_Ul._ (_taking_). ’Tis fit, and fairly done. I did not think To go off robbed. The sword is worth the gold. We part in honest dealing. Fare thee well. 1189 _Dio._ (_aside_). Thrashed like a witless cur! (_To Ach._) Farewell, Achilles. An hour hence we will meet thee at the palace. [_Exeunt Ul. and Dio._ _Ach._ In spite of warning taken in a silly trap, By the common plotter! Thus to be known Achilles— To have my wish forced on me against my will Hath rudely cleared my sight. Where lies the gain? The dancing ship on which I sailed is wrecked On an unlovely shore, and I must climb Out of the wreck upon a loveless shore, Saving what best I love. ’Tis so. I see I shall command these men, and in their service Find little solace. I have a harder task 1201 Than chieftainship, and how to wear my arms With as much nature as yon girlish robe: To pass from that to this without reproach Of honour, and beneath my breastplate keep With the high generalship of all the Greeks My tenderest love. ’Tis now to unmask that, And hold uninjured. I’ll make no excuse To the old king but my necessity, And boldly appease him. Here by chance he comes. _Enter hurriedly Lycomedes and Abas._ _Lyc._ Was it not here, they said? 1211 An insolent ruffian: Let me come across him! By heav’n, still here! And armed from head to foot! (_To Ach._) Young man,—as now thou’lt not deny to be— Thou’st done—ay, tho’ thou seem of princely make— Dishonour and offence to me the king In venturing here to parley with the princess In mock disguise, for whatsoever cause, Strangely put on and suddenly cast off, I am amazed to think. I bid thee tell me 1220 What was thy purpose hither. _Ach._ O honoured king, Tho’ I came here disguised I am not he Thou thinkest. _Lyc._ Nay I think not who thou art. All wonders that I have seen are lost in thee. _Ach._ Thou takest me for Ulysses. _Lyc._ Nay, not I. _Ach._ I am Achilles, sire, the son of Thetis. _Lyc._ Achilles! Ah! Thou sayst at least a name That fits thy starlike presence, my rebuke Not knowing who thou wert. But now I see thee I need no witness, and forget my wonder 1230 Wherefore the Argives tarry on the shore And the gods speak thy praise. Welcome then hither, Achilles, son of Thetis; welcome hither! And be I first to honour thee, who was Most blamèd in thine absence. _Ach._ Gracious sire, Thy welcome is all kingly, if it bear Forgiveness of offence.