For emulation hath a thousand sons
That one by one
pursue; if you give way,
Or hedge aside from the direct forthright,
Like to an ent'red tide they all rush by
And leave you hindmost;
Or, like a
gallant horse fall'n in first rank,
Lie there for
pavement to the
abject rear,
O'er-run and trampled on. Then what they do in present,
Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours;
For Time is like a
fashionable host,
That
slightly shakes his
parting guest by th' hand;
And with his arms out-stretch'd, as he would fly,
Grasps in the corner. The
welcome ever smiles,
And
farewell goes out sighing. O, let not
virtue seek
Remuneration for the thing it was;
For beauty, wit,
High birth,
vigour of bone, desert in service,
Love, friendship,
charity, are subjects all
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 to dust that is a little gilt
More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.
The present eye praises the present object.
Then
marvel not, thou great and complete man,
That all the Greeks begin to
worship Ajax,
Since things in
motion sooner catch the eye
Than what stirs not. The cry went once on 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 'mongst the gods themselves,
And drave great Mars to faction.
ACHILLES. Of this my privacy
I have strong reasons.
ULYSSES. But 'gainst your privacy
The reasons are more
potent and heroical.
'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love
With one of Priam's daughters.
ACHILLES. Ha! known!
ULYSSES. Is that a wonder?
The
providence that's in a
watchful state
Knows almost every grain of Plutus' gold;
Finds bottom in th' uncomprehensive deeps;
Keeps place with thought, and almost, like the gods,
Do thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles.
There is a mystery-with whom relation
Durst never meddle-in the soul of state,
Which hath an operation more divine
Than
breath or pen 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 island 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.'
Farewell, my lord. I as your lover speak.
The fool slides o'er the ice that you should break. Exit
PATROCLUS. To this effect, Achilles, have I mov'd you.
A woman impudent and mannish grown
Is not more loath'd than an
effeminate man
In time of action. I stand condemn'd for this;
They think my little
stomach to the war
And your great love to me restrains you thus.
Sweet, rouse yourself; and the weak
wanton Cupid
Shall from your neck
unloose his amorous fold,
And, like a dew-drop from the lion's mane,
Be shook to airy air.
ACHILLES. Shall Ajax fight with Hector?
PATROCLUS. Ay, and perhaps receive much honour by him.
ACHILLES. I see my
reputation is at stake;
My fame is shrewdly gor'd.
PATROCLUS. 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 they sit idly in the sun.
ACHILLES. Go call Thersites
hither, sweet Patroclus.
I'll send the fool to Ajax, and desire him
T' invite the Troyan lords, after the combat,
To see us here unarm'd. I have a woman's longing,
An
appetite that I am sick withal,
To see great Hector in his weeds of peace;
To talk with him, and to behold his visage,
Even to my full of view.
Enter THERSITES
A labour sav'd!
THERSITES. A wonder!
ACHILLES. What?
THERSITES. Ajax goes up and down the field asking for himself.
ACHILLES. How so?
THERSITES. He must fight singly to-
morrow with Hector, and is so
prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling that he raves in
saying nothing.
ACHILLES. How can that be?
THERSITES. Why, 'a stalks up and down like a peacock-a
stride and a
stand; ruminaies 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, an
'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' th' combat,
he'll break't himself in vainglory. He knows not me. I said 'Good
morrow, Ajax'; and he replies '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 leather jerkin.
ACHILLES. Thou must be my
ambassador to him, Thersites.
THERSITES. 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 his demands
to me, you shall see the
pageant of Ajax.
ACHILLES. To him, Patroclus. Tell him I
humbly desire the
valiantAjax to invite the most valorous Hector to come unarm'd to my
tent; and to
procure safe conduct for his person of the
magnanimous and most
illustrious six-or-seven-times-honour'd
Captain General of the Grecian army, et cetera, Agamemnon. Do
this.
PATROCLUS. Jove bless great Ajax!
THERSITES. Hum!
PATROCLUS. I come from the
worthy Achilles-
THERSITES. Ha!
PATROCLUS. Who most
humbly desires you to invite Hector to his
tent-
THERSITES. Hum!
PATROCLUS. And to
procure safe conduct from Agamemnon.
THERSITES. Agamemnon!
PATROCLUS. Ay, my lord.
THERSITES. Ha!
PATROCLUS. What you say to't?
THERSITES. God buy you, with all my heart.
PATROCLUS. Your answer, sir.
THERSITES. If to-
morrow be a fair day, by eleven of the clock it
will go one way or other. Howsoever, he shall pay for me ere he
has me.
PATROCLUS. Your answer, sir.
THERSITES. Fare ye well, with all my heart.
ACHILLES. Why, but he is not in this tune, is he?
THERSITES. No, but he's out a tune thus. What music will be in him
when Hector has knock'd out his brains I know not; but, I am sure,
none; unless the fiddler Apollo get his sinews to make catlings
on.
ACHILLES. Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight.
THERSITES. Let me carry another to his horse; for that's the more
capable creature.
ACHILLES. My mind is troubled, like a
fountain stirr'd;
And I myself see not the bottom of it.
Exeunt ACHILLES and PATROCLUS
THERSITES. 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
valiantignorance. Exit
ACT IV. SCENE 1.
Troy. A street
Enter, at one side, AENEAS, and servant with a
torch; at another, PARIS, DEIPHOBUS, ANTENOR,
DIOMEDES the Grecian, and others, with torches
PARIS. See, ho! Who is that there?
DEIPHOBUS. It is the Lord Aeneas.
AENEAS. Is the Prince there in person?
Had I so good occasion to lie long
As you, Prince Paris, nothing but
heavenly business
Should rob my bed-mate of my company.
DIOMEDES. That's my mind too. Good
morrow, Lord Aeneas.
PARIS. A
valiant Greek, Aeneas -take his hand:
Witness the process of your speech, wherein
You told how Diomed, a whole week by days,
Did haunt you in the field.
AENEAS. Health to you,
valiant sir,
During all question of the gentle truce;
But when I meet you arm'd, as black defiance
As heart can think or courage execute.
DIOMEDES. The one and other Diomed embraces.
Our bloods are now in calm; and so long health!
But when
contention and occasion meet,
By Jove, I'll play the
hunter for thy life
With all my force,
pursuit, and policy.
AENEAS. And thou shalt hunt a lion, that will fly
With his face
backward. In
humane gentleness,
Welcome to Troy! now, by Anchises' life,
Welcome indeed! By Venus' hand I swear
No man alive can love in such a sort
The thing he means to kill, more excellently.
DIOMEDES. We sympathise. Jove let Aeneas live,
If to my sword his fate be not the glory,
A thousand complete courses of the sun!
But in mine emulous honour let him die
With every joint a wound, and that to-
morrow!
AENEAS. We know each other well.
DIOMEDES.We do; and long to know each other worse.
PARIS. This is the most despiteful'st gentle greeting
The noblest
hateful love, that e'er I heard of.
What business, lord, so early?
AENEAS. I was sent for to the King; but why, I know not.
PARIS. His purpose meets you: 'twas to bring this Greek
To Calchas' house, and there to render him,