Have gloz'd, but superficially; not much The reasons, you alledge, do more conduce 'Twixt right and wrong. For pleasure, and revenge, Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice Of any true decision. Nature craves, All dues be render'd to their owners; Now Than wife is to the husband? if this law In doing wrong, extenuates not wrong, But makes it much more heavy. Hector's opinion In resolution to keep Helen still; For 'tis a cause that hath no mean dependance Upon our joint and several dignities. Tro. Why, there you touch'd the life of our de sign: Were it not glory that we more affected Than the performance of our heaving spleens, A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds; Hect. [Exeunt. SCENE III. THE GRECIAN CAMP. BEFORE ACHILLES' TENT. Enter Thersites. Ther. How now, Thersites? what, lost in the labyrinth of thy fury? Shall the elephant Ajax carry it thus? he beats me, and I rail at him: O worthy satisfaction! 'would, it were otherwise; that I could beat him, whilst he rail'd at me: 'Sfoot, I'll learn to conjure and raise devils, but I'll see some issue of my spiteful execrations. Then there's Achilles, a rare engineer. If Troy be not taken till these two undermine it, the walls will stand till they fall of themselves. O thou great thunderdarter of Olympus, forget that thou art Jove the king of gods; and, Mercury, lose all the serpentine craft of thy Caduceus; if ye take not that little little less-than-little wit from them that they have! which short-arm'd ignorance itself knows is so abundant scarce, it will not in circumvention deliver a fly from a spider, without drawing their massy irons, and cutting the web. After this, the vengeance on the whole camp! or, rather, the bone-ache! for that, methinks, is the curse dependant on those that war for a placket. I have said my prayers; and devil, envy, say Amen. What, ho! my lord Achilles! Enter Patroclus. Patr. Who's there? Thersites? Good Thersites, come in and rail. Ther. If I could have remember'd a gilt counter feit, thou would'st'not have slipp'd out of my contemplation: but it is no matter; Thyself upon thyself! The common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in great revenue! heaven bless thee from a tutor, and discipline come not near thee! Let thy blood be thy direction till thy death! then if she, that lays thee out, says-thou art a fair corse, I'll be sworn and sworn upon't, she never shrouded any but lazars. but lazars. Amen. Where's Achilles? 鬼 Patr. What, art thou devout? wast thou in prayer? Ther. Ay; The heavens hear me ! Enter Achilles. Achil. Who's there? Patr. Thersites, my lord.. Achil. Where, where?-Art thou come? Why, my cheese, my digestion, why hast thou not serv'd thyself in to my table so many meals? Come; what's Agamemnon? Ther. Thy commander, Achilles;-Then tell me, Patroclus, what's Achilles? Patr. Thy lord, Thersites; Then tell me, I pray thee, what's thyself? Ther. Thy knower, Patroclus; Then tell me, Patroclus, what art thou? Patr. Thou may'st tell, that know'st. Achil. O, tell, tell. Ther. I'll decline the whole question. Agamemnon commands Achilles; Achilles is my lord; I am Patroclus' knower; and Patroclus is a fool. Patr. You rascal! Ther. Peace, fool; I have not done. Achil. He is a privileg'd man.-Proceed, Thersites. Ther. Agamemnon is a fool; Achilles is a fool; Thersites is a fool; and, as aforesaid, Patroclus is a fool. Achil. Derive this; come. Ther. Agamemnon is a fool to offer to com mand Achilles; Achilles is a fool to be commanded of Agamemnon; Thersites is a fool, to serve such a fool; and Patroclus is a fool positive. Patr. Why am I a fool? Ther. Make that demand of the prover.-It suffices me, thou art. Look you, who comes here? Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Nestor, Diomedes, Achil. Patroclus, I'll speak with nobody:-Come in with me, Thersites. [Exit. Ther. Here is such patchery, such juggling, and such knavery! all the argument is, a cuckold, and a whore; A good quarrel, to draw emulous factions, and bleed to death upon. Now the dry serpigo on the subject! and war, and lechery, confound all! [Exit. Agam. Where is Achilles? Patr. Within his tent; but ill-dispos'd, my lord. Agam. Let it be known to him, that we are here. He shent our messengers; and we lay by Our appertainments, visiting of him: Let him be told so; lest, perchance, he think We dare not move the question of our place, - Or know not what we are. Patr. I shall say so to him. [Exit. Ulyss. We saw him at the opening of his tent; He is not sick. Ajax. Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart: you may call it melancholy, if you will favour the man; |