« ÎnapoiContinuați »
Before a sleeping giant :-Tell him so.
[Erit. Agam. In second voice we'll not be satisfied, We come to speak with him.-Ulysses, enter.
[Erit Ulysses. Ajar. What is he more than another? · Agam. No more than what he thinks he is.
Ajax. Is he so much? Do you not think, he thinks himself a better man than I am ?
Agam. No question.
Ajax. Will you subscribe his thought, and say—he • is ?
Agam. No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as valiant, as wise, no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether more tractable.
Ajar. Why should a man be proud? How doth pride grow? I know not what pride is.
Agan. Your mind's the clearer, Ajax, and your virtues the fairer. He that is proud, eats up
himself: pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle; and whatever praises itself but in the deed, devours the deed in the praise.
Ajax. I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engen- . dering of toads. Nest. And yet he loves himself: Is it not strange ?
He doth rely on none;
But carries on the stream of his disposé,
Agam. Why will he not, upon our fair request,
Let Ajax go to him,
Ulyss. O, Agamemnon, let it not be so !
As amply titled as Achilles is,
[Aside. Dio. And how his silence drinks up this applause !
[Aside. Ajax. If I go to him, with my arm'd fist I'll pash'
him Over the face.
Agam. O, no, you shall not go.
pride: Let me go to him. Ulyss. Not for the worth that hangs upon our
quarrel. Ajar. A paltry, insolent fellow, Nest.
How he describes Himself!
[Aside. Ajar. Can he not be sociable ? : Ulyss.
The raven Chides blackness.
I will let his humours blood. Agam. He'll be physician, that should be the patient.
8, 9 The sign in the zodiac into which the sun enters June 21. " And Cancer reddens with the solar blaze." THOMSON,
I Strike. 2 Comb or curry.
Ajar. An all men
Nest. An 'twould, you'd carry half. [Aside,
He'd have ten shares.
[Aside. Ajar. I'll knead him, I will make him supple ; Nest. He's not yet thorough warm: forced him
with praises :
Ulyss. Know the whole world, he is as valiant.
you so ?
I would, he were a Trojan!
What a vice
If he were proud ?
Ay, or surly borne ? · Dio. Or strange, or self-affected? Ulyss. Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet
Ajax. Shall I call you father?
Be rul'd by him, lord Ajax.
7 Stream, rivulet.