Ther. Here is fuch patchery, fuch jugling, and fuch 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 fubject, and war and lechery confound all! [Exit. Aga. Where is Achilles? Pat. Within his tent, but ill-difpos'd, my lord. Let him be told fo, left, perchance, he think Pat. I fhall fo fay to him. [Exit. Uly. We faw him at the opening of his tent, He is not fick. Ajax. Yes, lion-fick, fick of a proud heart: you may call it melancholy, if you will favour the man; but, by my head, 'tis pride; but why, why?let him fhew us the cause. A word, my lord. [To Agamemnon. Neft. What moves Ajax thus to bay at him? Ulyff. Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him. Neft. Who, Therfites? Ulyff. He. Neft. Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have loft his argument. Uly. No, you fee, he is his argument, that has his argument, Achilles. Neft. All the better; their fraction is more our wifh than their faction; but it was a ftrong counsel, that a fool could difunite. Uly. The amity, that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie. *He Sent our messengers. -] This Nonfenfe fhould be read, He Shent our Meffengers,- -i. e. rebuked, rated. Warb. SCENE Here comes Patroclus. Neft. No Achilles with him? [tefy; Uly. The elephant hath joints, but none for courHis legs are for neceffity, not flexure. Pat. Achilles bids me say, he is much forry, If any thing more than your sport and pleasure Aga. Here you, Patroclus; We are too well acquainted with these answers : Much attribute he hath, and much the reason Of judgment: fay, men worthier than himself Not Not portable, lie under this report, Pat. I fhall, and bring his anfwer prefently. [Exit. We come to speak with him. Ulyffes, enter. Exit Ulyffes. Ajax. What is he more than another? Aga. No more than what he thinks he is. Ajax. Is he fo much? do you not think, he thinks himself a better man than I am? Aga. No queftion. Ajax. Will you subscribe his thought, and say, he is? Aga. No, noble Ajax, you are as ftrong, as valiant, as wife, no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether more tractable. Ajax. Why fhould a man be proud? how doth pride grow? I know not what it is. Aga. Your mind is clearer, Ajax, and your virtues the fairer; he, that is proud, eats up himself. Pride is his own glafs, his own trumpet, his own chronicle; and whatever praises itself but in the deed, devours the deed in the praife. Ajax. I SCENE VIII. Re-enter Ulyffes. Do hate a proud man, as I hate the engend- Neft. Yet he loves himfelf: is't not ftrange? Ulyff. He doth rely on none; But carries on the ftream of his dispose, In will-peculiar, and in felf-admiffion. Aga. Why will be not, upon our fair request, Un-tent his perfon, and fhare the air with us? Uly. Things fmall as nothing, for requeft's fake He makes important: he's poffeft with greatness, And batters down himself; what should I say? Aga. Let Ajax go to him. Dear lord, go you and greet him in his tent; 'Tis faid, he holds you well, and will be led At your requeft a little from himself. · Ulyff. O, Agamemnon, let it not be fo. When they go from Achilles. Shall the proud lord, (As amply titled, as Achilles is,) by going to Achilles: And add more coals to Cancer, when he burns This lord go to him? Jupiter forbid, And day in thunder, Achilles go to him! Neft. O, this is well, he rubs the vein of him. Aga. Aga. O no, you fhall not go. Ajax. An he be proud with me, I'll pheefe his pride: let me go to him. Ulyff. Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel. Neft. How he defcribes himself! [tient. Aga. He'll be the physician, that should be the paAjax. And all men were o' my mind Ulyff. Wit would be out of fashion. Ajax. He fhould not bear it fo, he should eat fwords firft: fhall pride carry it? Neft. An 'twould, you'd carry half. Ulyff. He would have ten shares. * Ajax. I will knead him, I'll make him fuppleNeft. He is not yet through warm: force him with praifes; pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry. Ulyff. My lord, you feed too much on this dislike. Neft. Our noble General, do not do fo. Dio. You must prepare to fight without Achilles. Uly.Why, 'tis this naming of him doth him harm. Here is a man- -but 'tis before his face I will be filent. Neft. Wherefore fhould you fo? He is not emulous, as Achilles is. Uly. Know the whole world, he is as valiant. Ajax. A whorefon dog! that palters thus with usWould he were a Trojan! Neft. What a vice were it in Ajax now Ulyff. If he were proud. Dio. Or covetous of praise. Ulyff. Ay, or furly borne. Dio. Or ftrange, or felf-affected. [pofure; Uly. Thank the heav'ns, lord, thou art of fweet com Ajax. I will knead him, I'll make him fupple, he's not yet through warm.] The latter Part of this Speech should be given to Neftor. Praise |