Imatges de pàgina
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Achil. Thou art too brief. I will the fecond time, As I would buy thee, view thee, limb by limb. Het. O, like a book of sport thou'lt read me o'er: But there's more in me than thou understand'st. Why doft thou fo opprefs me with thine eye?

Achil. Tell me, you heav'ns, in which part of his body
Shall I deftroy him? whether there, or there,
That I may give the local wound a name,

And make diftinct the very breach, where-out
Hector's great fpirit flew. Anfwer me, heav'ns !.
Hect. It would difcredit the bleft Gods, proud man,
To answer fuch a queftion: ftand again.
Think'ft thou to catch my life fo pleafantly,
As to prenominate in nice conjecture,
Where thou wilt hit me dead?

Achil. I tell thee, yea.

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

Ajax. Do not chafe thee, coufin ;

And you, Achilles, let thefe threats alone
'Till accident or purpose bring you to't.
You may have ev'ry day enough of Hector,
If you have ftomach. The general ftate, I fear,
Can fcarce intreat you to be at odds with him.
Heft. I pray you, let us fee you in the field:
We have had pelting wars fince you refus'd
The Grecians' caufe.

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

3 to be odd

Helt.

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 leifure and your bounties fhall
Concur together, feverally intreat him

To taste your bounties: let the trumpets blow;

That this great foldier may his welcome know. [Exeunt.

S

CEN

E

X.

Manent Troilus and Ulyffes.

Troi. My Lord Ulyffes, tell me, I beseech you,
In what place of the field doth Calchas keep?
Ulyf. 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 Crefid.

Troi. Shall I, fweet Lord, be bound to thee so much, After you part from Agamemnon's tent,

To bring me thither ?

Ulyf. You fhall command me, Sir.
As gently tell me, of what honour was
This Creffida in Troy; had fhe no lover
There, that now wails her absence?

Troi. O Sir, to fuch as boafting fhew their scars,
A mock is due. Will you walk on, my Lord?
She was belov'd, she lov'd: fhe is, and doth.

But ftill, fweet love is food for fortune's tooth. [Exeunt. 4 that wails

ACT

A CT V.

I'

SCENE I.

Before Achilles's Tent in the Grecian Camp.

Enter Achilles and Patroclus.

ACHILLE S.

'L L heat his blood with Greckish wine to-night,
Which with my fcimitar I'll cool to-morrow.
Patroclus, let us feaft him to the height.
Pat. Here comes Therfites.

Enter Therfites.

Achil. How now, thou core of envy? Thou crufty botch of nature, what's the news? Ther. Why, thou picture of what thou feem'ft, and idol of idiot-worshippers, here's a letter for thee.

Achil. From whence, fragment?

Ther. Why, thou full difh of fool, from Troy.
Pat. Who keeps the tent now?

Ther. The furgeon's box, or the patient's wound.a Pat. Well faid, adverfity; and what need these tricks? Ther. Pr'ythee be filent, boy, I profit not by thy talk ; thou art thought to be Achilles's "male-harlot.

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

Ther. Why, his mafculine whore. Now the rotten diseases of the fouth, guts-griping, ruptures, catarrhs, loads o' gravel i' th' back; lethargies, cold palfies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten livers, wheezing lungs, bladders full of impofthume, fciatica's, lime-kilns i' th' palm, incurable bone-ake, and the rivall'd fee-fimple of the tetter,

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

...

tetter, take and take again fuch prepofterous "debaucheries!

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

Ther. Do I curfe thee?

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

Ther. No? why art thou then exafperate, thou idle immaterial skein of fley'd filk; thou green farcenet flap for a fore eye; thou taffel of a prodigal's purfe, thou? Ah, how the poor world is peftered with fuch waterflies, diminutives of nature!

Pat. "Nut-gall!`
Ther. Finch-egg!

Achil. My fweet 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 fworn. 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, Therfites, help to trim my tent,
This night in banqueting muft all be spent.
Away, Patroclus.

[Exeunt Achilles and Patroclus. Ther. 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 madmen. Here's Agamemnon, an honeft fellow enough, and one that loves b quails, but he hath not fo much brain as ear-wax; and the goodly transformation of Jupiter there, his brother, the bull, (the primitive ftatue, and antique memorial of cuckolds) a thrifty fhoeing

horn

(a) This is a circumftance taken from the ftory-book of the three defructions of Troy.

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

6 discoveries 7 Out, gall! 8 oblique

Theob.

horn in a chain, hanging at his brother's leg; to what form, but that he is of, fhould wit larded with malice, and malice farced with wit turn him ? to an afs were nothing, he is both afs and ox; to an ox were nothing, he is both ox and afs: 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 confpire against destiny. Ask me not what I would be, if I were not Therfites; for I care not to be the lowfe of a lazar, fo I were not Menelaus.Hey-day, fpirits and fires!

SCENE
ENE II.

Enter Hector, Troilus, Ajax, Agamemnon, Ulyffes, Neftor, and Diomede, with lights.

Aga. We go wrong, we go wrong.

Ajax. No, yonder 'tis, there where we see the light. Het. 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.

Helt. Thanks and good-night to the Greeks' General. Men. Good-night, my Lord.

He. Good-night, fweet Lord Menelaus.

Ther. Sweet draff

fweet fewer.

fweet, quoth a fweet fink,

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Achil. Good-night, and welcome, both at once, to

thofe that go or tarry.

Aga. Good-night.

Achil. Old Neftor tarries; you too, Diomede,

Keep Hector company an hour or two

Dio. I cannot, Lord, I have important business,

9 he is, fhould

I turn him to ?

The

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