Who, in his circumstance,' expressly proves-
That no man is the lord of any thing
(Though in and of him there be much consisting,)
Till he communicate his parts to others:
Nor doth he of himself know them for aught
Till he behold them form'd in the applause

The present eye praises the present object:
Then marvel not, thou great and complete man
That all the Greeks begin to worship Ajax;
Since things in motion sooner catch the eye,
Than what not stirs. The cry went once on thee,
And still it might; and yet it may again,

Where they are extended; which, like an arch, re- If thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive,

verberates

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

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,
And poor in worth! Now shall we see to-morrow,
An act that very chance doth throw upon him,
Ajax renown'd. O heavens, what some men do,
While some men leave to do!

How some men creep in skittish fortune's hall,
While others play the idiots in her eyes!
How one man eats into another's pride,
While pride is fasting 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 shrinking.

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-sized monster of ingratitudes:

And case thy reputation in thy tent;

Whose glorious deeds, but in these fields of late,
Made emulous missions' 'mongst the gods them-
selves,

And drave great Mars to faction.
Achil.

I have strong reasons.
Ulyss.

Of this my privacy

But 'gainst your privacy
The reasons are more potent and heroical:
'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love
With one of Priam's daughters.*

Achil.

Ulyss. Is that a wonder?

Ha! known?

The providence that's in a watchful state,
Knows almost every grain of Plutus' gold;
Finds bottom in the uncomprehensive deeps;
Keeps place with thought, and almost, like the gods,
Does thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles.
There is a mystery (with whom relation
Durst never meddle) in the soul of state;
Which hath an operation more divine,
Than breath, or pen, can give expressure to:
All the commérce 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 Pyrrhus now at home,
When fame shall in our islands sound her trump;
And all the Greekish girls shall tripping sing,-

Those scraps are good deeds past: which are de- Great Hector's sister did Achilles win;

vour'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 trusty 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,
Or hedge aside from the direct forthright,
Like to an enter'd tide, they all rush by,
And leave you hindmost;-

Or, like a gallant horse fallen in first rank,
Lie there for pavement to the abject rear,
O'er-run and trampled on: Then what they do in

present,

Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours:
For time is like a fashionable host,

That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand;
And with his arms out-stretch'd, as he would fly,
Grasps-in the comer: Welcome ever smiles,
And farewell goes out sighing. O, let not virtue
seek

Remuneration for the thing it was;
For beauty, wit,

High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service,
Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all

To envious and calumniating time.

One touch of nature makes the whole world kin,-
That all, with one consent, praise new-born gawds,2
Though they are made and moulded of things past;
And give to dust, that is a little gilt,
More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.

Detail of argument.
New-fashioned toys.

But our great Ajax bravely beat down him.
Farewell, my lord: I as your lover' speak;
The fool slides o'er the ice that you should break.

[Exit.

Patr. To this effect, Achilles, have I mov'd you:
A woman impudent and mannish grown
Is not more loath'd than an effeminate man
In time of action. I stand condemn'd for this;
They think, my little stomach to the war,
And your great love to me, restrains you thus:
Sweet, rouse yourself; and the weak wanton Cupid
Shall from your neck unloose his amorous fold,
And, like a dew-drop from the lion's mane,
Be shook to air.

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 invite the Trojan lords after the combat,
To see us here unarm'd: I have a woman's longing,
An appetite that I am sick withal,
To see great Hector in his weeds of peace;
To talk with him, and to behold his visage,
Even to my full of view. A labour sav'd!

(3) The descent of the deities to combat on ei ther side.

Enter Thersites.

Ther. A wonder!
Achil. What?

And I myself see not the bottom of it.
[Exeunt Achilles and Patroclus.
Ther. 'Would the fountain of your mind were

Ther. Ajax goes up and down the field, asking clear again, that I might water an ass at it! I had for himself. rather be a tick in a sheep, than such a valiant ignorance. [Exit.

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 a hostess, that hath no arithmetic but her brain to set down her reckoning: bites his lip with a politic 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, Ajax; 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 ambassador 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. will put on his presence; let Patroclus make demands to me, you shall see the pageant of Ajax.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.-Troy. A street. Enter, at one side,
Eneas and Servant, with a torch; at the other,
Paris, Deiphobus, Antenor, Diomedes, and oth-
ers, with torches.

Par. See, ho! who's that there?
Dei.
'Tis the lord Æneas.
Ene. Is the prince there in person?-
Had I so go good occasion to lie long,
As you, prince Paris, nothing but heavenly business
Should rob my bed-mate of my company.
Dio. That's my mind too.-Good morrow, lord
Eneas.

Par. A valiant Greek, Æneas; take his hand :
Witness the process of your speech, wherein
You told-how Diomed, a whole week by days,
Did haunt you in the field.

Æne.

Health to you, valiant sir,
During all question' of the gentle truce:
But when I meet you arm'd, as black defiance,
As heart can think, or courage execute.

Dio. The one and other Diomed embraces. Our bloods are now in calm; and, so long, health: Achil. To him, Patroclus: Tell him,-I humbly But when contention and occasion meet, desire the valiant Ajax, to invite the most valorous By Jove, I'll play the hunter for thy life, Hector to come unarmed to my tent; and to pro- With all my force, pursuit, and policy." cure safe conduct for his person, of the magnani- Ene. And thou shalt hunt a lion, that will fly mous, and most illustrious, six-or-seven-times-hon-With his face backward. In humane gentleness, oured captain-general of the Grecian army, Aga- Welcome to Troy! now, by Anchises' life, memnon. Do this.

Patr. Jove bless great Ajax.

Ther. Humph!

Patr. come from the worthy Achilles,-
Ther. Ha!

Patr. Who most humbly desires you, to

Hector to his tent!

Ther. Humph!

invite

Patr. And to procure safe conduct from Aga

Patr. Your answer, sir.

Ther. Fare you well, with all my heart. Achil. Why, but he is not in his tune, is he? Ther. No, but he's out o'tune thus. What music 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 capable2 creature.

Achil. My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirr'd;

(1) Lute-strings made of catgut. (2) Intelligent.

Welcome, indeed! By Venus' hand I swear,
No man alive can love, in such a sort,
The thing he means to kill, more excellently.
Dio. We sympathize:-Jove, let Æneas live,
If to my sword his fate be not the glory,
A thousand cómplete courses of the sun!
But, in mine emulous honour, let him die,
With every joint a wound; and that to-morrow!
JEne. We know each other well.

Dio. We do; and long to know each other

To Calchas' house; and there to render him,
For the enfreed Antenor, the fair Cressid:
Let's have your company; or, if you please,
Haste there before us: I constantly do think
(Or, rather, call my thought a certain knowledge,)
My brother Troilus lodges there to-night,
Rouse him, and give him note of our approach,
With the whole quality wherefore: I fear,
We shall be much unwelcome.

Ene.
That I assure you;
Troilus had rather Troy were borne to Greece,
Than Cressid borne from Troy.
Par.
There is no help;
The bitter disposition of the time
Will have it so. On, lord; we'll follow you.
(3) Conversation.

[Exit. -Here, you maid! where's my cousin Cressid? Cres. Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking

Have not more gift in taciturnity.

[Exeunt Troilus and Æneas. Pan. Is't possible? no sooner got, but lost? The devil take Antenor! the young prince will go mad.

Pan. How now, how now? how go maiden- A plague upon Antenor: I would, they had broke's