ULYSSES
What glory our Achilles shares from Hector, Were he not proud, we all should share with him: But he
already is too insolent; And we were better parch in Afric sun Than in the pride and salt scorn of his eyes, Should
he 'scape Hector fair: if he were foil'd, Why then, we did our main opinion crush In taint of our best man.
No, make a lottery; And, by device, let blockish Ajax draw The sort to fight with Hector: among ourselves Give
him allowance for the better man; For that will physic the great Myrmidon Who broils in loud applause,
and make him fall His crest that prouder than blue Iris bends. If the dull brainless Ajax come safe off, We'll
dress him up in voices: if he fail, Yet go we under our opinion still That we have better men. But, hit or
miss, Our project's life this shape of sense assumes: Ajax employ'd plucks down Achilles' plumes. NESTOR
Ulysses, Now I begin to relish thy advice; And I will give a taste of it forthwith To Agamemnon: go we to
him straight. Two curs shall tame each other: pride alone Must tarre the mastiffs on, as 'twere their bone.
Exeunt
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By PanEris
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