It is familiar; but at the author's drift: (Though in and of him there be much consisting,) The voice again; or like a gate of steel, His figure and his heat. I was much rapt in this; The unknown Ajax. Heavens, what a man is there! a very horse; That has he knows not what. Nature, what things there are, Most abject in regard, and dear in use! What things again most dear in the esteem, How some men creep in skittish fortune's hall, Achil. I do believe it: for they pass'd by me, As misers do by beggars; neither gave to me Good word, nor look: What, are my deeds forgot! Ulyss. Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-siz'd monster of ingratitudes : Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon 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 way, i Or hedge aside from the direct forthright, Or, like a gallant horse fallen in first rank, O'er-run and trampled on: Then what they do in present, Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours: That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand: For beauty, wit, High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, One touch of nature makes the whole world kin,- More laud than gilt o'er-dusted. The present eye praises the present object: Than what not stirs. The cry went once on thee, Whose glorious deeds, but in these fields of late, Achil. I have strong reasons. Of this my privacy Ulyss. Achil. Ulyss. Is that a wonder? Ha! known? The providence, that's in a watchful state, There is a mystery (with whom relation Than breath, or pen, can give expressure to : To throw down Hector, than Polyxena: But it must grieve young Pyrrhus now at home, [Exit. Patr. To this effect, Achilles, have I mov'd you: A woman impudent and mannish grown Shall from your neck unloose his amorous fold, Achil. Shall Ajax fight with Hector? Patr. Ay; and, perhaps, receive much honour by him. Achil. I see, my reputation is at stake; My fame is shrewdly gor'd. Patr. O, then beware; Those wounds heal ill, that men do give themselves : Omission to do what is necessary Seals a commission to a blank of danger; And danger, like an ague, subtly taints Even then when we sit idly in the sun. Achil. Go call Thersites hither, sweet Patroclus: I'll send the fool to Ajax, and desire him To see great Hector in his weeds of peace; Enter THERSITES. Ther. A wonder! Ackil. What? Ther. Ajax goes up and down the field, asking for himself. Achil. How so? Ther. He must fight singly to-morrow with Hector; and is so prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling, that he raves in saying nothing. Achil. How can that be? Ther. Why, he stalks up and down like a peacock, a stride, and a stand: ruminates, like an hostess, that hath no arithmetick but her brain to set down her reckoning: bites his lip with a politick regard, as who should say-there were wit in this head, an 'twould out; and so there is; but it lies as coldly in him as fire in a flint, which will not show without knocking. The man's undone for ever; for if Hector break not his neck i'the combat, he'll break it himself in vain-glory. He knows not me I said, Good-morrow, Ajua; and he replies, Thanks, Agamemnon. What think you of this man, that takes me for the general? He is grown a very land-fish, languageless, a monster. A plague of opinion a man may wear it on both sides, like a leather jerkin. Achil. Thou must be my embassador to him, Thersites. Ther. Who, I! why, he'll answer nobody; he professes not answering: speaking is for beggars; he wears his tongue in his arms. I will put on his presence; let Patroclus make demands to me, you shall see the pageant of Ajax. Achil. To him, Patroclus: Tell him,-I humbly desire the valiant Ajax, to invite the most valorous Hector to come unarmed to my tent; and to procure safe conduct for his person, of the magnanimous, and most illustrious, six-or seven-times-honour'd captain-general of the Grecian army, Agamemnon. Do this. Patr. Jove bless great Ajax. Ther. Humph! Patr. I come from the worthy Achilles, Ther. Ha! Patr. Who most humbly desires you, to invite Hector to his tent; Ther. Humph! Patr. And to procure safe conduct from Agr memnon. Ther. Agamemnon? Patr. Ay, my lord. Ther. Ha! Patr. What say you to't? Ther. God be wi' you, with all my heart. Ther. If to-morrow be a fair day, by eleven o'clock it will go one way or other; howsoever, he shall pay for me ere he has me. Patr. Your answer, sir. Ther. Fare you well, with all my heart. Achil. Why, but he is not in this tune, is he? Ther. No, but he's out o'tune thus. What musick will be in him when Hector has knocked out his brains, I know not: But, I am sure, none, unless the fiddler Apollo get his sinews to make catlings on. Achil. Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight. Ther. Let me bear another to his horse; for that's the more capable creature. Achil. My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirr'd; And I myself see not the bottom of it. [Exeunt Achilles and Patroclus. Ther. 'Would the fountain of your mind were clear again, that I might water an ass at it! I had rather be a tick in a sheep, than such a valiant ig norance. ACT IV. SCENE I. [Exit. Troy. A street. Enter, at one side, ENEAS, and Servant, with a torch; at the other, PARIS, DEIPHOBUS, ANTENOR, DIOMEDES, and Others, with torches. Par. See, ho! who's that there? Dei. 'Tis the lord Æneas. Ene. Is the prince there in person!--Had I so good occasion to lie long, As you, prince Paris, nothing but heavenly busi ness Should rob my bed-mate of my company. |