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Aga. O, no, you shall not go.

Ajax. An he be proud with me, I'll " pheeze his pride:Let me go to him.

Ulyf. Not for the ° worth that hangs upon our quarrel.
Ajax. A paltry insolent fellow,-
Neft. How he describes himself !

[Afide. Ajax, Can he not be sociable? Ulys. The raven chides blackness.

[Aside. Ajax. I'll let his humours blood. Aga. He will be the physician, that should be the patient.

[Aside. Ajax. An all men were o' my mind, Ulyl. Wit would be out of fashion.

[Aside, Ajax. He should not bear it so, He should eat swords first : Shall pride carry it? Neft. An 'twould, you'd carry half,

[Afide. Ulyl. He would have ten shares,

[ Aside. Ajax. I will knead him, I'll make him supple:Neft. He's not yet thorough warm : P force him with praises :

[Afide. Pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry. Ulyf. My lord, you feed too much on this dislike.

[To Agamemnon. Neft. Our noble general, do not do so. Dio. You must prepare to fight without Achilles.

Ulys. Why, 'tis this naming of him does him harm. Here is a man-But 'tis before his face; I will be filent. Neft. Wherefore should


so? He is not 'emulous, as Achilles is. * poeeze)-curry, chastise; humble, lower.

TAMING OF THE SHREW, Vol. II. Induétion, Sly. otbe worth thar bangs upón our quarrel.)-the value of the prize we fight for.

P force him]-farce bim-stuff, cram him. naming]-noticing,

emulous, ]-factious, feditious.


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Ulyl. Know the whole world, he is as valiant.

Ajax. A whoreson dog, that shall Spalter thus with us! 'Would, he were a Trojan!

Nest. What a vice were it in Ajax now
Ulys. If he were proud ?
Dio. Or covetous of praise ?
Ulys. Ay, or · surly borne ?
Dio. "Or strange, or self-affected ?
Ulyl. Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet

composure ;
Praise him that got thee, she that gave thee fuck ;
Fam'd be thy tutor ; and thy * parts of nature
Thrice-fam’d, beyond beyond all erudition :
But he that disciplin'd thy arms to fight,
Let Mars divide eternity in twain,
And give him half: and, for thy vigor,
Bull-bearing Milo his ' addition yield
To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom,
Which, like a ? bourn, a pale, a shore, confines
Thy spacious and dilated parts: Here's Nestor--
Instructed by the antiquary times,
He must, he is, he cannot but be wise ;
But pardon, father Neftor, were your days
As green as Ajax, and your brain so temper’d,
You should not have the eminence of him,
But be as Ajax.

Ajax. Shall I call you father?
Neft. Ay, my good son.
spalter]-huffle, trille. surly borne?]-of a rough carriage.
u Or Prange, or felf-affected?]-Or whimsical, or self-willed.
w composure; ]-disposition.

paris of nature]-natural qualities, or endowments.
y addition]-title,
I bourn]-boundary, or rivulet dividing one place from another.
Come o'er the bourn, Bessy.” King LEAR, AC III, S.6. Edg,
antiquary]-antique, ancient,


Dio. Be ruld 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,
We must with all our main of power stand fast :
And here's a lord,-come knights from east to west,
And cull their flower, Ajax shall cope the best.

Aga. Go we to council. Let Achilles Neep:
Light boats fail swift, though greater hulks draw deep.




TR0 r.

The Palace. Enter Pandarus, and a Servant. [Musick within. Pan. Friend! you! pray you, a word : Do not you follow the


lord Paris ?
Serv. Ay, fir, when he goes before me.
Pan. You do depend upon him, I mean?
Serv. Sir, I do depend upon the lord.

. Pan. You do depend upon a noble gentleman ; I must needs praise him.

Serv. The lord be praised !
Pan. You know me, do you not?
Serv. 'Faith, Sir, fuperficially.
Pan. Friend, know me better; I am the lord Pandarus,
Serv. I hope, I shall know your honour better.
Pan, I do desire ir.

greater bulks ]-vessels of burthen,

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Serv. You are in the state of grace ?

Pan. Grace! not so, friend; honour and lordship are my titles :- What musick is this?

Serv. I do but partly know, Sir; it is musick in parts,
Pan. Know you the musicians ?
Serv. Wholly, sir.
Pan. Who play they to?
Serv. To the hearers, fir.
Pan. At whose pleasure, friend?
Serv. At mine, Sir, and theirs that love musick.
Pan. Command, I mean, friend.
Serv. Who shall I command, sir?

Pan. Friend, we understand not one another; I am too courtly, and thou art too cunning: At whose request do these men play?

Serv. That's to't, indeed, sir: Marry, sir, at the request of Paris my lord, who is there in person; with him, the mortal Venus, the heart-blood of beauty, love's invisible soul,

Pan. Who, my cousin Cressida ?

Serv. No, fir, Helen; Could you not find out that by her attributes ?

Pan. It should seem, fellow, that thou hast not seen the lady Creslida. I come to speak with Paris from the prince Troilus: I will make a complimental assault upon him, for my business seeths. Serv. Sodden business! there's a stew'd phrase, indeed !

Enter Paris, and Helen, attended. Pan. Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair company! fair desires, in all fair measure, fairly guide them! -especially to you, fair queen! fair thoughts be your fair pillow! feetbs]—is urgent, piping hot,


Helen. Dear lord, you are full of fair words.

Pan. You speak your fair pleasure, sweet queen.-Fair prince, here is good broken musick.

Par. You have broke it, cousin: and, by my life, yo shall make it whole again ; you shall piece it out with a piece of your performance:- Nell, he is full of har. mony.

Pan. Truly, lady, no.
Helen. O, sir,
Pen. Rude, in sooth; in good footh, very rude.
Par. Well said, my lord! well, you say so d'in fits.

Pan. I have business to my lord, 'dear queen :-My lord, will you vouchsafe me a word ?

Helen. Nay, this shall not hedge ys out; we'll hear you sing, certainly.

Pan. Well, sweet queen, you are pleasant with me. But (marry) thus, my lord. My dear lord, and most esteemed friend, your brother Troilus

Helen. My lord Pandarus; honey-sweet lord,

Pan. Go to, sweet queen, go to :-commends himself most affectionately to you.

Helen. You shall not bob us out of our melody; If you do, our melancholy upon your head !

Pan. Sweet queen, sweet queen ; that's a sweet queen, i'faith.

Par. And to make a sweet lady fad, is a sour offence.

Helen. Nay, that shall not serve your turn; that shall it not, in truth, la. Nay, I care not for such words; no, no.

Pan. And, my lord, he desires you, that, if the king call for him at supper, you will make his excuse. Helen. My lord Pandarus, in fits.)—at times only, you don't always make that excuse. tob)-cheat.


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