« PreviousContinue »
And make distinct the very breach, whereout
Hect. It would discredit the bless'd gods, proud man,
AM. I tell thee, yea.
Hect. Wert thou an oracle to tell me so, I'd not believe tbee. Henceforth guard thee well; For Til not kill thee there, nor there, nor there; But, by the forge that stithy'd Mars his helm, I'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
Ajas. Do not chafe thee, cousin;—,
And you Achilles, let these threats alone,
Hect. I pray you, let us see you in the field)
Achil. Dost thou entreat me, Hector)
To-morrow, do I meet thee, fell as death;
Hect, Thy hand upon that match.
Agam. First, all you peers of Greece, go to my tent; There in the full convive we: afterwards, As Hector's leisure and your bounties shall Concur together, severally entreat him.— Beat loud the tabourines, let the trumpets blow, That this great soldier may his welcome know.
[Exeunt all but Trail us and Ulysses.
Tro. My lord Ulysses, tell me, I beseech you, In what place of the field doth Calchas keep?
Ul.yss. At Menelaus' tent, most princely Troilus: There Diomed doth feast with him to-night; Who neither looks upon the heaven, nor earth, But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view On the fair Cressid.
Tro. Shall I, sweet lord, be bound to you so much, After we part from Agamemnon's tent, To bring me thither?
Ulytt. You shall command me, sir.
As gentle tell me, of what honour was
Tro. O, sir, to such as boasting show their scars,
[Etemt. ACT V. SCENE I.
The Grecian Camp. Before AchilleJ Tent.
Achil. I'll heat his blood with Greekish wine tonight,
Which with my scimitar I'll cool to-morrow.—
Patr. Here comes Thersites.
Achil. How now, thou core of envy?
"Thou crusty batch of nature, what's the news?
Ther. Why, thou picture of what thou seemest, and idol of idiot-worshippers, here's a letter for thee.
Achil. From whence, fragment?
Ther. Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy.
Patr. Who keeps the tent now?
Ther. The surgeon's box, or the patient's wound.
Patr. Well said, Adversity! and what need these tricks?
Ther. Pr'ythee be silent, boy; I profit not by thy talk; thou art thought to be Achilles' male varlet.
Patr. Male varlet, you rogue! what's that?
Ther. Why, his masculine whore. Now the rotten diseases of the south, the guts-griping, ruptures, catarrhs, loads o'gravel i'the back, lethargies, cold pal* sies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten livers, wheezing lungs, bladders full of imposthume, sciaticas, lime-kilns i'the palm, incurable bone-ach, and the rivell'd fee-simple of the letter, take and take again such preposterous discoveries!'
Patr. Why thou damnable box of envy, thou, what meanest thou to curse thus?
Ther. Do I curse thee?
Patr. Why, no, you ruinous butt; you whore-son indistinguishable cur, no.
Ther. No? why art thou then exasperate, thou idle immaterial skein of sleive silk, thou green sarcenet flap for a sore eye, thou tassel of a prodigal's purse, thou? Ah, how the poor world is pester'd with such •water-flies; diminutives of nature!
Patr. Out, gall!
Ther. Finch egg!
AMI. My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite From my great purpose in to-morrow's battle. Here is a letter from queen Hecuba; A token from her daughter, my fair love; Both taxing me, and gaging me to keep An oath that I have sworn. I will not break it: Fall, Greeks; fail, fame; honour, or go, or stay; My major vow lies here, this 111 obey. Come, come, Thersites, help to trim my tent; This night in banqueting must all be spent.— Away, Patroclus. [Exeunt AchiUes and Patroclus.
Ther. With too much blood, and too little brain, these two may run mad; but if with too much brain, and too little blood, they do, I'll be a curer of mailmen. Here's Agamemnon,—an honest fellow enough, and one that loves quails; but he has not so much brain as ear-wax: *° And the goodly transformation of Jupiter there, his brother, the bull,—the primitive statue, and oblique memorial of cuckolds; a thrifty shooing-11 Tii in a chain, banging at his brother's leg, —to what form, but that he is, should wit larded with malice, and malice forced with wit, rar n him to? To an ass, were nothing; he is both ass and ox: to an ox were nothing; he is both ox and ass. 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 Thersites; for I care not to be the louse of a lazar, so I were not Menelaus.—Hey-day! spirits and fires!