manly vengeance to redeem my fame:
And, that once clear'd, eternal sleep is welcome.
Seb. I have not yet forgot I am a king,
Whose royal office is redress of wrongs:
If I have wrong'd thee, charge me face to face;
I have not yet forgot I am a soldier. [me;

Dor. 'Tis the first justice thou hast ever done Then, tho' I loathe this woman's war of tongue, Yet shall my cause of vengeance first be clear: And, honor, be thou judge.

Seb. Honor befriend us both. Beware! I warn thee yet to tell thy griefs In terms becoming majesty to hear: I warn thee thus, because I know thy temper Is insolent and haughty to superiors: How often hast thou brav'd my peaceful court, Fill'd it with noisy brawls, and windy boasts; And with past service, nauseously repeated, Reproach'd even me, thy prince!

[ward,

Dor. And well I might, when you forgot reThe part of Heaven in kings: for punishment Is hangman's work, and drudgery for devils. I must and will reproach thee with my service, Tyrant!-it irks me so to call my prince, But just resentment and hard usage coin'd Th' unwilling word; and grating as it is, Take it, for 'tis thy due.

Seb. How, tyrant! Dor. Tyrant!

[back;

Seb. Traitor! that name thou canst not echo That robe of infamy, that circumcision Ill hid beneath that robe, proclaim thee traitor: And, if a name

More foul than traitor be, 'tis renegade. [tyrant, Dor. If I'm a traitor, think and blush, thou Whose injuries betray'd me into treason, Effac'd my loyalty, unhing'd my faith,

And hurried me from hopes of heaven to hell.
All these, and all my yet unfinish'd crimes,
When I shall rise to plead before the saints,
I charge on thee to make thy damning sure.

Seb. Thy old presumptuous arrogance again, That bred my first dislike, and then iny loathing, Once more be warn'd, and know me for thy king.

Dor. Too well I know thee, but for king no This is not Lisbon, nor the circle this, [more: Where, like a statue, thou hast stood besieg'd By sycophants and fools, the growth of courts; Where thy gull'd eyes in all the gaudy round Met nothing but a lie in every face; And the gross flattery of a gaping crowd, Envious who first should catch and first applaud The stuff of royal nonsense: when I spoke, My honest homely words were carp'd and cenFor want of courtly style: related actions, [sur'd Though modestly reported, pass'd for boasts: Secure of merit, if I ask'd reward, [vaded, Thy hungry minions thought their rights inAnd the bread snatch'd from pimps and paraHenriquez answer'd, with a ready lie, [sites. To save his king's, the boon was begg'd before.

Seb. What say'st thou of Henriquez? Now,

by Heaven,

Thou mov'st me more by barely naming him, Than all thy foul, unmanner'd, scurril taunts. Dor. And therefore 'twas to gall thee that I

nam'd him,

That thing, that nothing but a cringe and smile;
That woman, but more daub'd; or, if a man,
Corrupted to a woman; thy man-mistress.

Seb. All false as hell, or thou.
Dor. Yes; full as false

As that I serv'd thee fifteen hard campaigns,
And pitch'd thy standard in those foreign fields:
By me thy greatness grew, thy years grew with it,
But thy ingratitude outgrew them both. [first,

Seb. I see to what thou tend'st; but tell me
If those great acts were done alone for me;
If love produc'd not some, and pride the rest?
Dor. Why, love does all that's noble here
below..

But all th' advantage of that love was thine:
For, coming fraughted back, in either hand
With palm and olive, victory and peace,
I was indeed prepar'd to ask my own
(For Violante's vows were mine before):
Thy malice had prevention, ere I spoke;
And ask'd me Violante for Henriquez.

Seb. I meant thee a reward of greater worth.
Dor. Where justice wanted, could reward
be hop'd?

Could the robb'd passenger expect a bounty From those rapacious hands who stripp'd him first? [love.

Seb. He had my promise ere I knew thy Dor. My services deserv'd, thou shouldst revoke it.