AJAX
Ay, and good next day too.
Exit ACHILLES
What mean these fellows? Know they not Achilles? PATROCLUS
They pass by strangely: they were used to bend To send their smiles before them to Achilles; To come as
humbly as they used to creep To holy altars. ACHILLES
What, am I poor of late? 'Tis certain, greatness, once fall'n out with fortune, Must fall out with men too: what
the declined is He shall as soon read in the eyes of others As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies, Show
not their mealy wings but to the summer, And not a man, for being simply man, Hath any honour, but
honour for those honours That are without him, as place, riches, favour, Prizes of accident as oft as merit: Which
when they fall, as being slippery standers, The love that lean'd on them as slippery too, Do one pluck
down another and together Die in the fall. But 'tis not so with me: Fortune and I are friends: I do enjoy At
ample point all that I did possess, Save these men's looks; who do, methinks, find out Something not worth
in me such rich beholding As they have often given. Here is Ulysses; I'll interrupt his reading. How now
Ulysses! ULYSSES
Now, great Thetis' son! ACHILLES
What are you reading? ULYSSES
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.' ACHILLES
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 opposed Salutes each other with each other's form; For speculation turns not to itself, Till
it hath travell'd and is mirror'd there Where it may see itself. This is not strange at all. ULYSSES
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're extended; who, 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 wrapt 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
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By PanEris
using Melati.
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