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.

Ajax. A whoreson dog, that shall palter thus with us!  Would a were a Trojan!

Ulys. Thank heaven, my lord, you’re of a gentle nature;
Praise him that got you, her that brought you forth;
But he, who taught you first the use of arms,
Let Mars divide eternity in two,
And give him half.  I will not praise your wisdom,
Nestor shall do’t; but, pardon, father Nestor,—­
Were you as green as Ajax, and your brain
Tempered like his, you never should excel him,
But be as Ajax is.

Ajax. Shall I call you father?

Ulys. Ay, my good son.

Diom. Be ruled by him, lord Ajax.

Ulys. There is no staying here; the hart Achilles
Keeps thicket;—­please it our great general,
I shall impart a counsel, which, observed,
May cure the madman’s pride.

Agam. In my own tent our talk will be more private.

Ulys. But nothing without Ajax; He is the soul and substance of my counsels, And I am but his shadow.

Ajax. You shall see
I am not like Achilles. 
Let us confer, and I’ll give counsel too. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

  Enter PANDARUS, TROILUS, and CRESSIDA.

Pand. Come, come, what need you blush?  Shame’s a baby; swear the oaths now to her, that you swore to me:  What, are you gone again? you must be watched ere you are made tame, must you?  Why don’t you speak to her first?—­Come, draw this curtain and let’s see your picture; alas-a-day, how loth you are to offend day-light! [They kiss.] That’s well, that’s well; nay, you shall fight your hearts out ere I part you.  So so—­so so—­

Troil. You have bereft me of all words, fair Cressida.

Pand. Words pay no debts; give her deeds.—­What billing again!  Here’s, in witness whereof the parties interchangeably—­come in, come in, you lose time both.