(As amply titled, as Achilles is,) by going to Achilles: This lord go to him? Jupiter forbid, Neft. O, this is well, he rubs the vein of him. Aga. O no, you shall not go. Ajax. An he be proud with me, Ill 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 defcribes himself! Ulyff. 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 Ajax. He fhould not bear it fo, he fhould eat fwords firft: fhall pride carry it? Neft. An 'twould, you'd carry half. Uly. He would have ten fhares. 2 -4 Ajax. I will knead him, I'll make him fupple Neft. He is not yet through warm: force him with praifes; pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry. Ulyff. My lord, you feed too much on this diflike. 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. 2 Ajax. Iwill knead him, I'll make him fupple, he's not yet through warm.] The latter part of this fpeech fhould be given to Neftor. Here Here is a man- but 'tis before his face I will be filent. Neft. Wherefore should you fo? He is not emulous, as Achilles is. Ulyff. Know the whole world, he is as valiant. Ajax. A whorfon dog! that palters thus with us Would he were a Trojan! Neft. What a vice were it in Ajax now Ulyff. If he were proud. Dio. Or covetous of praise. Ulyff. Ay, or furly borne. Dio. Or ftrange, or felf-affected. Uly. Thank the heav'ns, lord, thou art of sweet compofure; Praise him that got thee, her that gave thee fuck: To finewy Ajax; I'll not praise thy wisdom, He muft, he is, he cannot but be wife: Ajax. Shall I call you father? Ulyff. 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 fast: And here's a lord, come Knights from Eaft to Weft, And cull their flow'r, Ajax fhall cope the beft. Aga. Go we to Council, let Achilles sleep; Light boats fail fwift, though greater hulks draw deep. [Exeunt. ACT III. SCENE I Paris's Apartments in the Palace, in Troy. Enter Pandarus, and a Servant. [Mufick within.] FR PANDAR U S. RIEND! you! pray you, a word: do not you follow the young lord Paris? Ser. Ay, Sir, when he goes before me. Pan. You do depend upon him, I mean? Pan. You do depend upon a noble gentleman: I muft needs praise him. Ser. The lord be praised! Pan. You know me, do you not? Ser. Faith, Sir, fuperficially. Pan. Friend, know me better; I am the lord Ser. I hope, I fhall know your honour better. Ser. You are in the ftate of Grace. Pan. Grace? not fo, friend: honour and lordship, are my titles: What mufick is this? Ser. I do but partly know, Sir; it is musick in parts. Pan. Know you the musicians? Ser Ser. Wholly, Sir. Pan. Who play they to? Ser. To the hearers, Sir. Pan. At whofe pleasure, friend? Ser. At mine, Sir, and theirs that love mufick. Ser. Who fhall I command, Sir? Pan. Friend, we understand not one another: I am too courtly, and thou art too cunning. At whofe requeft do these men play? Ser. That's to't, indeed, Sir; marry, Sir, at the request of Paris my lord, who's there in perfon; with him the mortal Venus, the heart-blood of beauty, (a) love's visible foul. Pan. Who, my coufin Creffida? Ser. No, Sir, Helen; could you not find out That by her attributes? Pan. It fhould feem, fellow, that thou haft not seen the lady Creffida. I come to fpeak with Paris from the Prince Troilus: I will make a complemental affault upon him, for my bufinefs feethes. Ser. Sodden business! there's a stew'd phrase, indeed. S C E N E II. Enter Paris and Helen, attended. Pan. Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair company! fair Defires in all fair measure fairly guide them; efpecially to you, fair Queen, fair thoughts your fair pillow! be Helen. Dear lord, you are full of fair words. Pan. You fpeak your fair pleasure, sweet Queen; fair Prince, here is good broken musick. Par. You have broken it, coufin, and, by my life, [(a) love's vifible foul. Oxford Editor-Vulg. love's invifible foul.] VOL. VII. Ee you : you shall make it whole again; you fhall piece it out with a piece of your performance. Nell, he is full of harmony. Pan. Truly, lady, no. Helen. O, Sir Pan. Rude, in footh; in good footh, very rude. Par. Well faid, my lord; well, you fay fo in fits. Pan. I have bufinefs to my lord, dear Queen; my lord, will you vouchfafe me a word? Helen. Nay, this fhall not hedge us out; we'll hear you fing, certainly. Pan. Well, fweet Queen, you are pleasant with me; but marry thus, my lord;-my dear lord, and moft esteemed Friend, your brother Troilus Helen. My lord Pandarus, honey-fweet lord,Pan. Go to, fweet Queen, go to —— Commends himself moft affectionately to you. Helen. You fhall not bob us out of our melody: If you do, our melancholy upon your head! Pan. Sweet Queen, fweet Queen, that's a sweet Queen, I'faith. Helen. And to make a fweet lady fad, is a fower offence. Nay, that fhall not serve your turn, that shall it not in truth, la. Nay, I care not for fuch words, no, no Pan. And, my lord, he defires you, that if the King call for him at fupper, you will make his excuse. Helen. My lord Pandarus, Pan. What fays my sweet Queen, my very very fweet Queen? Par. What exploit's in hand, where fups he to night? Helen. Nay, but my lord, Pan. What fays my fweet Queen? my coufin will fall out with you. Helen. You must not know where he fups. Par. |