Cal.
Now, princes, for the service I have done you ^note,
The advantage of the time prompts me aloud
To call for recompense. Appear ^note it to your mind ^note
That, through the sight I bear in things to love ^note, ^note
I have abandon'd Troy, left my possession ^note,
Incurr'd a traitor's name; exposed myself,
From certain and possess'd conveniences,
To doubtful fortunes; sequestering from me all ^note
That time, acquaintance, custom and condition
Made tame and most familiar to my nature,
And here, to do you service, am become
As new into ^note the world, strange, unacquainted:
I do beseech you, as in way of taste,
To give me now a little benefit,
Out of those many register'd in promise,
Which, you say, live to come in my behalf.

Agam.
What wouldst thou of us, Trojan? make demand.

Cal.
You have a Trojan prisoner, call'd Antenor,
Yesterday took: Troy holds him very dear.
Oft have you—often have you thanks therefore—
Desired my Cressid in right great exchange,
Whom Troy hath still denied: but this Antenor,
I know, is such a wrest ^note in their affairs
That their negotiations all must slack,
Wanting his ^note manage; and they will almost
Give us a prince of blood, a son of ^note Priam,
In change of him: let him be sent, great princes,
And he shall buy my daughter; and her presence
Shall quite strike off all service I have done,
In most accepted pain ^note.

Agam.
Let Diomedes ^note bear him,
And bring us Cressid hither: Calchas shall have
What he requests of us. Good Diomed,
Furnish you fairly for this interchange:
Withal ^note, bring word if Hector will to-morrow
Be answer'd in his challenge: Ajax is ready.

Dio.
This shall I undertake; and 'tis a burthen
Which I am proud to bear. [Exeunt ^note Diomedes and Calchas. Enter Achilles and Patroclus, before ^note their tent.

Ulyss.
Achilles stands i' the entrance of his tent:
Please it our general pass ^note strangely by him,
As if he were forgot; and, princes all,
Lay negligent and loose regard upon him:
I will come last. 'Tis like he'll question me
Why such unplausive ^note eyes are bent on ^note him:

If so, I have derision ^note medicinable,
To use between your ^note strangeness and his pride,
Which his own will shall have desire to drink.
It may do good: pride hath no other glass
To show itself but pride, for supple knees
Feed arrogance and are the proud man's fees.

Agam.
We'll execute your purpose and put on
A form of strangeness as we pass along;
So do each lord, and either greet him not
Or else disdainfully, which shall shake him more
Than if not look'd on. I will lead the way.

Achil.
What, comes the general to speak with me?
You know my mind; I'll fight no more 'gainst Troy.

Agam.
What says Achilles? would he aught with us?

Nest.
Would you, my lord, aught with the general?

Achil.
No.

Nest.
Nothing, my lord.

Agam.
The better. [Exeunt ^note Agamemnon and Nestor.

Achil.
Good day, good day.

Men.
How do you? how do you? [Exit. ^note

Achil.
What, does the cuckold scorn me?

Ajax.
How now, Patroclus!

Achil.
Good morrow, Ajax.

Ajax.
Ha? ^note

Achil.
Good morrow ^note.

Ajax.
Ay, and good next day too. [Exit. ^note

Achil.
What mean these fellows? Know they not Achilles? ^note

Patr.
They pass by ^note strangely: they were used to bend,
To send their smiles before them to Achilles,
To come as humbly as they used ^note to creep
To holy altars ^note.

Achil.
What, am I poor of late?
'Tis certain, greatness, once fall'n out with fortune,
Must fall out with men too: what the declined is,
He shall as soon read in the eyes of others
As feel in his own fall: for men, like butterflies,
Show not their mealy wings but to the summer,
And not a man, for being simply ^note man,
Hath any ^note honour, but honour for ^note those honours
That are without him, as place, riches, and favour ^note,
Prizes of accident as oft as merit:
Which when they fall, as being slippery standers,
The love ^note that lean'd on them as slippery too,
Do one ^note pluck down another and together
Die in the fall ^note. But 'tis not so with me:
Fortune and I are friends: I do enjoy
At ample point all that I did possess,
Save these men's looks; who do, methinks, find out
Something not worth in me such ^note rich beholding
As they have often given. Here is Ulysses:
I'll interrupt his reading. ^note
How now ^note, Ulysses ^note!

Ulyss.
Now, great ^note Thetis' son!

Achil.
What are you reading?

Ulyss.
A strange fellow here
Writes me: ‘That man, how dearly ever parted,
How much in having, or without or in,
Cannot make boast to have that which he hath,
Nor feels not what he owes, but by reflection;
As when his virtues shining ^note upon others

Heat them, and they retort that heat again
To the first giver ^note.’

Achil.
This is not strange, Ulysses.
The beauty that is borne ^note here in the face
The bearer knows not, but ^note commends itself
To others' eyes: nor doth the eye itself,
That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself ^note,
Not going from itself; but eye to eye ^note opposed
Salutes ^note each other with each other's form:
For speculation turns not to itself,
Till it hath travell'd and is married ^note there
Where it may see itself. This is not strange at all ^note.

Ulyss.
I do not strain at ^note the position—
It is familiar—but at ^note the author's drift;
Who in his circumstance expressly proves
That no man ^note is the lord of any thing,
Though in and of him there be ^note much consisting,
Till he communicate his parts to others;
Nor doth he of himself know them for aught
Till he behold them formed ^note in the ^note applause
Where they're ^note extended; who ^note, like an arch, reverberates ^note
The voice again; or, like a gate of steel
Fronting the sun, receives and renders back
His figure and his heat. I was much rapt in this;
And apprehended here immediately ^note
The unknown Ajax.

Heavens, what a man is there! a very horse;
That has he knows not what. Nature, ^note what things there ^note are,
Most abject ^note in regard and dear in use! ^note
What things again most dear in the esteem
And poor in worth! Now shall we see to-morrow—
An act ^note that very chance doth throw upon him—
Ajax renown'd ^note. ^note O heavens, what some men do,
While some men leave to do! ^note
How some men creep ^note in skittish fortune's hall,
While others play the idiots in her eyes ^note!
How one man eats into another's pride,
While pride is fasting ^note in his wantonness!
To see these Grecian lords! Why, even already
They clap the lubber Ajax on the shoulder,
As if his foot were on ^note brave Hector's breast
And great Troy shrieking ^note.

Achil.
I do believe it ^note; for they ^note pass'd by me
As misers do by beggars, neither gave to me
Good word nor look ^note: what, are my deeds forgot? ^note

Ulyss.
Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back
Wherein he puts alms for oblivion,
A great-sized monster of ingratitudes ^{note note}:

Those scraps are good deeds past, which are devour'd
As fast as they are made, forgot as soon
As done ^note: perseverance ^note, dear my lord, ^note
Keeps honour bright ^note: to have done, is to hang
Quite out of fashion, like a rusty ^note mail ^note
In monumental mockery. Take the instant way ^note;
For honour travels in a strait so narrow,
Where one ^note but goes abreast: keep then the path;
For emulation hath a thousand sons
That one by one pursue: if you give way,
Or hedge ^note aside from the direct forthright,
Like to an enter'd tide they all rush by
And leave you hindmost:
Or, like a ^note gallant horse fall'n in first ^note rank,
Lie ^note there for pavement to the abject rear, ^note
O'er-run and ^note trampled on: then ^note what they do in present,
Though less than yours in past ^note, must o'ertop yours;
For time is like a fashionable host
That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand,
And with his ^note arms outstretch'd, as he would fly,

Grasps in the comer: ^note welcome ^note ever smiles,
And farewell ^note goes out sighing. O, ^note let not virtue seek
Remuneration ^note for the thing it was;
For beauty, wit ^note,
High birth, vigour of bone, ^note desert in service,
Love, friendship, charity ^note, are subjects all ^note
To envious and calumniating time.
One touch of nature makes the whole world kin;
That all with one consent praise new-born gawds,
Though they are made and moulded of things past,
And give ^note to dust that is a little gilt
More laud than gilt ^note o'er-dusted ^{note note}.
The present eye praises the present object:
Then marvel not, thou great and complete man,
That all the Greeks ^note begin to worship Ajax;
Since things in motion sooner catch ^note the eye
Than what not stirs ^note. The cry went once on ^note thee,
And still it might, and yet it may again,
If thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive
And case thy reputation in thy tent,
Whose glorious deeds, but in these fields of late,
Made emulous missions ^note 'mongst the gods themselves,
And drave great Mars to faction.

Achil.
Of this ^note my privacy

I have strong reasons.

Ulyss.
But 'gainst ^note your privacy
The reasons are more potent and heroical:
'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love
With one of Priam's daughters.

Achil.
Ha! known? ^note

Ulyss.
Is that a wonder?
The providence that's in a watchful state
Knows almost every grain of Plutus' gold, ^note
Finds bottom in the uncomprehensive deeps ^note,
Keeps place ^note with thought and almost like the gods
Does thoughts ^note unveil in their dumb cradles ^{note note}.
There is a mystery, with whom ^note relation
Durst never meddle, in the soul of state;
Which hath an operation more divine
Than breath or pen ^note can give expressure to:
All the commerce that you have had with Troy
As perfectly is ours as yours, my lord;
And better would it fit Achilles much
To throw down Hector than Polyxena:
But it must grieve young Pyrrhus now at home,
When fame shall in our islands ^note sound her trump;
And all the Greekish girls shall tripping sing
‘Great Hector's sister did Achilles win,
But our great Ajax bravely beat down him ^note.’

Farewell, my lord: I as your lover speak;
The fool slides o'er the ice that you should break. [Exit. ^{note note}

Patr.
To this effect, Achilles, have I moved you:
A woman impudent and mannish grown
Is not more loathed than an effeminate man
In time of action ^note. I stand condemn'd for this;
They think my little stomach to the war
And your great love to me restrains you thus:
Sweet, ^note rouse yourself, and the weak wanton Cupid ^note
Shall from your neck unloose ^note his amorous fold,
And, like a ^note dew-drop from the lion's name,
Be shook to air ^note.

Achil.
Shall Ajax fight with Hector?

Patr.
Ay, and perhaps receive much honour by him.

Achil.
I see my reputation is at stake;
My fame is shrewdly ^note gored.

Patr.
O, then, beware;
Those wounds heal ill that men do give themselves:
Omission to do what is necessary
Seals a commission to a blank of danger;
And danger, like an ague, subtly taints
Even then when we ^note sit idly in the sun.

Achil.
Go call Thersites hither, sweet Patroclus:
I'll send the fool to Ajax and desire him
To invite the Trojan lords after the combat
To see us here ^note unarm'd ^note: I have a woman's longing,
An appetite that I am sick withal,
To see great Hector in his ^note weeds of peace;
To talk with him, and to behold his visage,
Even to my full of view.—A labour saved!

Enter Thersites. ^{note note}

Ther.

A wonder!

Achil.

What?

Ther.

Ajax goes up and down the field, asking for himself.

Achil.

How so?

Ther.

He must fight singly to-morrow with Hector, and is so prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling that he raves in saying nothing.

Achil.

How can that be?

Ther.

Why, a' ^note stalks up and down like a peacock,—a stride and a stand: ruminates like an hostess that hath no arithmetic but her brain to set down her reckoning: bites his lip with a politic regard, as who should say ‘There were wit in this head ^note, an ^note 'twould out:’ and so there is; but it lies as coldly in him as fire in a flint, which will not show without knocking. The man's undone for ever; for if Hector break not his neck i' the combat, he'll break 't ^note himself in vain-glory. He knows not me: I said ‘Good morrow, Ajax;’ and he replies ^note ‘Thanks, Agamemnon.’ What think you of this man, that takes me for the general? He's grown a very land-fish, languageless, a monster. A plague of opinion! a man may wear it on both sides, like a leather jerkin.

Achil.

Thou must be my ambassador to him ^note, Thersites.

Ther.

Who, I? why, he'll answer nobody; he professes not answering: speaking is for beggars; he wears his tongue in's arms. I will put on his presence: let Patroclus make demands ^note to me, you shall see the pageant of Ajax.

Achil.

To him, Patroclus: tell him I humbly desire the valiant Ajax to invite the most ^note valorous Hector to come unarmed to my tent, and to procure safe-conduct for his person of the magnanimous ^note and most illustrious six-or-

seven-times-honoured captain-general ^note of the Grecian ^note army, Agamemnon, et cetera. ^note Do this.

Patr.

Jove bless great Ajax!

Ther.

Hum!

Patr.

I come from the worthy Achilles,—

Ther.

Ha!

Patr.

Who most humbly desires you to invite Hector to his tent,—

Ther.

Hum!

Patr.

And to procure safe-conduct from Agamemnon.

Ther.

Agamemnon?

Patr.

Ay, my lord.

Ther.

Ha!

Patr.

What say you to 't?

Ther.

God be wi' you ^note, with all my heart.

Patr.

Your answer, sir.

Ther.

If to-morrow be a fair day, by eleven of the ^note clock it will go one way or other: howsoever, he shall pay for me ere he has me.

Patr.

Your answer, sir.

Ther.

Fare you ^note well, with all my heart.

Achil.

Why, but he is not in this tune, is he?

Ther.

No, but he's out o' tune ^note thus. What music will be in him ^note when Hector has knocked out his brains, I know not; but, I am sure, none, unless the fiddler Apollo get his sinews to make catlings on.

Achil.

Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight.

Ther.

Let me bear ^note another to his horse; for that's the more capable creature.

Achil.
My mind is troubled like a fountain stirr'd,

And I myself see not the bottom of it. [Exeunt ^note Achilles and Patroclus.

Ther.

Would the fountain of your mind were clear again, that I might water an ass at it! I had rather be a tick in a sheep than such a valiant ignorance.