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As they have often giv'n. Here is Ulyses.
I'll interrupt his reading.--Now, Ulstis ?

Ulyf. Now, Thetis' fon!
Achil. What are you reading?

Ulyf. A ftrange 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 upon others
Heat them, and they retort that heat again
To the first giver.

Achil. This is not ftrange, Ulyles.
The beauty that is borne here in the face
The bearer knows not, but commends itself
To others' eyes : ror doth the eye itself
(That most pure spirit of sense) behold itself
Not going from itself; but eyes oppos'd
Salute each other with each others' form.
For speculation turns not to itself,
'Till ‘it hath travell’d, and is marry'd there
Where it may fee its self ; this is not strange,

Ulys. I do not strain at the position,
It is familiar; but the author's drift;
Who, in his circumítance, exprefly proves
That no man is the Lord of any thing,
(Tho’in, and of, him there is much consisting)
Till he communicate his parts to others;
Nor doth he of himself know them for aught,
'Till he behold them form'd in th' applause
Where they're extended; which, like an arch, reverb'rates.
The voice again; or like, a gate of steel
Fronting the Sun, receives and renders back
His figure and his heat. I was much wrapt in this,
And apprehended here immediately
The unknown Ajax-
Heav'ns! what a man is there? a very horse,
That has he knows not what. Nature! what things there are,
Most abject in regard, and dear in 'ufe?
What things again most dear in the cíteem,



in worth ? now shall we see to-morrow
An act, that very Chance doth throw upon him :
Ajax renown'd! Oh heav'ns, what some men do,
While some men leave to do!
How some men creep in skittish Forture's hall,
While others play the ideots in her eyes !
How one man eats into another's pride,
While pride is feasting in his wantonness!
To see these Grecian Lords ! why ev'n already
They clap the lubber Ajax on the shoulder,
As if his foot were on brave Hector's breaft,
And great Troy thrinking.

Achil. This I do believe;
For they pass’d by me, as misers do by beggars,
Neither gave to me good word, nor good look:
What ! are my deeds forgot?

Ulys. Time hath, my Lord, a wallet at his back,
Wherein he puts alms for Oblivion :
(A great siz’d 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 keeps Honour bright :
To have done, is to hang quite out of fathion,
Like ruity inail in monumental mockery.
For honour travels in a fireight so narrow,
Where one but goes abrcati ? keep then the paih ;.
For Emulation hath a thousand fons,
That one by one pursue ; if you give way,
Or tilrn aside from the direct forth-right,
Like to an entred tide, they all rush by,
And leave you hindermoft; and there you lie,
Like to a gallant horse fall’n in first rank,
For pavement to the abject near, o'er-run
And trampled on: Then what they do in present,
Tho' less than yours in pait, muft o’er-top yours.
For time is like a falhionable hoit,
That slightly Makes his parting guest by th' hand ;
But with his arms out-stretch'd, as he would fly,
Grafps in the comer; Welcome ever fmiles,
And Farewel goes out fighing. O, let not virtue feek.


Remuneration for the thing it was :
For beauty, wit, high birth, desert in service,
Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all
To envious and culumniating time.
One touch of nature makes the whole world kin;
That all, with one conicni, praile new-born Gawds,
Tho’ they are made and moulded of things past;
And give to duft, that is a little gilt, (16)
More laud than they will give to gold 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 not stirs. The Cry went once for 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.

Achil. Of my privacy
I have strong reasons.

Ulyj. 'Gainst your privacy
The reasons are more potent and heroical.
'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love
With one of Prian's daughters.

Achil, Ha! known!

Ulyf. Is that a wonder ? The providence, that's in a watchfal State, Knows almost every grain of Pluic's Gold; Finds bottom in th' uncomprehensive Deep; Keeps place with thought; and almost, like the Gods, Does even our thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles.

(16) And go to dusi, that is a little gilt,

More Laud than Gilt o'er-dufted. ] In this mangled Condition do we find this truly fine Observation transmitted, in the old Folio's, Mr. Pope saw it was corrupt, and therefore, as I presuine, threw it out of the Text; because he would not indulge his private Senfe in attempting to make Sense of it. I owe the Foundation of the Amenda ment, which i have given to the Text, to the Sagacity of the ingevious Dr. Tbirlby.


There is a mystery (with which 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 Histor, than Polyzena.
But it must grieve young Pyrrhus now at home,
When Fame shall in his island found her trump;
And all the Greekish girls shall tripping fing,
Great Hector's sister did Achilles win ;
But our great Ajax bravely beat down him.
Farewel, my Lord-1, as your lover, speak;
The fool slides o'er the ice, that you ihould break. [Exit.

Patr. To this effe&t, Achilles, have I mov'd you ;
A woman, impudent and mannith grown,
Is not more loath'd than an effeminate man
In time of act.-) stand condemn’d for this ;
They think, my little stomach to the war,
And your great love to me, reitrains

you thus:
Sweet, rouse yourself; and the weak wanton Cupid
Shall from your neck unloose his am'rous fold;
And, like a dew-drop from the lion's mane,
Be thook to air,

Achil. Shall Ajax fight with Histor!
Patr. Ay, and, perhias, receive much honour by him.

Achil. I fee, my reputation is at stale;
My faine is threwdiy gorld.

Patr. O then beware : Those wounds heal ill, that men do give themselves : Omillion to do what is necessary Seals a Commiilion to a Blank of Danger; And danger, like an ague, subtly taints Even then, when we fit idly in the Sun.

Achil. Go call Therjites hither, sweet Patroclus : F'll send the fool to Ajax, and desire him T'invite the Trojan Lords, after the Combat, To see us here unarm’d : I have a woman's Longing, An appetite that I am fick withal,


To see great Hector in the Weeds of peace ;
To talk with him, and to behold his visage,
Ev’n to my full of view.-A labour sav'd!

Enter Therfites.
Ther. A wonder!
Achil. What?

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

Achil. How fo?

Ther. He must fight fingly to-morrow with Histor, and is so prophetically proud of an heroical cudgeiling, that he raves in faying nothing.

Achil. How can that be?

Ther. Why, he falks up and down like a peacock, a ftride and a ftand ; ruminates like an hoitess, that hath no arithmetick but her brain, to fet down her reckoning; bites his lip with a politick regard, as who should fay, there were wit in his head, if 'twou'd out; and so there is, but it lies as coldly in him as fire in a ilint, which will not shew 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, AgamemWhat think

you of this man, that takes me for the General ? he's grown a very land-fish, language-less, a moniter. A plague of opinion! a man may wear it on both sides, like a leather Jerkin.

Achil. Thou must be my ambassador to him, Therfites.

Ther. Who, I :-why, he'll answer no body; he profeffes 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 Thall see the Pageant of Ajax.

Achil. To him, Patroclus tell him, I humbly defire the valiant Ajax, to invite the most valorous Healer to come unarm’d to my tent, and to procure safe Conduct for his Person of the magnanimous and most illuflrious, fix or seven times honour'd, captain general, of the Grecian army, Agamemnon, &c. Do this.

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