Imatges de pàgina
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Acbil. Thou art too brief. I will the second time,
As I would buy thee, view thee, limb by limb.

Heit. O, like a book of sport thou'lt read me o’er:
But there's more in me than thou understand'ft.
Wiy doft thou so opprefs me with thine eye?

Achil. Tell me, you heav'ns, in which part of his body
Shall I destroy him ? whether there, or there,
That I may give the local wound a name,
And make distinct the very breach, where-out
HeEtor's great spirit flew. Answer me, heav'ns !

Heet. It would discredit the blest Gods, proud man,
To answer such a question : stand again.
Think'st thou to catch my life so pleasantly,
As to prenominate in nice conjecture,
Where thou wilt hit ne dead?

Acbil. I tell thee, yea.

Helt. Wert thou the oracle to tell me fo,
I'd not believe thee: henceforth guard thee well,
For l'll not kill thee there, nor there, nor there ;
But by the forge that stichied Mars his helm,
l'll kill thee every where, yea, o'er and o'er.
You wisest Grecians, pardon me this brag,
His insolence draws folly from my lips ;
But I'll endeavour deeds to match these words,
Or may I never

Ajax. Do not chafe thee, cousin;
And you, Achilles, let these threats alone
'Till 'accident or purpose bring you to't.
You may have ev'ry day enough of HeEtor,
If you have stomach. The general state, I fear,
Can scarce intreat you 3 'to be at odds' with him.

Helt. I pray you, let us see you in the field:
We have had pelting wars since
The Grecians' cause.

Achil. Dost thou intreat me, Hečtor ?
To-morrow do I meet thee, fell as death ;
To-night, all friends.

HET. 3 to be odd

you refus'd

Heat. Thy hand upon that match. Aga. First, all you Peers of Greece, go to my tent, There in the full convive you ; afterwards, As Hector's leisure and your bounties shall Concur together, severally intreat him To taste your bounties : let the trumpets blow; That this great soldier may his welcome know. [Exeunt.

S с E. N E X.

Manent Troilus and Ulysses.
Troi. My Lord Ulysses,' tell me, I beseech you,
In what place of the field doth Calcbas keep?

Ulys. At Menelaus' tent, most princely Troilus ;
There Diomede doth feast with him to-night ;
Who neither looks on heav'n, nor on the earth,
But gives all gaze and bent of am'rous view
On the fair Cresid.

Troi. Shall I, sweet Lord, be bound to thee so much,
After you part from Agamemnon's tent,
To bring me thither ?

Ulyf. You shall command me, Sir.
As gently tell me, of what honour was
This Cressida in Troy ; had she no lover
There, 'chat now wails' her absence ?

Troi. O Sir, to such as boasting shew their scars,
A mock is due. Will you walk

on, my Lord ? She was belov'd, she lov'd: she is, and doth. But still, sweet love is food for fortune's tooth. (Exeunt.

4 that wails

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I

ACHILLES.
L L heat his blood with Greekish wine to-night,

Which with my scimitar l'll cool to-morrow.
Patroclus, let us feast him to the height.
Pat. Here comes Therfites.

Enter Thersites,
Achil. How now, thou core of envy ?
Thou crusty t'botch' of nature, what's the news?

Ther. Why, thou picture of what thou seem'ft, and idol of idiot-worshippers, here's a letter for thee.

Achil. From whence, fragment?
Ther. Why, thou full dith of fool, from Troy.
Pat. Who keeps the tent now?
Ther. The surgeon's box, or the patient's wound. *
Pat. Well said, adversity; and what need these tricks?

Ther. Pr'ythee be filent, boy, I profit not by thy talk; thou art thought to be Achilles's si male-harlot.

Pat. S'Male-harlot, you rogue ? what's that?

Tber. Why, his masculine whore. Now the rotten diseases of the south, guts-griping, ruptures, catarrhs, loads o' gravel i' th' back ; lethargies, cold palsies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten livers, wheezing lungs, bladders full of impofthume, sciatica's, lime-kilns i th' palm, incurable bone-ake, and the rivalld fee-simple of the

tetter, (a) In this answer Therfites only quibbles upon the word Tent. 4 batch . . . old. edit. Theob. emend. Š Male-Varlet. . . . old edit. Thirl. emend.

tetter, take and take again fuch preposterous 6 debaucheries !

Pat. Why, thou damnable box of envy thou, what mean'ft thou to curse thus ?

Tber. Do I curse thee?

Pat. Why, no, you ruinous butt, you whorefon indistinguishable cur.

Ther. No ? why art thou then exasperate, thou idle immaterial skein of ney'd Gilk; thou green farcenet fiap for a sore eye; thou taffel of a prodigal's purse, thou? Ah, how the poor world is peftered with such water. fies, diminutives of nature !

Pat. 7/Nut-gall!
Ther. Finch-egg!

Achil. My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite
From my great purpose in to-morrow's battel :
Here is a letter from Queen Hecuba,
A token from her daughter, my fair love, a
Both taxing me, and gaging me to keep
An oath that I have sworn. I will not break it,
Fall Greek, fail fame ; honour, or go, or stay,
My major vow lyes here ; this I'll obey.
Come, come, Tberstes, help to trim my tent,
This night in banqueting must all be fpent.
Away, Patroclus. [Exeunt Achilles and Patroclus.

Tber. With too much blood, and too little brain, thefe two may run mad : but if with too much brain, and too little blood, they do, I'll be a curer of mad

Here's Agamemnon, an honest fellow enough, and one that loves b quails, but he hath not so much brain as ear-wax; and the goodly transformation of Jupiter there, his brother, the bull, (the primitive statue, and antique' memorial of cuckolds) a thrifty shoeing

horn (a) This is a circumftance taken from the story-book of the three deArullions of Troy

(b) Meaning wanton Women : Quails being of so hot a conftitution that it is a proverb among the French, Chaud comm'une caille. And Des cailles coiffées is an expreffion used by Rabelais. Theob.

6 discoveries 7 Out, gall! 8 oblique

men.

horn in a chain, hanging at his brother's leg ; to what form, but that 9'he is of, should' wit larded with malice, and malice farced with wic turn him?" to an ass were nothing, he is both ass and ox ; to an ox were nothing, he is both ox and als : to be a dog, a mule, a cat, a fitchew, a toad, a lizard, an owl, a puttock, or a herring without a roe, I would not care ; but to be Menelaus, I would conspire against destiny. Ask me not what I would be, if I were not Ther sites ; for I care not to be the lowse of a lazar, so I were not Menelaus. Hey-day, spirits and fires !

SCENE E II. Enter Hector, Troilus, Ajax, Agamemnon, Ulysses,

Nestor, and Diomede, with lights. Aga. We go wrong, we go wrong. Ajax. No, yonder 'tis, there where we see the light. Hext. I trouble you. Ajax. No, not a whit..

Enter Achilles. Ulyf. Here comes himself to guide you. Achil. Welcome, brave Hector, welcome, Princes all.

Aga. So, now, fair Prince of Troy, I bid good-night. Ajax commands the guard to tend on you.

Heft. Thanks and good-night to the Greeks' General.
Men. Good-night, my Lord.
Heef. Good-night, sweet Lord Menelaus.
Ther. Sweet draff sweet, quoth a

sweet sink, sweet sewer.

Achil. Good-night, and welcome, both at once, to those that go or tarry.

Aga. Good-night.

Achil. Old Nestor carries ; you too, Diomede,
Keep HeEtor company an hour or two
Dio. I cannot, Lord, I have important business,

The 9 he is, should I turn him to ?

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