<SPEECH 1><ACT 1><SCENE 3><14%>
<ULYSSES>	<14%>
	Agamemnon,
	Thou great commander, nerve and bone of Greece,
	Heart of our numbers, soul and only spirit,
	In whom the tempers and the minds of all
	Should be shut up, hear what Ulysses speaks.
	Besides the applause and approbation
	The which, <STAGE DIR>
<To Agamemnon.>
</STAGE DIR> most mighty for thy place and sway,
<STAGE DIR>
<To Nestor.>
</STAGE DIR> And thou most reverend for thy stretch'd-out life,
	I give to both your speeches, which were such
	As Agamemnon and the hand of Greece
	Should hold up high in brass; and such again
	As venerable Nestor, hatch'd in silver,
	Should with a bond of air, strong as the axle-tree
	On which heaven rides, knit all the Greekish ears
	To his experienc'd tongue, yet let it please hoth,
	Thou great, and wise, to hear Ulysses speak.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 2><ACT 1><SCENE 3><14%>
<ULYSSES>	<15%>
	Troy, yet upon his basis, had been down,
	And the great Hector's sword had lack'd a master,
	But for these instances.
	The specialty of rule hath been neglected:
	And look, how many Grecian tents do stand
	Hollow upon this plain, so many hollow factions.
	When that the general is not like the hive
	To whom the foragers shall all repair,
	What honey is expected? Degree being vizarded,
	The unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask.
	The heavens themselves, the planets, and this centre
	Observe degree, priority, and place,
	Insisture, course, proportion, season, form,
	Office, and custom, in all line of order:
	And therefore is the glorious planet Sol
	In noble eminence enthron'd and spher'd
	Amidst the other; whose med'cinable eye
	Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil,
	And posts, like the commandment of a king,
	Sans check, to good and bad: but when the planets
	In evil mixture to disorder wander,
	What plagues, and what portents, what mutiny,
	What raging of the sea, shaking of earth,
	Commotion in the winds, frights, changes, horrors,
	Divert and crack, rend and deracinate
	The unity and married calm of states
	Quite from their fixure! O! when degree is shak'd,
	Which is the ladder to all high designs,
	The enterprise is sick. How could communities,
	Degrees in schools, and brotherhoods in cities,
	Peaceful commerce from dividable shores,
	The primogenitive and due of birth,
	Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels,
	But by degree, stand in authentic place?
	Take but degree away, untune that string,
	And, hark! what discord follows; each thing meets
	In mere oppugnancy: the bounded waters
	Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores,
	And make a sop of all this solid globe:
	Strength should be lord of imbecility,
	And the rude son should strike his father dead:
	Force should be right; or rather, right and wrong
	Between whose endless jar justice resides
	Should lose their names, and so should justice too.
	Then every thing includes itself in power,
	Power into will, will into appetite;
	And appetite, a universal wolf,
	So doubly seconded with will and power,
	Must make perforce a universal prey,
	And last eat up himself. Great Agamemnon,
	This chaos, when degree is suffocate,
	Follows the choking.
	And this neglection of degree it is
	That by a pace goes backward, with a purpose
	It hath to climb. The general's disdain'd
	By him one step below, he by the next,
	That next by him beneath; so every step,
	Exampled by the first pace that is sick
	Of his superior, grows to an envious fever
	Of pale and bloodless emulation:
	And 'tis this fever that keeps Troy on foot,
	Not her own sinews. To end a tale of length,
	Troy in our weakness lives, not in her strength.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 3><ACT 1><SCENE 3><16%>
<ULYSSES>	<17%>
	The great Achilles, whom opinion crowns
	The sinew and the forehand of our host,
	Having his ear full of his airy fame,
	Grows dainty of his worth, and in his tent
	Lies mocking our designs. With him Patroclus
	Upon a lazy bed the livelong day
	Breaks scurril jests,
	And with ridiculous and awkward action
	Which, slanderer, he imitation calls
	He pageants us. Sometime, great Agamemnon,
	Thy topless deputation he puts on
	And, like a strutting player, whose conceit
	Lies in his hamstring, and doth think it rich
	To hear the wooden dialogue and sound
	'Twixt his stretch'd footing and the scaffoldage,
	Such to-be-pitied and o'er-wrested seeming
	He acts thy greatness in:and when he speaks,
	'Tis like a chime a mending; with terms unsquar'd,
	Which, from the tongue of roaring Typhon dropp'd,
	Would seem hyperboles. At this fusty stuff
	The large Achilles, on his press'd bed lolling,
	From his deep chest laughs out a loud applause;
	Cries, 'Excellent! 'tis Agamemnon just.
	Now play me Nestor; hem, and stroke thy beard,
	As he being drest to some oration.'
	That's done;as near as the extremest ends
	Of parallels, like as Vulcan and his wife:
	Yet good Achilles still cries, 'Excellent!
	'Tis Nestor right. Now play him me, Patroclus,
	Arming to answer in a night alarm.'
	And then, forsooth, the faint defects of age
	Must be the scene of mirth; to cough and spit,
	And with a palsy-fumbling on his gorget,
	Shake in and out the rivet: and at this sport
	Sir Valour dies; cries, 'O! enough, Patroclus;
	Or give me ribs of steel; I shall split all
	In pleasure of my spleen.' And in this fashion,
	All our abilities, gifts, natures, shapes,
	Severals and generals of grace exact,
	Achievements, plots, orders, preventions,
	Excitements to the field, or speech for truce,
	Success or loss, what is or is not, serves
	As stuff for these two to make paradoxes.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 4><ACT 1><SCENE 3><17%>
<ULYSSES>	<18%>
	They tax our policy, and call it cowardice;
	Count wisdom as no member of the war;
	Forestall prescience, and esteem no act
	But that of hand: the still and mental parts,
	That do contrive how many hands shall strike,
	When fitness calls them on, and know by measure
	Of their observant toil the enemies' weight,
	Why, this hath not a finger's dignity:
	They call this bed-work, mappery, closet-war;
	So that the ram that batters down the wall,
	For the great swing and rudeness of his poise,
	They place before his hand that made the engine,
	Or those that with the fineness of their souls
	By reason guides his execution.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 5><ACT 1><SCENE 3><20%>
<ULYSSES>	<21%>
	Amen.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 6><ACT 1><SCENE 3><20%>
<ULYSSES>	<21%>
	Nestor!
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 7><ACT 1><SCENE 3><21%>
<ULYSSES>	<21%>
	I have a young conception in my brain;
	Be you my time to bring it to some shape.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 8><ACT 1><SCENE 3><21%>
<ULYSSES>	<21%>
	This 'tis:
	Blunt wedges rive hard knots: the seeded pride
	That hath to this maturity blown up
	In rank Achilles, must or now be cropp'd,
	Or, shedding, breed a nursery of like evil,
	To overbulk us all.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 9><ACT 1><SCENE 3><21%>
<ULYSSES>	<21%>
	This challenge that the gallant Hector sends,
	However it is spread in general name,
	Relates in purpose only to Achilles.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 10><ACT 1><SCENE 3><21%>
<ULYSSES>	<22%>
	And wake him to the answer, think you?
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 11><ACT 1><SCENE 3><22%>
<ULYSSES>	<22%>
	Give pardon to my speech:
	Therefore 'tis meet Achilles meet not Hector.
	Let us like merchants show our foulest wares,
	And think perchance they'll sell; if not,
	The lustre of the better yet to show
	Shall show the better. Do not consent
	That ever Hector and Achilles meet;
	For both our honour and our shame in this
	Are dogg'd with two strange followers.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 12><ACT 1><SCENE 3><22%>
<ULYSSES>	<23%>
	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 as the worthier 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.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 13><ACT 2><SCENE 3><34%>
<ULYSSES>	<35%>
	We saw him at the opening of his tent:
	He is not sick.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 14><ACT 2><SCENE 3><35%>
<ULYSSES>	<36%>
	Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 15><ACT 2><SCENE 3><35%>
<ULYSSES>	<36%>
	He.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 16><ACT 2><SCENE 3><35%>
<ULYSSES>	<36%>
	No; you see, he is his argument that has his argument, Achilles.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 17><ACT 2><SCENE 3><35%>
<ULYSSES>	<36%>
	The amity that wisdom knits not folly may easily untie. Here comes Patroclus.

</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 18><ACT 2><SCENE 3><35%>
<ULYSSES>	<36%>
	The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy: his legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 19><ACT 2><SCENE 3><37%>
<ULYSSES>	<38%>
	Achilles will not to the field to-morrow.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 20><ACT 2><SCENE 3><37%>
<ULYSSES>	<38%>
	He doth rely on none,
	But carries on the stream of his dispose
	Without observance or respect of any,
	In will peculiar and in self-admission.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 21><ACT 2><SCENE 3><37%>
<ULYSSES>	<38%>
	Things small as nothing, for request's sake only,
	He makes important: possess'd he is with greatness,
	And speaks not to himself but with a pride
	That quarrels at self-breath: imagin'd worth
	Holds in his blood such swoln and hot discourse,
	That 'twixt his mental and his active parts
	Kingdom'd Achilles in commotion rages
	And batters down himself: what should I say?
	He is so plaguy proud, that the death-tokens of it
	Cry 'No recovery.'
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 22><ACT 2><SCENE 3><37%>
<ULYSSES>	<38%>
	O Agamemnon! let it not be so.
	We'll consecrate the steps that Ajax makes
	When they go from Achilles: shall the proud lord
	That bastes his arrogance with his own seam,
	And never suffers matter of the world
	Enter his thoughts, save such as do revolve
	And ruminate himself, shall he be worshipp'd
	Of that we hold an idol more than he?
	No, this thrice-worthy and right valiant lord
	Must not so stale his palm, nobly acquir'd;
	Nor, by my will, assubjugate his merit,
	As amply titled as Achilles is,
	By going to Achilles:
	That were to enlard his fat-already pride,
	And add more coals to Cancer when he burns
	With entertaining great Hyperion.
	This lord go to him! Jupiter forbid,
	And say in thunder, 'Achilles go to him.'
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 23><ACT 2><SCENE 3><38%>
<ULYSSES>	<39%>
	Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 24><ACT 2><SCENE 3><38%>
<ULYSSES>	<39%>
<STAGE DIR>
<Aside.>
</STAGE DIR> The raven chides blackness.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 25><ACT 2><SCENE 3><38%>
<ULYSSES>	<39%>
<STAGE DIR>
<Aside.>
</STAGE DIR> Wit would be out of fashion.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 26><ACT 2><SCENE 3><38%>
<ULYSSES>	<39%>
<STAGE DIR>
<Aside.>
</STAGE DIR> A' would have ten shares.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 27><ACT 2><SCENE 3><38%>
<ULYSSES>	<39%>
<STAGE DIR>
<To Agamemnon.>
</STAGE DIR> My lord, you feed too much on this dislike.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 28><ACT 2><SCENE 3><39%>
<ULYSSES>	<40%>
	Why, 'tis this naming of him does him harm.
	Here is a manbut 'tis before his face;
	I will be silent.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 29><ACT 2><SCENE 3><39%>
<ULYSSES>	<40%>
	Know the whole world, he is as valiant.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 30><ACT 2><SCENE 3><39%>
<ULYSSES>	<40%>
	If he were proud,
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 31><ACT 2><SCENE 3><39%>
<ULYSSES>	<40%>
	Ay, or surly borne,
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 32><ACT 2><SCENE 3><39%>
<ULYSSES>	<40%>
	Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet composure;
	Praise him that got thee, her that gave thee suck:
	Fam'd be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature
	Thrice-fam'd, beyond all erudition:
	But he that disciplin'd thy arms to fight,
	Let Mars divide eternity in twain,
	And give him half: and, for thy vigour,
	Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield
	To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom,
	Which, like a bourn, a pale, a shore, confines
	Thy spacious and dilated parts: here's Nestor
	Instructed by the antiquary times,
	He must, he is, he cannot but be wise;
	But pardon, father Nestor, were your days
	As green as Ajax, and your brain so temper'd,
	You should not have the eminence of him,
	But be as Ajax.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 33><ACT 2><SCENE 3><39%>
<ULYSSES>	<40%>
	Ay, my good son.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 34><ACT 2><SCENE 3><39%>
<ULYSSES>	<40%>
	There is no tarrying here; the hart Achilles
	Keeps thicket. Please it our great general
	To call together all his state of war;
	Fresh kings are come to Troy: to-morrow,
	We must with all our main of power stand fast:
	And here's a lord,come knights from east to west,
	And cull their flower, Ajax shall cope the best.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 35><ACT 3><SCENE 3><51%>
<ULYSSES>	<52%>
	Achilles stands in the entrance of his tent:
	Please it our general to 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 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 poor man's fees.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 36><ACT 3><SCENE 3><53%>
<ULYSSES>	<54%>
	Now, great Thetis' son!
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 37><ACT 3><SCENE 3><53%>
<ULYSSES>	<54%>
	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.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 38><ACT 3><SCENE 3><53%>
<ULYSSES>	<54%>
	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 rapt 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 things there are,
	Most abject in regard, and dear in use!
	What things again most dear in the esteem
	And poor in worth! Now shall we see to-morrow,
	An act that very chance doth throw upon him,
	Ajax renown'd. O heavens! what some men do;
	While some men leave to do.
	How some men creep in skittish Fortune's hall,
	Whiles others play the idiots in her eyes!
	How one man eats into another's pride,
	While pride is fasting in his wantonness!
	To see these Grecian lords! why, even already
	They clap the lubber Ajax on the shoulder,
	As if his foot were on brave Hector's breast,
	And great Troy shrinking.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 39><ACT 3><SCENE 3><54%>
<ULYSSES>	<55%>
	Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back,
	Wherein he puts alms for oblivion,
	A great-siz'd monster of ingratitudes:
	Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd
	As fast as they are made, forgot as soon
	As done: perseverance, dear my lord,
	Keeps honour bright: to have done, is to hang
	Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail
	In monumental mockery. Take the instant way;
	For honour travels in a strait so narrow
	Where one but goes abreast: keep, then, the path;
	For emulation hath a thousand sons
	That one by one pursue: if you give way,
	Or hedge aside from the direct forthright,
	Like to an enter'd tide they all rush by
	And leave you hindmost;
	Or, like a gallant horse fall'n in first rank,
	Lie there for pavement to the abject rear,
	O'errun and trampled on: then what they do in present,
	Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours;
	For time is like a fashionable host,
	That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand,
	And with his arms outstretch'd, as he would fly,
	Grasps in the comer: welcome ever smiles,
	And farewell goes out sighing. O! let not virtue seek
	Remuneration for the thing it was;
	For beauty, wit,
	High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service,
	Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all
	To envious and calumniating time.
	One touch of nature makes the whole world kin,
	That all with one consent praise new-born gawds,
	Though they are made and moulded of things past,
	And give to dust that is a little gilt
	More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.
	The present eye praises the present object:
	Then marvel not, thou great and complete man,
	That all the Greeks begin to worship Ajax;
	Since things in motion sooner catch the eye
	Than what not stirs. The cry went once on thee,
	And still it might, and yet it may again,
	If thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive,
	And case thy reputation in thy tent;
	Whose glorious deeds, but in these fields of late,
	Made emulous missions 'mongst the gods themselves,
	And drave great Mars to faction.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 40><ACT 3><SCENE 3><55%>
<ULYSSES>	<56%>
	But 'gainst your privacy
	The reasons are more potent and heroical.
	'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love
	With one of Priam's daughters.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 41><ACT 3><SCENE 3><55%>
<ULYSSES>	<56%>
	Is that a wonder?
	The providence that's in a watchful state
	Knows almost every grain of Plutus' gold,
	Finds bottom in the uncomprehensive deeps,
	Keeps place with thought, and almost, like the gods,
	Does thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles.
	There is a mysterywith whom relation
	Durst never meddlein the soul of state,
	Which hath an operation more divine
	Than breath or pen can give expressure to.
	All the commerce that you have had with Troy
	As perfectly is ours as yours, my lord;
	And better would it fit Achilles much
	To throw down Hector than Polyxena;
	But it must grieve young Pyrrhus now at home,
	When fame shall in our islands sound her trump,
	And all the Greekish girls shall tripping sing,
	'Great Hector's sister did Achilles win,
	But our great Ajax bravely beat down him.'
	Farewell, my lord: I as your lover speak;
	The fool slides o'er the ice that you should break.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 42><ACT 4><SCENE 5><70%>
<ULYSSES>	<71%>
	No trumpet answers.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 43><ACT 4><SCENE 5><70%>
<ULYSSES>	<71%>
	'Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait;
	He rises on the toe: that spirit of his
	In aspiration lifts him from the earth.

</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 44><ACT 4><SCENE 5><70%>
<ULYSSES>	<71%>
	Yet is the kindness but particular;
	'Twere better she were kiss'd in general.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 45><ACT 4><SCENE 5><70%>
<ULYSSES>	<71%>
	O, deadly gall, and theme of all our scorns!
	For which we lose our heads to gild his horns.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 46><ACT 4><SCENE 5><71%>
<ULYSSES>	<72%>
	It were no match, your nail against his horn.
	May I, sweet lady, beg a kiss of you?
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 47><ACT 4><SCENE 5><71%>
<ULYSSES>	<72%>
	I do desire it.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 48><ACT 4><SCENE 5><71%>
<ULYSSES>	<72%>
	Why, then, for Venus' sake, give me a kiss,
	When Helen is a maid again, and his.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 49><ACT 4><SCENE 5><71%>
<ULYSSES>	<72%>
	Never's my day, and then a kiss of you.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 50><ACT 4><SCENE 5><71%>
<ULYSSES>	<72%>
	Fie, fie upon her!
	There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip,
	Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out
	At every joint and motive of her body.
	O! these encounterers, so glib of tongue,
	That give a coasting welcome ere it comes,
	And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts
	To every tickling reader, set them down
	For sluttish spoils of opportunity
	And daughters of the game.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 51><ACT 4><SCENE 5><72%>
<ULYSSES>	<73%>
	They are oppos'd already.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 52><ACT 4><SCENE 5><72%>
<ULYSSES>	<73%>
	The youngest son of Priam, a true knight:
	Not yet mature, yet matchless; firm of word,
	Speaking in deeds and deedless in his tongue;
	Not soon provok'd, nor being provok'd soon calm'd:
	His heart and hand both open and both free;
	For what he has he gives, what thinks he shows;
	Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty,
	Nor dignifies an impure thought with breath.
	Manly as Hector, but more dangerous;
	For Hector, in his blaze of wrath, subscribes
	To tender objects; but he in heat of action
	Is more vindicative than jealous love.
	They call him Troilus, and on him erect
	A second hope, as fairly built as Hector.
	Thus says neas; one that knows the youth
	Even to his inches, and with private soul
	Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 53><ACT 4><SCENE 5><76%>
<ULYSSES>	<77%>
	I wonder now how yonder city stands,
	When we have here her base and pillar by us.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 54><ACT 4><SCENE 5><76%>
<ULYSSES>	<77%>
	Sir, I foretold you then what would ensue:
	My prophecy is but half his journey yet;
	For yonder walls, that pertly front your town,
	Yond towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds,
	Must kiss their own feet.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 55><ACT 4><SCENE 5><76%>
<ULYSSES>	<77%>
	So to him we leave it.
	Most gentle and most valiant Hector, welcome.
	After the general, I beseech you next
	To feast with me and see me at my tent.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 56><ACT 4><SCENE 5><78%>
<ULYSSES>	<79%>
	At Menelaus' tent, most princely Troilus:
	There Diomed doth feast with him to-night;
	Who neither looks upon the heaven nor earth,
	But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view
	On the fair Cressid.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 57><ACT 4><SCENE 5><78%>
<ULYSSES>	<79%>
	You shall command me, sir.
	As gentle tell me, of what honour was
	This Cressida in Troy? Had she no lover there
	That wails her absence?
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 58><ACT 5><SCENE 1><80%>
<ULYSSES>	<81%>
	Here comes himself to guide you.

</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 59><ACT 5><SCENE 1><81%>
<ULYSSES>	<82%>
<STAGE DIR>
<Aside to Troilus.>
</STAGE DIR> Follow his torch; he goes to Calchas' tent.
	I'll keep you company.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 60><ACT 5><SCENE 2><82%>
<ULYSSES>	<83%>
	Stand where the torch may not discover us.

</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 61><ACT 5><SCENE 2><82%>
<ULYSSES>	<83%>
	She will sing any man at first sight.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 62><ACT 5><SCENE 2><82%>
<ULYSSES>	<83%>
	List!
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 63><ACT 5><SCENE 2><83%>
<ULYSSES>	<83%>
	How now, Trojan?
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 64><ACT 5><SCENE 2><83%>
<ULYSSES>	<83%>
	You are mov'd, prince; let us depart, I pray you,
	Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself
	To wrathful terms. This place is dangerous;
	The time right deadly. I beseech you, go.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 65><ACT 5><SCENE 2><83%>
<ULYSSES>	<84%>
	Nay, good my lord, go off:
	You flow to great distraction; come, my lord.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 66><ACT 5><SCENE 2><83%>
<ULYSSES>	<84%>
	You have not patience; come.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 67><ACT 5><SCENE 2><83%>
<ULYSSES>	<84%>
	Why, how now, lord!
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 68><ACT 5><SCENE 2><83%>
<ULYSSES>	<84%>
	You shake, my lord, at something: will you go?
	You will break out.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 69><ACT 5><SCENE 2><83%>
<ULYSSES>	<84%>
	Come, come.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 70><ACT 5><SCENE 2><84%>
<ULYSSES>	<84%>
	You have sworn patience.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 71><ACT 5><SCENE 2><84%>
<ULYSSES>	<84%>
	My lord,
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 72><ACT 5><SCENE 2><86%>
<ULYSSES>	<86%>
	All's done, my lord.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 73><ACT 5><SCENE 2><86%>
<ULYSSES>	<86%>
	Why stay we, then?
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 74><ACT 5><SCENE 2><86%>
<ULYSSES>	<86%>
	I cannot conjure, Trojan.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 75><ACT 5><SCENE 2><86%>
<ULYSSES>	<86%>
	Most sure she was.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 76><ACT 5><SCENE 2><86%>
<ULYSSES>	<86%>
	Nor mine, my lord: Cressid was here but now.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 77><ACT 5><SCENE 2><86%>
<ULYSSES>	<86%>
	What hath she done, prince, that can soil our mothers?
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 78><ACT 5><SCENE 2><87%>
<ULYSSES>	<87%>
	May worthy Troilus be half attach'd
	With that which here his passion doth express?
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 79><ACT 5><SCENE 2><88%>
<ULYSSES>	<88%>
	O! contain yourself;
	Your passion draws ears hither.

</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 80><ACT 5><SCENE 2><88%>
<ULYSSES>	<88%>
	I'll bring you to the gates.
</ULYSSES>

<SPEECH 81><ACT 5><SCENE 5><94%>
<ULYSSES>	<94%>
	O! courage, courage, princes; great Achilles
	Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance:
	Patroclus' wounds have rous'd his drowsy blood,
	Together with his mangled Myrmidons,
	That noseless, handless, hack'd and chipp'd, come to him,
	Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend,
	And foams at mouth, and he is arm'd and at it,
	Roaring for Troilus, who hath done to-day
	Mad and fantastic execution,
	Engaging and redeeming of himself
	With such a careless force and forceless care
	As if that luck, in very spite of cunning,
	Bade him win all.

</ULYSSES>

