And we were better parch in Afric fun, No, make a lott'ry; And by device let blockish Ajax draw The fort to fight with Hector: 'mong ourselves, That we have better men. But, hit or miss, To Agamemnon; go we to him straight; Two curs fhall tame each other; pride alone ACT II. S CEN. EI. The Grecian camp. Enter Ajax and Therfites. Ajax. Herfites, Ther. Agamemnon-how if he had boils full, all over, generally. Ajax. Therfites. [Talking to himself. Ther. And thofe boils did run- fay fo―did not the General run? were not that a botchy core ? Ajax. Dog! Ther. Then there would come fome matter from him: I fee none now. Ajax. Thou bitch-wolf's fon, canft thou not hear? feel then. [Strikes him. Ther. The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel. beef witted Lord! Ajax. Speak then, thou windieft leaven, fpeak; 1 will beat thee into handsomeness. Ther. I fhall fooner rail thee into wit and holiness; but I think thy horfe will fooner con an oration, than thou learn a prayer without a book: thou caust strike, can't thou? a red murrain o' thy jace's tricks ! Ajax. Toads-ficol, learn me the proclamation. Ther. Doft thou think I have no fenfe, thou ftrik't me thus ? Ajax. The proclamation. Ther. Thou art proclaim'd a fool, I think. Ajax. Do not, porcupine, do not; my fingers itch. Ther. I would thou didit itch from head to foot, and I had the fcratching of thee; I would make thee the lothfom'ft fcab in Greece. Ajax. I fay, the proclamation Ther. Thou grumbleft and raileft every hour on Achilles, and thou art as full of envy at his greatness, as Cerberus is at Proferpina's beauty: ay, that thou bark't at him. Ajax. Miftrefs Therfites! Ther. Thou fhould't ftrike him. Ajax. Cobloaf ! Ther. He would pound thee into fhivers with his fist, as a failor breaks a bisket. Ajax. You whorefon cur! Ther. Do, do. Ajax. Thou tool for a witch !. [Beating him. Ther. Ay, do, do, thou fodden-witted Lord; thou haft no more brain than I have in my elbows: an Af finego may tutor thee. Thou fcurvy valiant afs! thou art here but to thresh Trojans, and thou art bought and fold among thofe of any wit, like a Barbarian flave. If thou use to beat me, I will begin at thy heel, and tell what thou art by inches, thou thing of no bowels, thou! Ajax. You dog! Ther. You fcurvy Lord! Ajax. You cur! [Beating him. Ther. Mars his ideot ! do, rudeness; do, camel, do, do. SCENE II. Enter Achilles and Patroclus. Achil. Why, how now, Ajax? wherefore do you How now, Therfites? what's the matter, man? [this? Ther. You fee him there, do you? Achil. Ay, what's the matter? Ther. Nay, look upon him. dchil. So I do, what's the matter? Ther. Nay, but regard him well. Achil. Well, why, I do fo. Ther. But yet you look not well upon him: for whofoever you take him to be, he is Ajax, Achil. I know that, fool. Ther. Av, but that fool knows not himself. Ajax. Therefore I beat thee. Ther. Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he ut ters; his evafions have ears thus long. I have bobb'd his brain, more than he has beat my bones: I will buy nine fparrows for a penny, and his pia mater is not worth the ninth part of a fparrow. This Lord (Achilles) Ajax, who wears his wit in his belly, and his guts in his head, I'll tell you what I fay of him. Achil. What? [Ajax offers to ftrike him, Achilles interpofes. Ther. I fay this Ajax Achil. Nay, good Ajax. Ther Has not fo much wit Achil. Nay, I must hold you. Ther. As will flop the eye of Helen's needdle for whom he comes to fight. Achil. Peace, fool! Ther. I would have peace and quietness, but the fool will not he there, that he, look you there. Ajax. O thou damn'd cur, I fhall Achil, Will you fet your wit to a fool's? Ther. No, I warrant you; for a fool's will fhame it. Pat. Good words, Therfites. Achil. What's the quarrel? Ajax I bad the vile owl go learn me the tenor of the proclamation, and he rails upon me. Ther. I ferve thee not. Ajax. We'll, go to, go to. Ther. I farve here voluntary. Achil. Your last service was fufferance, 'twas not voluntary; no man is beaten voluntary; Ajax was here the voluntary, and you as under an imprefs. A Ther. Ev'n fo great deal of your wit too lies in your finews, or elfe there be lyars. Hector shall have a great catch, if he knock out either of your brains; he were as good crack a fusty nut with no kernel. Achil. What, with me too, Therfites? Ther. There's Ulyffes, and old Neitor (whofe wit was mouldy ere your grandfires had nails on their toes), yoke you like draft oxen, and make you plow up the wair. Achil. What! what! Ther. Yes, good footh; to Achilles! to Ajax! toAjax. I fhall cut out your tongue. Ther. 'Tis no matter, 1 fhall speak as much as thou afterwards. Pat. No more words, Ther fites. Ther, I will hold my peace, when Achilles' brach bids me, fhall 1 ? Achil. There's for you, Patroclus. Ther. I will see you hang'd like clodpoles, ere I come any more to your tents. I will keep where there is wit ftirring, and leave the faction of fools. Pat. A good riddance. [Exit. Achil. Marry, this, Sir, is proclaim'd through all our That Hector, by the fifth hour of the fun, [hoft, Will, with a trumpet, 'twixt our tents and Troy, To-morrow morning call fome knight to arms, That hath a ftomach, fuch a one that dare Maintain I know not what: 'tis trafh, farewel. Ajax Farewel! who fhall anfwer him? Achil. I know not. 'tis put to lott'ry; otherwife He knew his man. Ajax. O, meaning you: I'll go learn more of it. [Exeunt. SCENE HI. Changes to Priam's palace in Troy. Enter Priam, Hector, Troilus, Paris, and Helenus. Pri. After fo many hours, lives, fpeeches fpent. Thus once again fays Neftor from the Greeks: (As honour, lofe of time, travel, expence, Wounds, friends, and what elfe dear that is consum'd Shall be ftruck off. Hector, what lay you to't? Hect. Though no man leffer fear the Greeks than I, As far as touches my particular; yet There is no lady of more fofter bowels, More fpungy to fuck in the fense of fear, More ready to cry out, Who knows what follows? Tro. Fie, fie, my brother: Weigh you the worth and honour of a King Of common ounces? will you with counters fum And buckle in a waste most fathomless, With spans and inches fo diminutive As fears and reafons! fie for godly shame! Hel. No marvel though you bite fo fharp at reafons, 1 |