Ther. Thy knower, Patroclus; Then tell me, Pa

troclus, what art thou?

Patr. Thou mayest tell, that knowest.
Achil. O, tell, tell.

Ther. I'll decline the whole question. Agamem-
non commands Achilles; Achilles is my lord: I am
Patroclus' knower; and Patroclus is a fool.
Patr. You rascal!

Ther. Peace, fool; I have not done.

Achil. He is a privileged man. Proceed, Thersites. Ther. Agamemnon is a fool; Achilles is a fool; Thersites is a fool; and, as aforesaid, Patroclus is a

fool.

and Ajax.

in with me, Thersites.

[Exit.

Achil. Patroclus, I'll speak with nobody;-Come Ther. Here is such patchery, such juggling, 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,

Agam. Where is Achilles?

Patr. Within his tent; but ill-dispos'd, my lord. Agam. Let it be known to him, that we are here.

He shent our messengers; and we lay by
Our appertainments, visiting of him:
Let him be
ting of
he think
We dare not move the question of our place,
Or know not what we are.
Patr.

be told so; lest, perchance,

I shall say so to him. [Exit.

Ulyss. We saw him at the opening of his tent; He is not sick.

Ajax. Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart: you may call it melancholy, if you will favour the man; but, by my head, 'tis pride: But why, why? let him show us a cause. A word, my lord.

[Takes Agamemnon aside.

Nest. What moves Ajax thus to bay at him? Ulyss. Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him. Nest. Who? Thersites?

Ulyss. He.

his argument.

his argument; Achilles.

And underwrite in an observing kind

His humorous predominance; yea, watch
His pettish lunes, his ebbs, his flows, as if
The passage and whole carriage of this action
Rode on his tide. Go, tell him this; and add,
That, if he overhold his price so much,
We'll none of him; but let him, like an engine
Not portable, lie under this report-
Bring action hither, this cannot go to war:
A stirring dwarf we do allowance give
Before a sleeping giant.-Tell him so.

Patr. I shall; and bring his answer presently.

[Exit.

Agam. In second voice we'll not be satisfied, We come to speak with him. Ulysses, enter. [Exit Ulysses.

Ajax. What is he more than another ?

Agam. No more than what he thinks he is.

Ajax. Is he so much? Do you not think, he thinks

himself a better man than I am?

Agam. No question.

Ajax. Will you subscribe his thought, and sayhe is ?

Agam. No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as valiant, as wise, no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether more tractable.

Ajax. Why should a man be proud? How doth

pride grow out know not what pride is.

Agam. Your mind's the 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 itself but in the deed, devours the deed in the praise.

Ajax. I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendering of toads.

Nest. And yet he loves himself: Is it not strange? [Aside.

Cry No recovery.

Agam.

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.

Úlyss. 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 matter 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;

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

Much attribute he hath; and much the reason

Why we ascribe it to him: yet all his virtues,

And say in thunder-Achilles, go

to him.

Not virtuously on his own part beheld,

[Aside.

Do, in our eyes, begin to lose their gloss;

Dio. And how his silence drinks up this applause!

Yea, like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish,

[Aside.

Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell bin,

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

If you do say we think him over-proud,

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

Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on;

Disguise the holy strength of their command,

Ulyss. Not for the worth that hangs upon our

Ajax. A paltry, insolent fellow,- [quarrel.

Nest.

Himself!

Ajax.

Ulyss.

Can he not be sociable ?

Chides blackness.

The raven

I will let his humours blood.

are my titles:-What music is this?

Pan. Know you the musicians!

Serv. Wholly, sir.

[Aside.

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

[Aside.

Ajax.

tient.

Agam. He'll be physician, that should be the pa[Aside.

Wit would be out of fashion.

[Aside.

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 tight,
Let Mars divide eternity in twain,
And give him haif: and, for thy vigour,
Bull-bearing Mile his addition yield

To sinewy Ajax. I'll not praise thy wisdom,
Which, like a bourn, a pale, a shore, contines
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,

Be rui'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 [Exeunt.

deep.

ACT 111.

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?

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. 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.

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. 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 Troilus

Helen. 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 if the king call for him at supper, you will make his ex

darus.

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

Serv. You are in the state of grace. [Music within.

Helen. She shall have it, my lord, if it be not my lord Paris.

Pan. He! no, she'll none of him; they two are twain.

Helen. Falling in, after falling out, may make them three.

Pan. Come, come, I'll hear no more of this; I'll sing you a song now.

Helen. Ay, ay, pr'ythee now. By my troth, sweet lord, thou hast a fine forehead.

this love will undo

Pan. Ay, you may, you may. Helen. Let thy song be love us all. O Cupid, Cupid, Cupid! Pan. Love! ay, ay, that it shall, i'faith. Par. Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but love. Pan. In good troth, it begins so:

Love, love, nothing but love, still more I

For, oh, love's bow
Shoots buck and doe:

The shaft confounds,

Not that it wounds,

But tickles still the sore.

These lovers cry-Oh! oh! they die!
Yet that which seems the wound to kill,
Doth turn oh! oh! to ha! ha! he!

So dying love lives still:
Oh! oh! awhile, but ha! ha ! ha !

Oh! oh! groans out for ha! hal ha!

Hey ho!

Helen. In love, i'faith, to the very tip of the nose. Par. He eats nothing but doves, love; and that breeds hot blood, and hot blood begets hot thoughts, and hot thoughts beget hot deeds, and hot deeds is love.

Pan. Is this the generation of love? hot blood, hot thoughts, and hot deeds!-Why, they are vipers: Is love a generation of vipers? Sweet lord, who's a-field to-day?

Par. Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all I the gallantry of Troy: I would fain have armed to-night, but my Nel would not have it so. How chance my brother Troilus went not?

Helen. He hangs the lip at something;-you know all, lord Pandarus. Pan. Not I, honey-sweet queen.- I long to hear how they sped to-day. You'll remember your brother's excuse.

Par. To a hair.

Pan. Farewell, sweet queen.

Helen. Commend me to your niece.

Pan. I will, sweet queen.

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.

Re-enter Pandarus.

Pan. She's making her ready, she'll come straight: you must be witty now. She does so blush, and fetches her wind so short, as if she were frayed with a sprite: I'll fetch her. It is the prettiest villain :she fetches her breath as short as a new-ta'en spar[Exit.

row.

Tro. Even such a passion doth embrace my bosom: My heart beats thicker than a feverous pulse; And all my powers do their bestowing lose, Like vassalage at unawares encount'ring The eye of majesty.

Enter Pandarus and Cressida.

Pan. Come, come, what need you blush? shame's a baby. Here she is now swear the oaths now to her, that you have sworn to me. What, are you gone again? you must be watched ere you be made tame, must you? Come your ways, come your ways; an you draw backward, we'll put you i'the fills.Why do you not speak to her? Come, draw this curtain, and let's see your picture. Alas the day, how loath you are to offend day-light! an 'twere dark, you'd close sooner. So, so; rub on, and kiss the mistress. How now? a kiss in fee-farm? build there, carpenter; the air is sweet. fight your hearts out, ere I part you. The falcon as the tercel, for all the ducks i'the river: go to, go to.

you shall

Nay, you s

Tro. You have bereft me of all words, lady.
Pan. Words pay no debts, give her deeds: but

she'll bereave you of the deeds too, if she call your
activity in question. What, billing again? Here's
-In witness whereof the parties interchangeably-
Come in, come in; I'll go get a fire.
Cres. Will you walk in, my lord ?

[Exit.

Tro. O Cressida, how often have I wished me thus ? Cres. Wished, my lord? The gods grant!-0,

my lord!

Tro. What should they grant? what makes this pretty abruption? What too curious dreg espies my sweet lady in the fountain of our love?

Cres. More dregs than water, if my fears have eyes. Tro. Fears make devils cherubims; they never see

[Exit. A Retreat sounded. Par. They are come from field: let us to Priam's hall. To greet the warriors. Sweet Helen, I must woo To help unarm our Hector his stubborn buckles, With these your white enchanting fingers touch'd, Shall more obey, than to the edge of steel, Or force of Greekish sinews; you shall do more Than all the island kings, disarm great Hector. Helen. 'Twill make us proud to be his servant, Yea, what he shall receive of us in duty, [Paris: Give us more palm in beauty than we have; Yea, overshines ourself.

Par. Sweet, above thought I love thee. [Exeunt. SCENE II. The same. Pandarus' Orchard.

Enter Pandarus and a Servant, meeting. Pan. How now? where's thy master? at my cousin Cressida's?

Serv. No, sir; he stays for you to conduct him thither. Enter Troilus.

Pan. O, here he comes.-How now, how now? Tro. Sirrah, walk off. [Exit Servant.

Pan. Have you seen my cousin?

Tro. No, Pandarus: I stalk about her door,

strange soul

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 shoulder pluck his painted wings,
And fly with me to Cressid!

Pan. Walk here i'the orchard, I'll bring her straight.

[Exit.

Tro. 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,

Foo subtle-potent, tun'd too sharp in sweetness,

Cres. Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds safer footing than blind reason stumbling without fear: To fear the worst, oft cares the worst.

Tro. O, let my lady apprehend no fear in all Cupid's pageant there is presented no monster. Cres. Nor nothing monstrous neither.

Tro. Nothing, but our undertakings; when we vow to weep seas, live in fire, eat rocks, tame tigers; thinking it harder for our mistress to devise imposition enough, than for us to undergo any difficulty imposed. This is the monstruosity in love, lady, that the will is infinite, and the execution contined; that the desire is boundless, and the act a slave to limit.

Cres. They say, all lovers swear more performance than they are able, and yet reserve an ability that they never perform; vowing more than the perfection of ten, and discharging less than the tenth part of one. They that have the voice of lions, and the act of hares, are they not monsters?

Tro. Are there such? such are not we: Praise us as we are tasted, allow us as we prove; our head shall go bare, till merit crown it: no perfection in reversion shall have a praise in present: we will not name desert, before his birth; and, being born, his addition shall be humble. Few words to fair faith: Troilus shall be such to Cressid, as what envy can say worst, shall be a mock for his truth; and what truth can speak truest, not truer than Troilus. Cres. Will you walk in, my lord ? Re-enter Pandarus.

Pan. What, blushing still? have you not done talking yet?

Cres. Well, uncle, what folly I commit, I dedicate to you.

Pan. I thank you for that; if my lord get a boy of you, you'll give him me: Be true to my lord: if he ilinch, chide me for it.

Tro. You know now your hostages; your uncle's word, and my firm faith.

Pan. Nay, I'll give my word for her too; our kindred, though they be long ere they are wooed, they are constant, being won they are burs, I can tell you: they'll stick where they are thrown.

Cres. Boldness comes to me now, and brings me heart:

Prince Troilus, I have lov'd you night and day,
For many weary months.

Tro. Why was my Cressid then so hard to win?
Cres. Hard to seem won; but I was won, my lord,
With the first glance that ever-Pardon me;-
If I confess much, you will play the tyrant.
I love you now; but not, till now, so much uch
But I might master it; in faith, I lie;
My thoughts were like unbridled children, grown
Too headstrong for their mother: See, we fools!
Why have I blabb'd? who shall be true to us,
When we are so unsecret to ourselves ?

But, though I lov'd you well, I woo'd you not;
And yet, good faith, I wish'd myself a man;
Or that we women had men's p.ivilege

Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue;
For, in this rapture, I shall surely speak

The thing I shall repent. See, see, your silence,
Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws
My very soul of counsel: Stop my mouth.

Tro. And shall, albeit sweet music issues thence.
Pan. Pretty, i'faith.

Cres. My lord, I do beseech you, pardon me;

'Twas not my purpose, thus to beg a kiss: I am asham'd: - heavens! what have I done?For this time will I take my leave, my lord.

Tro. Your leave, sweet Cressid? Pan. Leave! an you take leave till to-morrow morning,

Cres. Pray you, content you.

Tro.

What offends you, lady?

Cres. Sir, mine own company.

Tro.

Yourself.

Cres. Let me go and try:

You cannot shun

I have a kind of self resides with you;
But an unkind self, that itself will leave,
To be another's fool. I would be gone:-

Where is my wit? I know not what I speak.

Tro. Well know they what they speak, that speak so wisely.

[love; Cres. Perchance, my lord, I show more craft than And fell so roundly to a large confession, To angle for your thoughts: But you are wise; Or else you love not; For to be wise, and love,

Exceeds man's might; that dwells with

with gods above.

Tro. O, that I thought it could be in a woman
(As, if it can, 1 will presume in you),
To feed for aye her lamp and flames of love;
To keep her constancy in plight and youth,
Outliving beauty's outward, with a mind
That doth renew swifter than blood decays!
Or, that persuasion could but this convince me,-
That may integrity and truth to you

Might be affronted with the match and weight
Of such a winnow'd purity in love;
How were I then uplifted! but, alas,
I am as true as truth's simplicity,
And simpler than the infancy of truth.

Cres. In that I'll war with you.
Tro.

O virtuous fight,

When right with right wars who shall be most right!
True swains in love shall, in the world to come,
Approve their truths by Troilus: when their rhymes,
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 bel

If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth,

When time is old and hath forgot itself,

When water-drops have worn the stones of 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,

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 stepdame to her son;

Yea, let them say, to stick the heart of falsehood, As false as Cressid.

Pan. Go to, a bargain made seal it, seal it; I'll be the witness.-Here I hold your hand; here, my cousin's. If ever you prove false one to another, since I have taken such pains to bring you together, let all pitiful goers-between be called to the world's end after my name, call them all-Pandars; let all inconstant men be Troiluses, all false women Cressids, and all brokers-between Pandars! say, amen. Tro. Amen.

SCENE III. The Grecian Camp. Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Diomedes, Nestor, Ajax, Menelaus, and Calchas.

Cal. Now, princes, for the service I have done you,
The advantage of the time prompts me aloud
To cail for recompense. Appear it to your mind,
That, through the sight I bear in things, to Jove
I have abandon'd Troy, left my possession,
Incurr'd a traitor's name; expos'd myself,
From certain and possess'd conveniences,
To doubtful fortunes; sequest'ring from me all
That time, acquaintance, custom, and condition,
Made tame and most familiar to my nature;
And here, to do you service, am become

As new into the world, strange, unacquainted:
I do beseech you, as in way of taste,
To give me now a little benefit,
Out of those many register'd in promise,
Which, you say, live to come in my behalf. [mand.
Agam. What wouldst thon of us, Trojan? make de-
Cal. You have a Trojan prisoner, call'd Antenor,
Yesterday took; Troy holds him very dear.
Oft have you (often have you thanks therefore),
Desir'd my Cressid in right great exchange,
Whom Troy hath still denied: But this Antenor,
I know, is such a wrest in their affairs,
That their negotiations all must slack,
Wanting his manage; all
almost
Give us a prince ince of blood, a son of Priam,
In change of him: let him be sent, great princes,
And he shall buy my daughter; and her presence
Shali quite strike off all service I have done,
In most accepted pain.
Agam.

Let Diomedes bear him,
And bring us Cressid hither; Calchas shall have
What he requests of us. Good Diomed,
Furnish you fairly for this interchange:
Withal, bring word-if Hector will to-morrow
Be answer'd in his challenge: Ajax is ready.

Dio. This shall I undertake; and 'tis a burden Which I am proud to bear. [Exeunt Dio, and Cal.

Enter Achilles and Patroclus, before their Tent.
Ulyss. Achilles stands i'the entrance of his tent:--
Please it our general to pass strangely by him,
As if he were forgot; and, princes all,

Lay negligent and loose regard upon him:---
I will come last: "Tis like, he'll question me,
Why such unplausive eyes are bent, why turn'd on him:
If so, I have derision med'cinable,

To use between your strangeness and his pride,
Which his own will shall have desire to drink;
It may do good: pride hath no other glass
To show itself, but pride; for supple knees
Feed arrogance, and are the proud man's fees.
Agam. We'll execute your purpose, and put on

A form of strangeness as we pass along;-
So do each lord; and either greet him not,
Or else disdainfully, which shall shake him more
Than if not look'd on. I will lead the way.

Achil. What, comes the general to speak with me? You know my mind, I'll fight no more 'gainst Troy. Agam.W That says Achilles? would he aught with us? Nest. Would you, my lord, aught with the general? Achil.

No.

Nest. Nothing, my lord.

Agam.

The better.

[Exeunt Agamemnon and Nestor.

Achil.

Men. How do you? how do you? Achila

Good day, good day. [Exit.

Ajax. How now, Patroclus?

What, does the cuckold scorn me?

As done: Perseverance, dear my lord,
Keeps honour bright: To have done, is to hang
Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail
In monumental mockery. Take the instant way;
For honour travels in a strait so narrow,
Where one but goes abreast: keep then the path;
For emulation hath a thousand sons,
That one by one pursue: If you give
Or hedge aside from the direct forthright,
Like to an enter'd tide, they all rush by,
And leave you hindmost;-

way,

Or, like a gallant horse fallen in first rank,

Lie there for pavement to the abject rear, [present, O'errun and trampled on: Then what they do in Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours: For time is like a fashionable host,

That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand; And with his arins out-stretch'd, as he would fly, Grasps-in the comer: Welcome ever smiles,

And farewell goes out sighing. O, let not virtue seek Remuneration for the thing it was;

For beauty, wit,

Which when they fall, as being slippery standers, The love that lean'd on them, as slippery too,

Do one pluck down another, and together

High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, Love, friendship, charity,

Die in the fall. But 'tis not so with me:

To envious and calumniating time.

Fortune and I are friends; I do enjoy

At ample point all that I did possess,

One touch of nature makes the whole world kin,That all, with one consent, praise new-born gawds,

Something not worth in me such rich beholding

As they have often given. Here is Ulysses;

And give to dust, that is a little gilt,

More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.

I'll interrupt his reading.

The present eye praises the present object:

How now, Ulysses?

Then marvel not, thou great and complete man,

Ulyss.

Now, great Thetis' son?

That all the Greeks begin to worship Ajax;

Achil. What are you reading?

Since things in motion sooner catch the eye,

Ulyss.

Writes me, That man-how dearly ever parted,

And still it might; and yet it may again,

How much in having, or without, or in,

If thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive,

Cannot make boast to have that which he hath,

And case thy reputation in thy tent:

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.

The beauty that is borne here in the face,
The bearer knows not, but commends itself

To others' eyes; nor doth the eye itself
(That most pure spirit of sense) behold itself
Not going from itself; but eye to eye oppos'd
Salutes each other with with each other's form.
For speculation turns not to itself,

Till it hath travell'd, and is married there,
Where it may see itself: this is not strange at all.

Ulyss. I do not strain at the position,
It is familiar; but at the author's drift:
Who, in his circumstance, expressly proves-
That no man is the lord of any thing
(Though in and of him there be much consisting),
Till he communicate his parts to others:

Nor doth he of himself know them for aught

Till he behold them form'd in the applause
Where they are extended; which, like an arch, re-

Heavens, what a man is there I a very horse;
That has he knows not what. Nature, what things
Most abject in regard, and dear in use! [there are,
What things again most dear in the esteem,

And poor in worth! Now shall we see to-morrow,
An act that very chance doth throw upon him,
Ajax renown'd. O heavens, what some men do,
While some men leave to do!

How some men creep in skittish fortune's hall,
While other's play the idiot's in her eyes!
How one man eats into another's pride,
While pride is fasting in his wantonness!
To see these Grecian lords!-why, even already
They clap the lubber Ajax on the shoulder;
As if his foot were on brave Hector's breast,
And great Troy shrinking.

Achil. I do believe it: for they pass'd by me,
As misers do by beggars: neither gave to me
ood word nor look: What, are my deeds forgot?
Ulyss. Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back,

Whose glorious deeds, but in these fields of late,

Made emulous missions 'mongst the gods themselves,

And drave great Mars to faction.

Achil.

I have strong reasons. Ulyss.

Of this my privacy

But 'gainst your privacy

The reasons are more potent and heroical: 'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love

With one of Priam's daughters.

Achil.

Ulyss. Is that a wonder?

Ha! known?

The providence that's in a watchful state,
Knows almost every grain of Plutus' gold;
Finds bottom in the uncomprehensive deeps;
Keeps place with thought, and almost, like the gods,
Does thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles.
There is a mystery (with whom relation
Durst never meddle) in the soul of state;
Which hath an operation more divine,
Than breath, or pen, can give expression to:
All the commerce that you have had with Troy,
As perfectly is ours, as yours, my my lord;
And better would it fit Achilles much,

To throw down Hector, than Polyxena:

But it must grieve young Pyrrhus now at home,
When fame shall in our island sound her trump;
And all the Greekish girls shall tripping sing.-
Great Hector's sister did Achilles win;

But our great Ajax bravely beat down him.
Farewell, my lord: I as your lover speak;
The fool slides o'er the ice that you should break.

As fast as they are made, forgot as soon

Achil. Go, call Thersites hither, sweet Patroclus: