could'st not have flipt out of my contemplation: but it is no matter, thy felf upon thy felf! The common curfe of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in great revenue! Heav'ens blefs thee from a tutor, and difcipline come not near thee! Let thy blood be thy direction till thy death; then if she that lays thee out, fays thou arta fair corfe, I'll be fworn and fworn upon't, the never throwded any but Lazars. Amen. Where's Achilles ?. Pat. What, art thou devout? waft thou in prayer? Ther. Ay, the heav'ns hear me?

Enter Achilles.

Achil. Who's there?

Patr. Therfites, my Lord.

Achil. Where, where? art thou come, why, my cheefe, my digestion -why haft thou not ferved thyfelf up to my table, fo many meals? Come, what's A. gamemnon!

Ther. Thy commander, Achilles: then tell me, Patroclus, what's Achilles?

Pat. Thy Lord, Therfites: then tell me, I pray thee, what's thy felf?

Ther. Thy knower, Patroclus: then tell me, Patroclus, what art thou?

Pat. Thou may't tell that know'st.

Achil. O tell, tell,

Ther. I'll decline the whole queftion. Agamemnon. commands Achilles, Achilles is my Lord, I am Patroclus's knower, and Patroclus is a fool.

Pat. You rafcal

Ther. Peace, fool, I have not done.

Achil. He is a privileg'd man. Proceed, Therfites. Ther. Agamemnon is a fool, Achilles is a fool, Ther fites is a fool, and, as aforesaid, Patroclus is a fool. Achil. Derive this; come.

Ther. Agamemnon is a fool to offer to command Achilles; Achilles is a fool to be commanded of Aga memnon; Therfites is a fool to ferve fuch a fool; and Patroclus is a fool pofitive.

Pat. Why am I a fool?

Ther. Make that demand to thy Creator ;Aces me thou art.

-it fuf

S CE N E VI.

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

Look you, who comes here?

Achil, Fatroclus, I'll fpeak with no body: come in with me, Therfites. [Exit. Ther. Here is fuch patchery, fuch juggling, and tuch 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 subject, 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 thent our meffengers, and we lay by
Our appertainments, vifiting of him:

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

Pat. I fhall fo fay to him.

Uly. We law 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?

Uly-Achilles hath inviegled his tool from him.
Neft. Who, Therfites?

Ulyff He..

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

Uly. 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 ftrong couníel that a fool could difunite.

The amity that wildom knits not, folly may cafily untie.

SCENE VII.

Enter Patroclus.

Here comes Patroclus.

Neft. No Achilles with him?

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

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

Aga. Hear you, Patroclus;

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

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

Of judgement: fay, men worthier than himself:
Here tend the favage ftrangeness he puts on,
Disguise the holy ftrength of their command,
And undergo in an obferving kind
His humorous predominance; yea, watch
His pettish 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, lie under this report,

Bring action hither, this can't go to war.

A ftirring dwart we do allowance give,

Before a fleeping giant; tell hẩm fò,

Pat. I thall, and bring his antwer prefently. [Exit Aga. In fecond voice we'll not be fatisfied,

We come to speak with him. Ulyffes, enter.

Ajax. What is he more than another?

[Exit Ulyffes.

Aga. No more than what he thinks he is.

Ajax. Is he fo much? do you not think he thinks himfeif a better man than I am?

Aga. No quellion.

Ajax. Will you fubfcribe his thought, and fay, he is? Aga. No, Noble Ajax; you are as itrong, 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 himself. Pride is his own glafs, his own trumpet, his own chronicle; and whatever praises itself but in the deed, devours the deed in the praise.

SCENE VIII.

Re-enter Ulyffes.

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

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

Uly. He doth rely on none;

But carries on the fream of his difpofe,
Without obfervance or refpect of any.

In will-peculiar, and in felt-admiffion.

Aga, Why will he not, upon our fair requeft, Untent his perfon, and fhare the air with us?

Ub. Things fmall as nothing, for requeft's fake only He makes important: he's poffefs'd with greatness, And speaks not to himself, but with a pride That quarrels at felf-breath. Imagin'd worth Holds in his blood such swoln and hot difcourfe, That, 'twixt his mental and his active parts, Kingdom'd Achilles in commotion rages, And batters down himfelf; what fhould I fay? 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,

Uly. O, Agamemnon, let it not be fo We'll confecrate the steps that Ajax makes,

When they go from Achilles. Shall the proud Lord,
That baltes 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 worshipp'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 applaufe! Ajax. If I go to him- with my armed filt

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.

Uy. Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.
Ajax. A paltry 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 shall be the patient,
Ajax. An' all men were o' my mind-

Ulyff. Wit would be out of fathion.

Ajax. He fhould not bear it fo, he should eat fwords

first thall pride carry it?

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

Ulyff He would have ten shares.

Ajax. I will knead him, I'll make him fupple