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Ajax. If I go to him with my armed fift I'll pash him o'er the face.
Aga. O no, you thall not go.
Ajax. An he be proud with me, I'll pheese his pride; let me go to him.
Ulys. Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.
Ajax. He should not bear it so, he should eat swords first: Thall pride carry it?
Neft. An 'twould, you'd carry half.
Ulys. My Lord, you feed too much on this dinike,
Ulys. Why, 'tis this naming of him doth him harm. 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.
Ulys. Know the whole world, he is as valiant.
(13) Ajax. I will kneod bim, I'll make him fuifli, he is not yet through warm.
Neft. Force him with praijis; &c.] The latter part of Ajax's Speech is certainly got out of place, and ought to be assign'd to Neftor, as I have ventur'd to transpose it. Ajax is feeding on his Vanity, and boasting what he'll do to Achilles; he'll pash him o'er the Face, he'll make him eat Swords; he'll knead him, he'll fupple him, &c. Neftor and Ulisės tlily labour to keep him up in this Vein; and to this End Nidor craftily hints, that Ajax is not warm yet, but must be cram'd with more Flattery. 4
Ajax, A whorefon dog! that palters thus with us
Neft. What a vice were it in Ajax now
Ajax, Shall I call you father ?
Ulys. There is no tarrying here; the Hart Achilles
Aga. Go we to Council, let Achilles sleep; Light boats fail swift, though greater hulks draw deep.
lace, in Troy.
PAND ARU S..
follow the young Lord Paris? Serv. Ay, Sir, when he goes
before me. Pan. You do depend upon him, I mean? Serv. Sir, I do depend upon the Lord.
Pan. You do depend upon a noble gentleman : I must needs praise him.
Serv. The Lord be praised !
Serv. I do but partly know, Sir; it is mufick in parts.
Pan. Friend, we understand, not one another: I am too courtly, and thou art too cunning. At whose requeft do these men play?
Serv. That's to’t, indeed, Sir; marry, Sir, at the quest of Paris my Lord, who's there in person ; with him the mortal Venus, the heart-blood of beauty, love's invisible foul.
Pan. Who, my cousin Cressida?
Serv. No, Sir, Helen ; could you not find out that by her attributes ?
Pan. It should feem, fellow, that thou hast not seen the Lady Cressida. I come to speak with Paris from the Prince Troilus : I will make a complimental assault upon him, for my business seethes. Serv. Sodden buliness! there's a stew'd phrase, indeed.
Enter Paris and Helen, attended. Pan. Fair be to you, my Lord, and to all this fair company! fair Desires in all fair measure fairly guide them; especially to you, fair Queen, fair thoughts be your fair pillow!
Helen. Dear Lord, you are full of fair words.
Pan. You speak your fair pleasure, sweet Queen : fair Prince, here is good broken musick.
Par. You have broken it, cousin, and, by my life, you fall make it whole again ; you shall piece it out with a piece of your performance. Nell, he is full of harmony.
Pan. Truly, lady, no.
Pan. I have business to my Lord, dear Queen; my Lord, will you vouchsafe me a word ?
Helen. Nay, this shall not hedge us out; we'll hear you fing, certainly.
Pan. Well, sweet Queen, you are pleasant with me; but, marry thus, my Lord ;- my dear Lord, and most esteemed Friend, your brother Troilus.
Helen. My Lord Pondarus, honey-sweet Lord,
Pan. Go to, sweet Queen, go to Commends himself moit affectionately to you.
Helen. You shall not bob us out of our melody: If you do, our melancholy upon your head !
Pan. Sweet Queen, sweet Queen, that's a sweet Queen, I'faith
Helen. And to make a sweet Lady sad, is a four offence. Nay, that shall not serve your turn, that shall it not in truth, la. Nay, I care not for such words, no, no
Pan. And, my Lord, he desires you, that if the King call for him at supper, you will make his excuse.
Helen. My Lord Pandarus,
Pan. What says my sweet Queen, my very very fweet Queen ?
Par. What exploit's in hand, where sups he to-night? Helen. Nay, but my Lord,
Pan. What says my sweet Queen? my cousin will fall out with you.
Helen. You must not know where he sups.
Pan. No, no, no such matter, you are wide ; come, your disposer is sick.
Par. Well, I'll make excuse.
Pan. Ay, good my Lord; why should you say, Cref fida? no, your poor disposer's sick.
Par. I spy
Pan. You spy, what do you spy? come, give me an inftrument now, sweet Queen,
Helen. Why, this is kindly done.
Pan. My niece is horribly in love with a thing you have, sweet Queen.
Helen. She shall have it, my Lord, if it be not my Lord Paris.
Pan. He? no, she'll none of him, they two are twain.
Helen. Falling in after falling out, may make them three.
Pan. Come, come, I'll hear no more of this. I'll sing you a song now.
Helen. Ay, ay, prythee now ; by my troth, sweet Lord, thou haft a fine fore head.
Pan. Ay, you may, you may
Helen. Let thy song be love: this love will undo us all. Oh, Cupid, Cupid, Cupid ! Pan. Love! .ay, that it shall, i'faith.