les, Achilles is a fool to be commanded of Agamemnon, Therfites is a fool to serve such a fool, and Pairoclus is a fool pofitive.

Pat. Why am I a fool?

Ther. Make that demand to thy creator; it fuffices

me thou art.

SCENE

VI.

Enter Agamemnon, Ulyffes, Neftor, Diomedes, Ajax, and Calchas.

Look you, who comes here?
Achil. Patroclus, I'll fpeak with no body
with me, Therfites.

come in [Exit. 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. Aga. Let it be known to him that we are here. 'He fent us` meffengers, and we lay by

Our appertainments, vifiting of him':

Let him be told fo, left perchance he think
We dare not move the queftion of our place,
Or know not what we are,

Pat. I fhall fo fay to him.

Ulyf. We faw him at the opening of his tent, He is not fick.

[Exit.

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? Ulyf. Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him. Neft. Who? Therfites?

7 He fhent our

Ulyf

Ulys. He.

Neft. Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have loft his argument.

Ulyf. 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 strong counsel that a fool could difunite.

Ulyf. The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may cafily untye.

SCENE

Enter Patroclus.

Here comes Patroclus.

Neft. No Achilles with him?

VII.

Uly. The elephant hath joints, but none for courtefie His legs are for neceffity, not flexure.

Pat. Achilles bids me fay, he is much forry,
If any thing more than your sport and pleasure,
Did move your greatnefs, and this noble state,
To call on him; he hopes it is no other,
But for your health and your digeftion-sake';
An after-dinner's breath.

Aga. Hear you, Patroclus;

We are too well acquainted with these answers:
But his evafion wing'd thus fwift with fcorn,
Cannot outflie our apprehenfions.

Much attribute he hath, and much the reason
Why we afcribe it to him; yet his virtues
(Not virtuously on his own part beheld)
Do in our eyes begin to lofe their glofs;
And like fair fruit in an unwholefome difh,
Are like to rot untafted. Go and tell him,
We come to speak with him; you shall not fin
If you do fay we think him over-proud,
In felf-affumption greater than in note
Of judgment: fay, men worthier than himself

Here

;

Here tend the favage ftrangenefs he puts on,
Disguise the holy ftrength of their command,
And undergo in an obferving kind

His humorous predominance; yea, watch
'His pettifh lunes, his ebbs and flows; as if
The paffage and whole carriage of this action
Rode on his tide. Go tell him this, and add,
That if he over-hold his price fo much,
We'll none of him; but let him, like an engine
Not portable, lye under this report,

Bring action bither, this can't go to war:
A ftirring dwarf we do allowance give,
Before a fleeping giant; tell him fo.

Pat. I fhall, and bring his anfwer presently.
Aga. In fecond voice we'll not be fatisfied;

[Exit.

We come to speak with him. Ulyffes, enter. [Exit Ulyf. 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 question.

Ajax. Will you fubfcribe his thought, and fay he is? Aga. No, noble Ajax, you are as ftrong, as valiant, as wife, no lefs 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 himfelf. Pride is his own glafs, his own trumpet, his own chronicle; and whatever praises 9 'but it felf in the deed, devours the deed in the praise..

Ajax. I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendring of toads.

Neft.

8 His courfe and times, or His pettish Lines. 9 it felf but

Neft. Yet he loves himself: is't not strange?
Ulyf. Achilles will not to the field to-morrow.
Aga. What's his excufe?

Ulyf. He doth rely on none;

But carries on the ftream of his dispose,
Without obfervance or refpect of any,
In will peculiar, and in self-admiffion..

Aga. Why will he not, upon our fair requeft,
Un-tent his person, and fhare the air with us?

Ulyf. Things fmall as nothing, for request's fake only, He makes important: he's poffeft with greatness, And speaks not to himself, but with a pride That quarrels at felf-breath. Imagin'd worth Holds in his blood fuch fwoln and hot discourse, That 'twixt his mental and his active parts, Kingdom'd Achilles in commotion, rages And batters down himself; what should I say? He is fo plaguy proud, that the 'death-tokens Cry, No recovery.

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 request a little from himself.

Ulyf. O, Agamemnon, let it not be fo."
We'll confecrate the fteps that Ajax makes,
When they go from Achilles. Shall the proud Lord,
That bastes his arrogance with his own feam,
And never fuffers matters of the world
Enter his thoughts, fave fuch, as do revolve
And ruminate himself, fhall he be worship'd
Of that we hold an idol more than him?
No, this thrice worthy and right valiant Lord
Muft not fo ftale his palm, nobly acquir'd,
Nor by my will affubjugate his merit,
As amply titled as Achilles' is,

2

By going to Achilles ;3 'for that were
But to enlard his pride, already fat,

I death-tokens of it 2 he?

3 That were t'inlard

And

And add more coals to Cancer, when he burns
With entertaining great Hyperion.

This Lord go to him? Jupiter forbid,
And fay in thunder, Achilles go to him!

Neft. O, this is well, he rubs the vein of him.
Dio. And how his filence drinks up this applaufe!
Ajax. If I go to him-with my armed fift
Pll pafh him o'er the face.

Aga. O no, you fhall not go.

Ajax. An he be proud with me, I'll pheese his pride; Let me go to him.

Ulyf. Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.
Ajax. A paultry infolent fellow

Neft. How he defcribes himself!
Ajax. Can he not be fociable?
Uly. The raven chides blackness.
Ajax. I'll let his humours blood.

Aga. He'll be the phyfician, that fhould be the patient.
Ajax. An all men were o' my mind

Ulyf. Wit would be out of fashion.

Ajax. He fhould not bear it fo, he fhould eat fwords firft: fhall pride carry it?

Neft. An 'twould, you'd carry

Uly. He would have ten fhares.

half.

Ajax. I will knead him, I'll make him fupple, Neft. He's not yet through warm, force him with praifes; pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry. Ulyf. My Lord, you feed too much on this dislike. Neft. Our noble General, do not do so.

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.

Ulyf.

4 Ajax. I will knead him, I'll make him fupple, he is not yet through warm.

Neft. Force him with praises, &c. ... old edit. Theob. emend.