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do beseech you, as in way of taste,

       To give me now a little benefit

       Out of those many regist’red in promise,

       Which you say live to come in my behalf.

       AGAMEMNON.

       What wouldst thou of us, Troyan? Make demand.

       CALCHAS.

       You have a Troyan prisoner call’d Antenor,

       Yesterday took; Troy holds him very dear.

       Oft have you—often have you thanks therefore—

       Desir’d my Cressid in right great exchange,

       Whom Troy hath still denied; but this Antenor,

       I know, is such a wrest in their affairs

       That their negotiations all must slack

       Wanting his manage; and they will almost

       Give us a prince of blood, a son of Priam,

       In change of him. Let him be sent, great Princes,

       And he shall buy my daughter; and her presence

       Shall quite strike off all service I have done

       In most accepted pain.

       AGAMEMNON.

       Let Diomedes bear him,

       And bring us Cressid hither. Calchas shall have

       What he requests of us. Good Diomed,

       Furnish you fairly for this interchange;

       Withal, bring word if Hector will tomorrow

       Be answer’d in his challenge. Ajax is ready.

       DIOMEDES.

       This shall I undertake; and ‘tis a burden

       Which I am proud to bear.

       [Exeunt DIOMEDES and CALCHAS.]

       [ACHILLES and PATROCLUS stand in their tent.]

       ULYSSES.

       Achilles stands i’ th’ entrance of his tent.

       Please it our general pass strangely by him,

       As if he were forgot; and, Princes all,

       Lay negligent and loose regard upon him.

       I will come last. ‘Tis like he’ll question me

       Why such unplausive eyes are bent, why turn’d on him?

       If so, I have derision med’cinable

       To use between your strangeness and his pride,

       Which his own will shall have desire to drink.

       It may do good. Pride hath no other glass

       To show itself but pride; for supple knees

       Feed arrogance and are the proud man’s fees.

       AGAMEMNON.

       We’ll execute your purpose, and put on

       A form of strangeness as we pass along.

       So do each lord; and either greet him not,

       Or else disdainfully, which shall shake him more

       Than if not look’d on. I will lead the way.

       ACHILLES.

       What comes the general to speak with me?

       You know my mind. I’ll fight no more ‘gainst Troy.

       AGAMEMNON.

       What says Achilles? Would he aught with us?

       NESTOR.

       Would you, my lord, aught with the general?

       ACHILLES.

       No.

       NESTOR.

       Nothing, my lord.

       AGAMEMNON.

       The better.

       [Exeunt AGAMEMNON and NESTOR.]

       ACHILLES.

       Good day, good day.

       MENELAUS.

       How do you? How do you?

       [Exit.]

       ACHILLES.

       What, does the cuckold scorn me?

       AJAX.

       How now, Patroclus?

       ACHILLES.

       Good morrow, Ajax.

       AJAX.

       Ha?

       ACHILLES.

       Good morrow.

       AJAX.

       Ay, and good next day too.

       [Exit.]

       ACHILLES.

       What mean these fellows? Know they not Achilles?

       PATROCLUS.

       They pass by strangely. They were us’d to bend,

       To send their smiles before them to Achilles,

       To come as humbly as they us’d 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 declin’d 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, and 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,

       Doth 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

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