Ther. Here is such patchery, such juggling and such
knavery! all the argument is a cuckold and a whore; a[1418]
good quarrel to draw emulous factions and bleed to death[1419]
upon. Now, the dry serpigo on the subject! and war and[1420][1421]
lechery confound all! [Exit.[1420] 70
Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Nestor, Diomedes, and Ajax.[1422]
Agam. Where is Achilles?
Patr. Within his tent; but ill-disposed, my lord.
Agam. Let it be known to him that we are here.
He shent our messengers; and we lay by[1423]
Our appertainments, visiting of him:[1424] 75
Let him be told so, lest perchance he think[1425]
We dare not move the question of our place,
Or know not what we are.
Patr. I shall say so to him. [Exit.[1426]
Ulyss. We saw him at the opening of his tent:
He is not sick. 80
Ajax. Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart: you may call[1427]
it melancholy, if you will favour the man; but, by my head,[1428]
'tis pride: but why, why? let him show us the cause. A[1429][1430]
word, my lord. [Takes Agamemnon aside.[1430][1431]
Nest. What moves Ajax thus to bay at him? 85