Enter Agamemnon, Ulyffes, Diomedes, Neftor, Menelaus and Calchas.
Cal. Now, Princes, for the Service I have done you,
Th' advantage of the time prompts me aloud,
To call for recompence: Appear it to your Mind,
That through the fight I bear in things to come,
I have abandon'd Troy, left my Poffeffion,
Incurr'd a Traitor's Name, expos'd my self,
From certain and poffeft Conveniencies,
To doubtful Fortunes, fequeftring from me all
That Time, Acquaintance, Custom, and Condition,
Made tame, and moft familiar to my Nature:
And here to do you Service am become
As new into the World, ftrange, unacquainted.
I do befeech you, as in way of taste,
To give me now a little benefit,
Out of thofe many Regiftred in Promife,
Which you fay live to come in my behalf.
Aga. What wouldft thou of us, Trojan ? Make demand.
Cal. You have a Trojan Prisoner, call'd Anthenor,
Yesterday tock: Troy holds him very dear.
Oft have you (often have you, Thanks therefore)
Defir'd my Crefid in right great Exchange,
Whom Troy hath ftill deny'd: But this Anthenor,
I know, is such a wreft in their Affairs,
That their Negotiations all must flack,
Wanting this Manage; and they will almoft
Give us a Prince o'th' Blood, a Son of Priam,
In change of him. Let him be fent, great Princes,
And he hall buy my Daughter: And her prefence
Shall quite ftrike off all Service I have done,
In most accepted pain.
Aga. Let Diomedes bear him,
And bring us Creffid hither: Calchas shall have
What he requests of us: Good Diomede,
Furnish you fairly for this enterchange;
With all, bring Word, if Hector will to Morrow
Be anfwer'd in his Challenge. Ajax is ready.
Dio. This fhall I undertake, and 'tis a burthen
Which I am proud to bear.
Enter Achilles and Patroclus, in their Tent.
Vlyf. Achilles ftands i'th' entrance of his Tent;
Pleate 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? why turn'd on him?
If fo, I have Decifion medicinable,
To ufe between our Strangeness and his Pride,
Which his own Will fhall have defire to drink ;
It may do good: Pride hath no other Glass
To fhew it felf, 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 Strangenefs as we pafs along,
So do each Lord, and either greet him not,
Or elfe difdainfully, which fhall 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 'gainft Troj. Aga. What fays Achilles, would he ought with us? Neft. Would you, my Lord, ought with the General? Achil. No.
Neft. Nothing, my Lord.
Aga. The better.
Achil. Good Day, good Day.
Men. How do you? How do you?
Achil. What, does the Cuckold fcorn me?
Aja. How now, Patroclus?
Achil. Good Morrow, Ajax.
Aja. Ay, and good next Day too.
Achil. What mean thefe Fellows? Know they not Achilles?
Patr. They pals ftrangely: They were us'd to bend,
To fend their Smiles 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, Greatnefs once fall'n out with Fortune,
Muft fall out with Men too: What the declin❜d is,
He shall as foon read in the Eyes of others,
As feel in his own Fall For Men, like Butter-Aies,
Shew not their mealy Wings, but to the Summer;
And not a Man, for being fimple Man,
Hath any Honour, but 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 flippery ftanders)
The Love that lean'd on them as flippery too,
Doth one pluck down another, and together
Dye in the Fall: But 'tis not fo with me,
Fortune and I are Friends, I do enjoy
At ample point all that I did poffels,
Save these Mens Looks, who do methinks find out
Something in me not worth that rich Beholding,
As they have often given. Here is Vlyffes,
I'll interrupt his Reading.How now Vlyes?
Vlyf. Now, great Thetis Son!
Achil. What are you reading?
Vlyf. A range Fellow here
Writes me, that Man, how dearly ever parted,
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 first Giver.
Achil. This is not strange, Vlyffes,
The Beauty that is born here in the Face,
The Bearer knows not, but commends it felf,
Not going from it felf, but Eye to Eye oppos'd,
Salute each other, with each others Form.
For Speculation turns not to it felf,
'Till it hath travell'd, and is marry'd there
Where it may fee it felf; this is not ftrange at all.
Vlyf. I do not ftrain at the Position,
It is familiar; but at 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 Sun, receives and renders back
His Figure, and his Heat. I was much rapt in this,
And apprehended here immediately
Heav'ns! What a Man is there? A very Horse,
That as he knows not Nature, what things 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,
And 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 creep in skittish Fortune's Hall,
Whiles others play the Idiots in her Eyes:
How one Man eats into another's Pride,
While Pride is feafting 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 fhrinking.
For they paft by me, as Mifers do by Beggars,
Neither gave to me good word, nor good look:
What, are my Deeds forgot?
Vlyf. Time hath, my Lord, a Wallet at his Back,
Wherein he puts Alms for Oblivion:
A great-fiz'd Monster of Ingratitudes:
Thofe fcraps are good Deeds paft,
Which are devour'd as faft as they are made,
Forgot as foon as done: Perfeverance, dear my Lord,
Keeps Honour bright: To have done, is to hang
Quite out of fashion, like a rusty Male
In monumental Mock'ry: Take the inftant way,
For Honour travels in a Streight fo narrow,
Where one but goes abreaft, keep then the Path,
For Emulation hath a thousand Sons,
That one by one purfue; if you give Way
Or hedge afide from the direct forth-right,
Like to an entred Tide, they all rush by,
And leave you hindmoft;
Or like a gallant Horfe fall'n in first Rank,
Lye there for pavement to the abject, near
O'er-run and trampl'd 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,
And with Arms out-ftretch'd, as he would fly,
Crafps in the Comer; the Welcome ever smiles,
And Farewel goes out fighing: O let not Virtue feek
Remuneration for the thing it was; for Beauty, Wit,
High Birth, Vigour of Bone, Defert in Service,
Love, Friendship, Charity, are Subje&s all
To envious and calumniating Time:
One touch of Nature makes the whole World Kin;
That all with one confent praife new-born Gauds,
Tho' they are made and moulded of things paft,
And go to Duft, that is, a little Gilt;
More Laud in Gilt 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 'gin to catch the Eye,
Than what not ftirs; the Cry went out on thee,
And ftill it might, and yet it may again,
If thou would't not entomb thy felf alive,
And cafe thy Reputation in thy Tent;
Whofe glorions Deeds, but in thefe Fields of late,
Made emulous miffions 'mongst the Gods themselves,
And drave great Mars to Faction.
Achil. Of this my Privacy,
I have ftrong Reafons.
Vlyf. But 'gainst your Privacy,
The Reafons are more potent and heroical: 'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in Love With one of Priam's Daughters.
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