To the first giver.
Achill.
This is not strange, Ulysses.
The beauty that is borne here, in the face,
The bearer knows not, but commends itself
To others' eyes: nor doth the eye itself
That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself,
Not going from itself; but eye to eye oppos'd

Salutes each other with each other's form:
For speculation turns not to itself,

Till it hath travell'd, and is married there
Where it may see itself. This is not strange at all.
Ulyss. I do not strain at the position,
It is familiar, but at the author's drift;
Who in his circumstance expressly proves,
That no man is the lord of any thing,

Though in and of him there be 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 the applause

Where they are extended; which, like an arch, reverberates

The voice again; or like a gate of steel

Fronting the sun, receives and renders back

His figure and his heat. I was much rapt in this;
And apprehended here immediately

The unknown Ajax.

Heavens, 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 use:

What things, again, most dear in the esteem,

And poor in worth. Now, shall we see to-morrow,

An act that very chance doth throw upon him,
Ajax renowned. O heavens! what some men do,

5 That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself,] This and the preceding line

are omitted in the folio, but are obviously necessary.

6 strain at the position,] The folio reads "strain it at the position."

While some men leave to do.

How some men creep in skittish fortune's hall,
Whiles others play the idiots in her eyes!
How one man eats into another's pride,
While pride is fasting' in his wantonness!
To see these Grecian lords!-why, even already
They clap the lubber Ajax on the shoulder,
As if his foot were on brave Hector's breast,
And great Troy shrieking.

Achil. I do believe it; for they pass'd by me,
As misers do by beggars, neither gave to me,
Good word, nor look. What! are my deeds forgot?
Ulyss. 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 you give way,
Or edge 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,

7 While pride is FASTING-] The folio has feasting. It may be doubtful which ought to be preferred, the quarto or the folio, and Johnson truly says that "either word may bear a good sense."

* And great Troy shrieking.] So the quartos: the folio shrinking.

• Or EDGE aside-] The quartos have," Or turn aside."

1 O'er-run and trampled on.] This beautiful simile is only found in the

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. 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 calumniating 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 dust3, that is a little gilt,

More laud than gilt 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 eye1,
Than what not stirs. The cry went once on thee,
And still it might, and yet it may again,

If thou would'st 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.

I have strong reasons.

Of this my privacy

Ulyss.

But 'gainst your privacy

folio, but with some corruption; for instance, “abject rear is misprinted "abject near."

2

welcome ever smiles,] The quartos have "the welcome," which is evidently wrong by measure and meaning, but, nevertheless, the error was reprinted in the folio. In the next line the folio reads "O! let not," &c.

3 And GIVE to dust,] 66 "And Igoe to dust" in the old copies, quarto and folio. 4 - SOONER catch the eye,] So the quartos: the folio begin to for "sooner," the compositor having caught the words from the preceding line. In the next line the folio reads out for "once."

The reasons are more potent and heroical. 'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love With one of Priam's daughters.

Achil.

Ulyss. Is that a wonder?

Ha! known?

The providence that's in a watchful state
Knows almost every grain of Plutus' gold',
Finds bottom in th' uncomprehensive deeps,
Keeps place with thought, and almost, like the gods,
Does thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles.
There is a mystery (with whom 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 Hector, than Polyxena:

But it must grieve young Pyrrhus, now at home,
When fame shall in our islands sound her trump,
And all the Greekish girls shall tripping sing,-
"Great Hector's sister did Achilles win,
But our great Ajax bravely beat down him."
Farewell, my lord: I as your lover speak;
The fool slides o'er the ice that you should break".

[Exit.

Patr. To this effect, Achilles, have I mov'd you.
A woman impudent and mannish grown

Is not more loath'd, than an effeminate man
In time of action. I stand condemn'd for this:
They think, my little stomach to the war,

5 · PLUTUS' gold ;] The folio reads " Pluto's gold :" the quartos, instead of this line, have merely, "Knows almost every thing." In the next line they have depth for "deeps." Lower down, the folio has her island for “ our islands." • The fool slides o'er the ice that you should break] In Armin's "Nest of Ninnies,” 1608, is a story of a fool who passed over very weak ice, which the writer states would have broken with the weight of any other person. See the reprint by the Shakespeare Society, p. 38.

VOL. VI.

G

And your great love to me, restrains you thus.
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".

Achil.

Shall Ajax fight with Hector?

Patr. Ay; and, perhaps, receive much honour by

him.

Achil. I see, my reputation is at stake;

My fame is shrewdly gor❜d.

Patr.

O! then beware:

Those wounds heal ill that men do give themselves.
Omission to do what is necessary

Seals a commission to a blank of danger;
And danger, like an ague, subtly taints,
Even then, when we sit idly in the sun.

Achil. Go call Thersites hither, sweet Patroclus.
I'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 sick withal,

To see great Hector in his weeds of peace;
To talk with him, and to behold his visage,

Even to my full of view. A labour sav'd!

Enter THERSITES.

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.

7 Be shook to air.] The folio reads, "Be shook to airy air:" it will be observed, as far as that can be any guide, that the measure is complete in the quarto without the tautological epithet.