_Ach._ (_aside_). My arm writhes at the touch. _Ul._ There is a hunter, with his game, a lion, Inlaid upon it: and on the other side 1045 Two men that fight to death. _Ach._ ’Tis light in the hand. _Deid._ (_to Ach._). Canst thou imagine any use for this? _Ach._ (_to Deid._). Not when thy father dies? _Ul._ Ladies, have care. For if the sword should wound you, I were blamed. _Ach._ Why, thinkest thou ’tis only bearded men Can wield a sword? The queen of the Amazons Could teach thee something maugre thy white hair. _Ul._ (_aside_). The game hath run into the snare; He is mine. _Ach._ See, Deidamia, here’s my choice; buy this If thou wilt give me something; thou dost like 1055 The ruby; if thou wilt let me give thee that, Thou in return buy me this little sword. _Deid._ Such presents are ill-omened, and ’tis said Will shrewdly cut in twain the love they pledge. _Ach._ But we may make a bond of this divider. _Deid._ Wilt thou in earnest take it for thy choice? _Ach._ If thou wert late in earnest, thou couldst do No better than arm all thy girls with these. The weapon wins the battle, and I think With such advantage women might be feared. (_To Ul._) Old man, I like thy blade; and I will have it. I see ’twould thrust well: tell me if ’tis mettle To give a stroke. Suppose I were thy foe, And standing o’er thee thus to cut thee down Should choose to cleave thy pate. Would this sword do it? 1070 _Ul._ (_aside_). He knows me! [_Pulling off his beard and head-dress and leaping up._ Achilles! _Deid. and Ch._ Help! help! treachery! [_They fly._ _Diomede comes out of bushes where he stands unseen by Achilles._ _Ach._ Beardless—and smooth of face as tongue: In voice Gentle, but sturdy of body: ruddy locks, And restless eye .. Ulysses! _Ul._ Thou hast it. _Ach._ I knew that thou wert here, but looked to meet thee1075 Without disguises, as an honest man. _Ul._ Thou needest a mirror, lady, for thyself. _Ach._ (_suddenly casts off his long robe and appears in shining armour, still holding the sword_). Behold!.... Be thou my mirror! _Ul._ If I be not, ’Tis shame to thee, the cause of my disguise. _Ach._ I own thee not. I knew thee for a prince, But seeing thee so vilely disfigured... _Ul._ Stay! 1081 We both have used disguise: I call for judgment Upon the motive. Mine I donned for valour, And care for thy renown; thine was for fear.