Agam. Let Ajax go to him.
Ulys. O Agamemnon, let it not be so.
We'll consecrate the steps that Ajax makes,
When they go from Achilles. Shall that proud man
Be worshipped by a greater than himself,
One, whom we hold our idol?
Shall Ajax go to him? No, Jove forbid,
And say in thunder, go to him, Achilles.
Nest. [Aside.] O, this is well; he rubs him where it itches.
Ajax. If I go to him, with my gauntlet clenched I'll pash him o'er the face.
Agam. O no, you shall not go.
Ajax. An he be proud with me, I'll cure his pride; a paultry insolent fellow!
Nest. How he describes himself![Aside.
Ulys. The crow chides blackness: [Aside.]—Here is a man,—but 'tis before his face, and therefore I am silent.
Nest. Wherefore are you? He is not envious, as Achilles is.
Ulys. Know all the world, he is as valiant.