That were to enlard his fat-already pride; And add more coals to Cancer, when he burns This lord go to him! Jupiter forbid ; And say in thunder-Achilles, go to him' Nef. O, this is well; he rubs the vein of him. I'll pafh him o'er the face. Aga. O, no, you shall not go. Aja. An he be proud with me, I'll pheeze his pride:Let me go to him. 66 Uly. Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.. "Aja. A paltry infolent fellow, 66 Nef. How he describes himself ! "Aja. I'll let his humours blood. "Aga. He will be the physician, that fhould be the "patient. "Aja. An all men were o'my mind, 66 Ūlyf. Wit would be out of fashion. "Aja. He fhould not bear it fo, "He fhould eat fwords firft: Shall pride carry it "Nef. An 'twould, you'd carry half. "Uly. He would have ten shares. "Aja. I'll knead him, I will make him fupple: "Nef. He's not yet thorough warm: force him with. "praises; "Pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry. 66 Uly. My lord, you feed too much on this dislike. Nef. Our noble general, do not do fo. Dio. You must prepare to fight without Achilles. Uly. Why, 'tis this naming of him does him harm. Here is a man-but 'tis before his face; I will be filent. Ajax, like moft other proud men, declares he knows not what pride is. Ulyffes here, according to the character of his policy, and knowledge of men, fmooths over the mafter of the feven-fold-fhields very shrewdly. Nef. Wherefore should you fo? He is not emulous, as Achilles is. Uly. Know the whole world, he is as valiant. Aja. A whorfon dog, that shall palter thus with us! 'Would, he were a Trojan! Nef. What a vice were it in our Ajax now— Uly. If he were proud? Dio. Or covetous of praise ? Uly. Ay, or furly borne? Dio. Or ftrange, or self-affected? Uly. Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet compofure; Praise him that got thee, fhe that gave thee suck : And give him half: and for thy vigour, lord, To finewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom, He muft, he is, he cannot but be wise ;— Aja. Shall I call you, father? Úly. Ay, my good fon. Dio. Be rul'd by him, lord Ajax. Uly. 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, firs, The principle of flattery is well maintained through this fcene; and the act in general has much more meris and importance than the former. Aga. Go we to counfel. Let Achilles fleep: Light boats fail swift, though greater hulks draw deep. [Exeunt. ACT III. SCENE I. Troy. A Room in Priam's Palace. "F Enter a Servant and Pandarus. "PANDAR US. RIEND, you! pray you, a word: Do not you follow the young lord Paris? "Ser. Ay, fir, when he goes before me. "Pan. You depend upon him, I mean? "Ser. Sir, I do depend upon the lord. "Pan. You depend upon a noble gentleman; I must "needs praife him. "Ser. The lord be praised! "Pan. You know me, do you not ? "Ser. 'Faith, fir, fuperficially. Pan. Friend, know me better: I am the lord Pan"darus. "Ser. I hope, I fhall know your honour better. "Pan. I do defire it. "Ser. You are in the state of grace ? "Pan. Grace! not fo, friend; honour and lordship 66. are my titles: : [Mufic within.] What mufic is this? 14 "Ser. I do but partly know, fir; it is mufic in parts. "Pan. Know you the musicians ? "Ser. Wholly, fir. "Pan. Who play they to? "Ser. To the hearers, fir. "Pan. At whofe pleasure, friend? "Ser. At mine, fir, and theirs that love mufic. "Pan. Command, I mean, friend? "Ser. Who fhall I command, fir? “ Pan. Friend, we understand not one another; I "am too courtly, and thou art too cunning: At whose "request do these men play? "Ser. That's to't indeed, fir: Marry, fir, at the "request of Paris, my lord, who's there in person ; "with him, the mortal Venus, the heart-blood of beauty, "love's visible soul, "Pan. Who, my coufin Creffida? "Ser. No, fir, Helen; could you not find out that "by her attributes? Pan. It should feem, fellow, that thou haft not "feen the lady Creffida. I come to speak with Paris "from the prince Troilus: I will make a complimental "affault upon him, for my business feeths. "Ser. Sodden business! there's a stew'd phrafe, in❝ deed! Enter Paris and Helen, attended Pan. Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair company; fair defires, in all fair measure, fairly guide them!-efpecially to you, fair queen! fair thoughts be your fair pillow! Hel. Dear lord, you are full of fair words. Pan. You speak your fair pleasure, fweet queen.Fair prince, here is good broken music. Par. You have broke it, coufin: and, by my life, you shall make it whole again; you fhall piece it out with a piece of your performance :-Nell, he is full of harmony. Pan. Truly, lady, no. Hel. O, fir, Pan. Rude, in footh; in good footh, very rude. Par. Well faid, my lord! well you fay fo in fits. Pan. I have bufinefs to my lord, dear queen :-My lord, will you vouchsafe me a word ? Hel. Nay, this fhall not hedge us out; we'll hear you fing, certainly. The act would certainly begin better here, than with the prê ceding buffoonery. Pax. Well, fweet queen, you are pleasant with me. -But (marry) thus, my lord.-My dear lord, and most efteemed friend, your brother Troilus Hel. My lord Pandarus; honey-fweet lord, Pan. Go to, fweet queen, go to:-commends him felf most affectionately to you ;— "Hel. You fhall not bob us out of our melody; if 66 you do, our melancholy upen your head! "Pan. Sweet queen, fweet queen; that's a sweet 66 queen, i'faith. "Par. And to make a fweet lady fad, is a four offence. "Hel. Nay, that shall not ferve your turn; that shall "it not, in truth, la. Nay, I care not for fuch words; no, no. "Pan. And, my lord, he defires you, that, if the "king call for him at fupper, you will make his excuse. "Hel. My lord Pandarus, "Pan. What fays my sweet queen; my very very "sweet queen? Par. What exploit's in hand? where fups he to-night? Hel. Nay, but my lord, Pan. What fays my fweet queen ?-You must not know where he fups.. Par. I'll lay my life, with my difpofer, Creffida. Pan. No, no, no fuch matter, you are wide; come, your difpofer is fick. Par. Well, I'll make excufe.. Pan. Ay, good my lord. Why fhould you fay Greffida? no, your poor difpofer's fick. Par. I fpy Pan. You fpy! what do you fpy?-Come, give me an inftrument now, fweet queen. Hel. Why, this is kindly done. Pan. My niece is horribly in love with a thing you have, fweet queen. Hel. She fhall have it, my lord, if it be not my w.lord Paris. Pan. He! no, fhe'll none of him; they two are twain. My cousin will fall out with you.. Hel. Falling in, after falling out, may make them three. |