« EdellinenJatka »
Neft. Yet he loves himself: Is't not strange?
Ulys. He doth rely on none ;
Aga. Why will he not, upon our fair request,
Ulys. Things small as Nothing, for Requests fake only
Aga. Let Ajax go to him.
Vhr. O, Agamemnon, let it not be fo,
This Lord go to him?. Jupiter forbid,
Net. o this is well, he rubs the Vein of him.
with my armed Fift, I'll pash him o'er the Face.
Aga, o no, you shall not go.
Ajax. And a be proud with me, I'll phese his Pride ; let me go to him.
vlys. Not for the worth that hangs upon our Quarrel,
Ajax. A should not bear it so, a should eat Swords Girst; shall' Pride carry it?
Neft. And 'cwould, you'd carry half.
Ajax. I will knead him, I'll make him supple, he's not yet through warm.
Neft. Force him with Praises, pour in, pour in, his Ambition is dry.
Vlyf. My Lord, you feed too much on this dislike.
Vlys. Why, 'tis this naming of him doth him harm.
Neft. Wherefore should you fo?
Ulys. Know the whole World, he is: as valiant.
Ajax. A whorlon Dog! that shall palter thus with us would he were a Trojan.
Neft. What a Vice were it in Ajax now---
Dio. Or strange, or self-affe&ted.
Ajax. Shall I call you Father?
Vlf. There is no tarrying here, the Hart Achilles
Aga. Go we to Council, let Achilles sleep;
[Excunt. Mufick sounds within.
ACT III. SCENE I.
the Paris ?
Pan. You depend upon him, I mean?
Pan. You depend upon a Noble Gentleman: I must needs praise him.
Ser. The Lord be praised.
Pan, Grace, not so, Friend, Honour and Lordship are my Titles: What Musick is this?
Ser. I do but partly know, Sir; it is Musiçk in parts,
Pan. Friend, we understand not one another: I an tog courtly, and thou art too cunning. At whose request do these Men play?
Ser. That's to’c indeed, Sir ; marry, Sir, at the request of Paris, my Lord, who's there in Person ; with him the mortal Venus, the Heart-blood of Beauty, Love's invisible Soul,
Pan. Whi, my Cousin Cressida??
Ser. No, Sir, Helen; could you not find out that by her Attributes?
Pan. It should seem, Fellow, that thou hast not seen the Lady Cressida. I come to speak with Paris from the Prince Troilus: I will make a complemental Assault upon him, for my Business seethes. Ser. Sodden Business, there's a stew'd Phrase indeed.
Enter Paris and Helen. Pan. Fair be to you, my Lord, and to all this fair Company : Fair desires in all fair measure fairly guide them, especially to you, fair Queen, fair Thoughts be your fair Pillow.
Helen. Diar Lord, you are full of fair Words.
Pan. You speak your fair pleasure, sweet Queen: fair Prince, here is good broken Musick.
Par. You have broken it, Cousin; and by my Life you fhall make it whole again, you shall piece it out with a peice of your performance. Nel, he is full of Harmony,
Pan. Truly, Lady, no,
Pan. I have Bufiness to my Lord, dear Queen; my Lord, will you vouchsafe me a Word?
Helen. Nay, this shall not hedge us out, we'll hear you fing certainly.
Pan. Well, sweet Queen, you are pleasant with me; but, marry thus, my Lord, my dear Lord, and most esteemed Friend, your Brother Troilus
Helen. My Lord Pandarus, hony-sweet Lord,
Pan. Go to, sweet Queen, go to
Helen. You shall not bob us out of our melody:
Pan. Sweet Queen, sweet Queer, that's a sweet Queen, l'faith
Helen. And to make a sweet Lady fad, is a lower Offence, Nay, that shall not serve your turn, that shall it not in truth la. Nay, I care not for such Words, no, no
Pan. And, my Lord, he desires you, that if the King call for him at Supper, you will make his excuse.
Helen. My Lord Pandarusa
Pan. What says my sweet Queen, my yery, very sweet Queen? Par. What Exploit's in hand, where sups he to Night? Helen. Nay, but my Lord. Pan. What says my sweet Queen? my Cousin will fall out Helen. You must not know where he sups. Par. With my disposer Cressida.
Pan. No, no, no fuch matter, you are wide, come, your disposer is sick. Rar. Well, I'll make excuse.