As they have often giv'n. Here is Ulyffes. Achil. What are you reading? Writes me, that man, how dearly ever parted, Achil. This is not ftrange, Ulyffes. The beauty that is borne here in the face Salute each other with each others' form. 'Till it hath travell'd, and is marry'd there Nor doth he of himself know them for aught, 'Till he behold them form'd in th' applaufe Where they're extended; which, like an arch, reverb'rates. The voice again; or like, a gate of fteel Fronting the Sun, receives and renders back His figure and his heat. I was much wrapt in this, The unknown Ajax Heav'ns! what a man is there? a very horfe, That has he knows not what. Nature! what things there are, Moft abject in regard, and dear in 'ufe? What things again moft dear in the esteem, And And poor in worth? now fhall we fee to-morrow How fome men creep in skittish Fortune's hall, Achil. This I do believe; For they pafs'd by me, as mifers do by beggars, Uly. Time hath, my Lord, a wallet at his back, (A great fiz'd monfter of ingratitudes). Thofe fcraps are good deeds paft, which are devour'd: As faft as they are made, forgot as foon As done Perfeverance keeps Honour bright: To have done, is to hang quite out of fashion, That one by one purfue; if you give way, That flightly fhakes his parting guest by th' hand; And Farewel goes out fighing. O, let not virtue feek Remu Remuneration for the thing it was: For beauty, wit, high birth, defert in fervice, To envious and calumniating time. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin; Whofe glorious deeds, but in these fields of late, Achil. Of my privacy I have ftrong reafons. Uly. 'Gainft your privacy The reafons are more potent and heroical. 'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love With one of Priam's daughters. Achil. Ha! known! Uly. Is that a wonder? The providence, that's in a watchful State, Keeps place with thought; and almoft, like the Gods, (16) And go to duft, that is a little gilt, More Laud than Gilt o'er-dufted.] In this mangled Condition do we find this truly fine Obfervation tranfmitted, in the old Folio's. Mr. Pope faw it was corrupt, and therefore, as I prefume, threw it out of the Text; because he would not indulge his private Senfe in attempting to make Senfe of it. I owe the Foundation of the Amendment, which I have given to the Text, to the Sagacity of the ingemious Dr. Thirlby. There There is a mystery (with which relation But it must grieve young Pyrrhus now at home, But our great Ajax bravely beat down him. The fool flides o'er the ice, that you should break. [Exit. Is not more loath'd than an effeminate man Achil. Shall Ajax fight with Hector !- Patr. Ay, and, perhaps, receive much honour by him. Achil. Ifee, my reputation is at ftake; My fame is threwdly gor'd. Patr. O then beware: Those wounds heal ill, that men do give themselves: Omiffion to do what is neceffary Seals a Commiffion to a Blank of Danger; And danger, like an ague, fubtly taints Even then, when we fit idly in the Sun. Achil. Go call Therfites hither, fweet Patroclus: I'll fend the fool to Ajax, and defire him To fee us here unarm'd: I have a woman's Longing, To To fee great Hector in the Weeds of peace; Ther. A wonder! Achil. What? Ther. Ajax goes up and down the field, asking for himfelf. Achil. How fo? Ther. He must fight fingly to-morrow with Hector, and is fo prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling, that he raves in faying nothing. Achil. How can that be? Ther. Why, he talks up and down like a peacock, a ftride and a ftand; ruminates like an hoftefs, that hath no arithmetick but her brain, to fet down her reckoning; bites his lip with a politick regard, as who fhould fay, there were wit in his head, if 'twou'd out; and fo there is, but it lies as coldly in him as fire in a flint, which will not fhew without knocking. The man's undone for ever: for if Hector break not his neck i'th' combat, he'll break't himself in vain-glory. 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-fifh, language-lefs, a moniter. A plague of opinion! a man may wear it on both fides, like a leather Jerkin. Achil. Thou must be my ambaffador to him, Therfites. Ther. Who, I-why, he'll anfwer no body; he profeffes not answering; fpeaking is for beggars; he wears his tongue in's arms. I will put on his prefence; let Patroclus make his demands to me, you fhall fee the Pageant of Ajax. Achil. To him, Patroclus- -tell him, I humbly defire the valiant Ajax, to invite the moft valorous Heater to come unarm'd to my tent, and to procure fafe Conduct for his Perfon of the magnanimous and moft illufirious, fix or seven times honour'd, captain general, of the Grecian army, Agamemnon, &c. Do this. Patr. |