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'I know, is fuch a reft in their affairs,
That their negotiations all muft flack,
Wanting his manage; and they will almost
Give us a Prince o' th' blood, a fon of Priam,
In change of him. Let him be fent, great Princes,
And he shall buy my daughter and her presence
Shall quite ftrike off all service I have done,
In most accepted pay.

Aga. Let Diomede bear him.

:

And bring us Creffid hither: Calchas fhall have
What he requests of us. Good Diomede,
Furnish you fairly for this enterchange;
Withal, bring word if Hector will to-morrow
Be answer'd in his challenge. Ajax is ready.
Dio. This fhall I undertake, and 'tis a burden
Which I am proud to bear.

SCENE

VII.

[Exit.
Achilles and Patroclus appear before their Tent.
Ulf. Achilles ftands i' th' entrance of his tent;
Please it our General to pass ftrangely by him,
As if he were forgot; and Princes all,
Lay negligent and loofe regard upon him:
I will come laft, 'tis like he'll question me,
Why fuch unplaufive eyes are bent on him.
If fo, I have decifion medicinable

To ufe between your ftrangeness and his pride,
Which his own will fhall have defire to drink.
It may do good: Pride hath no other glass
To fhew itself, but pride; for fupple knees
Feed arrogance, and are the proud man's fees.
Aga. We'll execute your purpose, and put on
A form of ftrangenefs as we pass along;
So do each Lord, and either greet him not,
Or elfe difdainfully, which fall fhake 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? Aga. What fays Achilles? would he ought with us? Neft, Would you, my Lord, ought with the General? Achil. No.

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Men. How do you? how do you?

Achil. What, does the cuckold fcorn me?

Ajax. How now, Patroclus?

Achil. Good morrow, Ajax.

Ajax, Ha?

Achil. Good morrow.

Ajax. Ay, and good next day too.

[Exeunt.

Acbil. What mean these fellows? know they not Achilles?

Pat. They pass by ftrangely: they were us'd to bend, To fend their fmiles 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 fall'n out with fortune
Muft fall out with men too: what the declin'd is
He fhall as foon read in the eyes of others,

As feel in his own fall: for men, like butter-flies,
Shew not their mealy wings but to the fummer;
And not a man, for being fimply man,
Hath honour, but is honour'd by thofe honours
That are without him; as place, riches, favour,
Prizes of accident as oft as merit :

Which when they fall, as being flipp'ry ftanders,
(The love that lean'd on them, as flipp'ry too,)
Do one pluck down another, and together
Die in the fall. But 'tis not fo with me:
Fortune and I are friends, I do enjoy

At ample point all that I did poffefs,

Save these mens looks, who do methinks find out
Something in me not worth that rich beholding
As they have often giv'n. Here is Ulyffes.

I'll interrupt his reading. Now, Ulyffes!

Ulyf. Now, Thetis' fon!

Achil. What are you reading?

Ulyf. A ftrange fellow here

Writes me, that Man, how dearly ever parted, *

That is, how valuable foever his parts are.

R 2

How

How much in Having, or without, or in,
Cannot make boaft to have that which he hath,
Nor feels not what he owes, but by reflection;
As when his virtues fhining upon others
Heat them, and they retort that heat again
To the firft giver.

Acbil. This is not ftrange, Ulyffes.

The beauty that is born here in the face
The bearer knows not, but it commends it felf
To others eyes nor doth the eye it self
(That moft pure spirit of fenfe) behold it felf
Not going from it felf, but eyes oppos'd
Salute each other with each others form.
For fpeculation turns not to it self,
'Till it hath travell'd, and is marry'd there
Where it may fee it felf; this is not ftrange.
Ulyf. I do not ftrain at the pofition,
It is familiar; but the author's drift;
Who in his circumftance exprefly proves
That no man is the lord of any thing,
(Tho' in and of him there is much confifting)
'Till he communicate his parts to others:
Nor doth he of himself know them for ought,
'Till he behold them formed in th' applause

Where they're extended; which like an arch reverb'rates
The voice again, or like a gate of steel

Fronting the fun, receives and renders back
His figure and his heat. I was much rapt
In this I read, and apprehended here
Immediately the unknown Ajax : heavens!
What a man's there? a very horse, that has
He knows not what: in nature what things there are
Moft abject in regard, and dear in ufe!

What things again most dear in the esteem,
And poor in worth! now fhall we fee to-morrow,
An act that very chance doth throw upon him,
Ajax renown'd! O heav'ns, what fome men do,
While fome men leave to do!

How fome men fleep in fkittish fortune's hall,
While others play the idiots in her eyes:

How

How one man eats into another's pride,
While pride is feafting in his wantonnefs!
To fee thefe Grecian Lords, why, ev❜n already
They clap the lubber Ajax on the shoulder,
As if his foot were on brave Hector's breaft,
And great Troy shrinking.

Acbil. This I do believe:

They pass'd by me, as mifers do by beggars,
Neither gave to me good word, nor good look :
What, are my deeds forgot?

Ulyf. Time hath, my Lord, a wallet at his back;
Wherein he puts alms for oblivion,

A great-fiz'd monfter of ingratitude.

Those scraps are good deeds paft, which are devour'd
As faft as they are made, forgot as foon

As done perfeverance keeps honour bright:
To have done, is to hang quite out of fashion,
Like rufty Mail in monumental mockery.
For honour travails in a ftrait so narrow
Where one but goes abreaft; keep then the path:
For Emulation hath a thousand fons,
That one by one purfue; if you give way
Or turn afide from the direct forth-right,
Like to an entred tide they all rufh by,
And leave you hindermoft; and there you Iye,
Like to a gallant horse fall'n in first rank,
For pavement to the abject rear, o'er-run
And trampled on: Then what they do in present,
Tho' lefs than yours in paft, muft o'er-top yours.
For time is like a fashionable hoft,

That flightly shakes his parting guest by th' hand;
But with his arms out-ftretch'd, as he would fly,
Grafps the in-comer; Welcome ever smiles,
And Farewel goes out fighing. Let not virtue
Seek remuneration for the thing it was.
For beauty, wit, high birth, defert in service,
Love, friendship, charity, are fubjects all
To envious and calumniating time.

One touch of nature makes the whole world kin;
That all with one confent praise new born gaudes,

R 3

The

Tho' they are made and moulded of things paft;
And give to duft that is a little gilt

More laud than they will give to gold o'er-dufted.
The prefent eye praises the prefent object.
Then marvel not, thou great and compleat man,
That all the Greeks begin to worship Ajax;
Since things in motion fooner catch the eye,
Than what not ftirs. The cry went once for thee,
And ftill it might, and yet it may again,
If thou would'ft not entomb thy felf alive,'
And cafe thy reputation in thy tent:

Whofe lorious deeds but in these fields of late
Made emulous miffions 'mongst the Gods themselves,
And drave great Mars to faction.

Achil. Of my privacy

I have ftrong reasons.

Ulyf. 'Gainft your privacy

The reafons are more potent and heroical. 'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love With one of Priam's daughters.

Acbil. Ha! fay you known!

Ulyf. Is that a wonder?

The providence that's in a watchful state,
Knows almost ev'ry grain of Pluto's gold;
Finds bottom in th' uncomprehenfive deep;
Keeps pace with thought; and almoft like the Gods
Does ev'n our thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles.
There is a mystery (with which relation
Durft never meddle) in the foul of state;
Which hath an operation more divine,
Than breath or pen can give expreffure to.
All the commerce that you have had with Troy
As perfectly is ours, as yours, my Lord.
And better would it fit Achilles much,
To throw down Hector, than Polyxena.
But it must grieve young Pyrrbus now at home,
When fame fhall in his ifland found her trump,
And all the Greekish girls fhall tripping fing,
Great Hector's fifter did Achilles win,
But our great Ajax bravely beat down Hector.

Farewel,

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