Thou pratest overmuch.

TECMESSA.

My lord, I quake.

AJAX.

Shut up the tent at once.

TECMESSA.
I do conjure thee.

AJAX.

Small must be thy sense,
If thou dost think to put this heart to school.

* * * * *

_THE RESOLVE_.

Ajax pretends to be softened, and to be going forth only for the
harmless purpose of purification in a running stream, though he is
really going to his death.

LINES 646-692.

AJAX.