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

Ulyf. 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 wish than their faction; but it was a strong counfel, that a fool could difunite,

Uly. The amity, that wisdom knits not, folly may eafily untye.

Enter Patroclus.

Here comes Patroclus.

Neft. No Achilles with him?

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

Patr. 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 thefe answers:
But his evafion, wing'd thus fwift with fcorn,
Cannot outflie our apprehenfions.

Much attribute he hath, and much the reason
Why we ascribe it to him; yet all his virtues
(Not virtuously on his own part beheld)
Do in our eyes begin to lose their gloss!
And, like fair fruit in an unwholsome dish,
Are like to rot untafted. Go and tell him,

We come to speak with him; and you shall not fin,
If you do fay, we think him over-proud,

In felf affumption greater than in note

Of

Of judgment: fay, men worthier than himself
Here tend the favage ftrangeness he puts on,
Disguise the holy ftrength of their command,
And under-go in an observing kind

His humourous predominance; yea, watch
His courfe and times, 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,

66

Bring action hither, this can't go to war : A ftirring dwarf we do allowance give,

Before a fleeping giant; tell him fo.

Patr. I fhall, and bring his anfwer prefently. [Exit. Aga. In fecond voice we'll not be fatisfied, We come to speak with him. Ulysses, 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 kimfelf 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 less noble, much more gentle, and altogether more tractable.

Ajax. Why should 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 glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle; and whatever praises itself but in the deed, devours the deed in the praise.

Re-enter Ulyffes.

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

Neft. Yet he loves himself: is't not strange?
Ulyf. Achilles will not to the field to morrow.

Aga.

Aga. What's his excuse ?
Uly. He doth rely on none;

But carries on the stream of his difpofe,
Without obfervance or respect of any,
In will peculiar, and in self-admiffion.

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

Uly. Things fmall as nothing, for requeft's fake only,
He makes important: he's poffeft with greatnefs,
And fpeaks 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 himfelf; what should I say?
He is fo plaguy proud, that the death tokens of it
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 so.
We'll confecrate the fteps that Ajax makes,
When they go from Achilles. Shall the proud lord,
That balles his arrogance with his own feam,
And never fuffers matters of the world
Enter his thoughts, (fave such as do revolve
And ruminate himfelf,) fhall he be worship'd
Of That, we hold an idol more than he?
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,) by going to Achilles: That were t'inlard his pride, already fat,

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 applause!

Ajax. If I go go to him--with my armed fift I'll pash him o'er the face.

Aga. O no, you shall not go.

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

Uly. Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.
Ajax. A paltry infolent fellow

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

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

Ulf. Wit would be out of fashion.

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

Neft. An 'twould, you'd carry half.

Uly. He would have ten shares.

Ajax. I will knead him, I'll make him fupple, Neft. He's not yet through warm; (13) force him with praises; pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry. Uly. 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.

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

(13) Ajax. I will knead him, I'll make bim fupple, he is not yet through warm.

Neft. Force bim with praises; &c.] The latter part of Ajax's Speech is certainly got out of Place, and ought to be affign'd to Neftor, as I have ventur'd to transpose it. Ajax is feeding on his Vanity, and boafting what he'll do to Achilles; he'll path him o'er the Face, he'll make him eat Swords; he'll knead him, he'll fupple him, &c. Neftor and Ulyffes flily labour to keep him up in this vein; and to this End Neftor craftily hints, that Ajax is not warm yet, but must be cram'd with more Flattery.

Ajax. A whorfon dog! that palters thus with us 'Would he were a Trojan !

Neft. What a vice were it in Ajax now

Ulf. If he were proud.

Dio. Or covetous of praife.

Uly. Ay, or furly borne.

Dio. Or ftrange, or felf-affected.

Ulyf. Thank the heav'ns, lord, thou art of fweet compofure;

Praife him that got thee, her that gave thee fuck:
Fam'd be thy Tutor, and thy parts of nature
Thrice-fam'd beyond, beyond all erudition;
But he that difciplin'd thy arms to fight,
Let Mars divide eternity in twain,
And give him half; and for thy vigor,
Bull bearing Milo his Addition yields

To finewy Ajax; I'll not praife thy wisdom,
Which like a bourn, a pale, a fhore, confines
Thy fpacious and dilated parts. Here's Neftor,
Inftructed by the Antiquary times;

He must, he is, he cannot but be wife :
But pardon, father Neftor, were your days
As green as Ajax, and your brain fo temper'd,
You should not have the eminence of him,
But be as Ajax.

Ajax. Shall I call you father?

Ulyf. Ay, my good fon.

Dio. Be rul'd 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, friends,
We must with all our main of pow'r stand faft:
And here's a lord, come Knights from Eaft to West,
And cull their flow'r, Ajax fhall cope the best.
Aga. Go we to Council, let Achilles fleep;
Light boats fail fwift, though greater hulks draw deep.

[Exeunt.

ACT