_Ulys._ In imitation of this scurril fool, Ajax is grown self-willed as broad Achilles. He keeps a table too, makes factious feasts, Rails on our state of war, and sets Thersites (A slanderous slave of an o'erflowing gall) To level us with low comparisons. They tax our policy with cowardice, Count wisdom of no moment in the war, In brief, esteem no act, but that of hand; The still and thoughtful parts, which move those hands, With them are but the tasks cut out by fear, To be performed by valour. _Agam._ Let this be granted, and Achilles' horse Is more of use than he; but you, grave pair, Like Time and Wisdom marching hand in hand, Must put a stop to these encroaching ills: To you we leave the care; You, who could show whence the distemper springs, Must vindicate the dignity of kings. [_Exeunt._ SCENE II.--_Troy._ _Enter_ PANDARUS _and_ TROILUS. _Troil._ Why should I fight without the Trojan walls, Who, without fighting, am o'erthrown within? The Trojan who is master of a soul, Let him to battle; Troilus has none. _Pand._ Will this never be at an end with you? _Troil._ The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their strength, Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness wary; But I am weaker than a woman's tears, Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance, And artless as unpractised infancy. _Pand_ Well, I have told you enough of this; for my part I'll not meddle nor make any further in your love; he, that will eat of the roastmeat, must stay for the kindling of the fire. _Troil._ Have I not staid? _Pand._ Ay, the kindling; but you must stay the spitting of the meat. _Troil._ Have I not staid? _Pand._ Ay, the spitting; but there's two words to a bargain; you must stay the roasting too. _Troil._ Still have I staid; and still the farther off. _Pand._ That's but the roasting, but there's more in this word stay; there's the taking off the spit, the making of the sauce, the dishing, the setting on the table, and saying grace; nay, you must stay the cooling too, or you may chance to burn your chaps. _Troil._ At Priam's table pensive do I sit, And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts-- (Can she be said to come, who ne'er was absent!) _Pand._ Well, she's a most ravishing creature; and she looked yesterday most killingly; she had such a stroke with her eyes, she cut to the quick with every glance of them. _Troil._ I was about to tell thee, when my heart Was ready with a sigh to cleave in two, Lest Hector or my father should perceive me, I have, with mighty anguish of my soul, Just at the birth, stifled this still-born sigh, And forced my face into a painful smile.