Ajax. Ay, and good next day too. [Exit Ajax. Achil. What mean these fellows? know they not Achilles? Patr. They pass by strangely: they were us'd to bend, To send their smiles before them to Achilles; Achil. What, am I poor of late? 'Tis certain, Greatness, once fallen out with for tune, Must fall out with men too: What the declin'd is, Hath any honour; but honour for those honours Which when they fall, as being slippery standers, At ample point all that I did possess, Save these men's looks; who do, methinks, find out How now, Ulysses? Ulyss. Now, great Thetis' son? Achil. What are you reading? Ulyss. A strange 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 strange, Ulysses. Till it hath travell'd, and is marry'd there (Though in and of him there be much consisting,) The voice again; or like a gate of steel 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; 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, How some men creep in skittish fortune's hall, Achil. I do believe it: for they pass'd by me, 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: Perséverance, dear my lord, Keeps honour bright: To have done, is to hang In monumental mockery. Take the instant way; For honour travels in a strait so narrow, Where one but goes abreast: keep then the path; That one by one pursue: If you give way, Or, like a gallant horse fallen in first rank, O'er-run and trampled on: Then what they do in present, 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 farewel goes out sighing. O, let not virtue seek Remuneration for the thing it was; For beauty, wit, High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, 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 dust, 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 eye, 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, 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. Ulyss. Of this my privacy But 'gainst your privacy 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 the 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; But it must grieve young Pyrrhus now at home, |