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You should not have the eminence of him,
But be as Ajax.

Ajax. Shall I call you father?
Nest. Ay, my good son.
Dio.

Be ruld by him, lord Ajax
Ulyss. 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,
We must with all our main of power stand fast:
And here's a lord,—come knights from east to west,
And cull their flower, Ajax shall cope the best.

Agam. Go we to council. Let Achilles sleep: Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw deep.

ACT. III.

AN EXPECTING LOVER.

No, Pandarus, I stalk about her door,
Like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks
Staying for waftage. O, be thou my Charon,
And give me swift transportance to those fields,
Where I may wallow in the lily beds
Propos'd for the deserver! O gentle Pandarus,
From Cupid's shoulder pluck his painted wings,
And fly with me to Cressid!

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I am giddy; expectation whirls me round.
The imaginary relish is so sweet
That it enchants my sense: What will it be,
When that the wat'ry palate tastes indeed
Love's thrice-reputed nectar? death, I fear me;
Swooning destruction; or some joy too fine,
Too subtle-potent, tun'd too sharp in sweetness,
For the capacity of my ruder powers:
I fear it much ; and I do fear besides,
That I shall lose distinction in my joys;

As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps
The enemy flying.

Even such a passion doth embrace my bosom: My heart beats thicker than a fev'rous pulse; And all my powers do their bestowing lose, Like vassalage at unawares encount'ring The eye

of majesty.

CONSTANCY IN LOVE PROTESTED. Tro. True swains in love shall, in the world to come, Approve their truths by Troilus: when their rhymes, Full of protest, of oath, and big compare *, Want similes, truth tir'd with iteration, As true as steel, as plantage to the moon, As sun to day, as turtle to her mate, As iron to adamant, as earth to the centre, Yet, after all comparisons of truth, As Truth's authentic author to be cited, As true as Troilus shall crown upt the verse, And sanctify the numbers. Cres.

Prophet may you be! If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth, When time is old and hath forgot itself, When waterdrops have worn the stones of Troy, And blind oblivion swallow'd cities up, And mighty states characterless are grated To dusty nothing; yet let memory, From false to false, among false maids in love, Upbraid my falsehood! wben they have said-as false As air, as water, wind, or sandy earth, As fox to lamb, as wolf to heifer's calf, Pard to the hind, or stepdame to her son; Yea, let them say, to stick the heart of falsehood, As false as Cressid.

PRIDE CURES PRIDE.

Pride hath no other glass
To show itself, but pride; for supple knees
Feed arrogance, and are the proud man's fees.
* Comparison.

+ Conclude it.

1

GREATNESS CONTEMPTIBLE WHEN ON THE DECLINE.

'Tis certain, greatness, once fallen out with fortune, Must fall out with men too: What the declin'd 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 man, Hath any honour; but honour for those honours That are without him, as places, riches, favour, Prizes of accident as oft as merit: Which when they fall, as being slippery standers, The love that leau'd on them as slippery too, Do one pluck down another, and together Die in the fall.

HONOUR MUST BE ACTIVE TO PRESERVE ITS J.USTRE.

Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-sized monster of ingratitudes: Those scraps are good deeds past: which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done: Perseverance, dear my lord, Keeps honour bright: To have done, is to hang Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail In monumental mockery. Take the instant way; For honour travels in a strait so narrow, Where one but goes abreast: keep then the path ; For emulation hath a thousand sons, That one by one pursue: If give way, Or hedge aside from the direct forthright, Like to an enter'd tide, they all rush by, And leave you hindmost ;Or, like a gallant horse fallen 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 the hand;

And with his arms out-stretch'd, as he would fly,
Grasps-in the comer: 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 calumpiating 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.

LOVE SHOOK OFF BY A SOLDIER.

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 air.

THERSITES MIMICKING AJAX.
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, he 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 bis 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 fint, which will not show without

* New-fashion’d toys.

K K

knocking. The man's undone for ever; for if Hector break not his neck i’ the combat, he'll break it himself in vain-glory. He knows not me: I said, Goodmorrow, Ajax; and be replies, Thanks, Agamemnon. What think you of this man, that takes me for the general? He is 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, Thersites.

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

Achil. To him, Patroclus: Tell him,-I humbly desire the valiant Ajax, to invite the most valorous Hector to come unarmed to my tent; and to procure safe conduct for his person, of the magnanimous, and most illustrious, six-or-seven-times-honoured captain-general of the Grecian army, Agamemnon, Do this.

Patr. Jove bless great Ajax. Ther. Humph! Patr. I come from the worthy Achilles, Ther. Ha! Patr. Who most humbly desires you to invite Hector to his tent!

Ther. Humph!

Patr. And to procure safe conduct from Agamemnon.

Ther. Agamemnon?
Patr: Ay, my lord.
Ther. Ha!
Patr. What say you to't?
T'her. God be wi' you, with all my heart.
Patr. Your answer, sir.

Ther. If to-morrow be a fair day, by eleven o'clock it will go one way or other; howsoever, he shall pay for me ere he has me.

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