Sweet, rouse yourself, and the weak wanton Shall from your neck unloose his amorous fold, And, like a dew-drop from the lion's mane, Achil. Shall Ajax fight with Hector? Patr. Aye, and perhaps receive much honor by him. Achil. I see my reputation is at stake; My fame is shrewdly gored. Patr. O, then, beware; Those wounds heal ill that men do give themselves: Omission to do what is necessary 230 Seals a commission to a blank of danger; And danger, like an ague, subtly taints Even then when we sit idly in the sun. Achil. Go call Thersites hither, sweet Patroclus: I'll send the fool to Ajax, and desire him To invite the Trojan lords after the combat To see us here unarm'd: I have a woman's longing, An appetite that I am sick withal, To see great Hector in his weeds of peace; Enter Thersites. 241. "to my full view"; so in Caxton's History: "The truce during, Hector went on a day unto the tents of the Greekes, and Achilles beheld him gladly, forasmuch as he had never seen him unarmed. And at the request of Achilles, Hector went into his tent; and as they spake together of many things, Achilles said to Hector, I have great pleasure to see thee unarmed, forasmuch as I have never seen thee before."-H. N. H. Ther. A wonder! Achil. What? Ther. Ajax goes up and down the field, asking for himself. Achil. How so? Ther. He must fight singly to-morrow with Hector, and is so prophetically proud of an heroical cudgeling that he raves in saying nothing. Achil. How can that be? 250 Ther. Why, a' stalks up and down like a peacock, a stride and a stand: ruminates like an hostess that hath no arithmetic but her brain to set down her reckoning: bites his lip with a politic regard, as who should say "There were wit in this head, an 'twould out:' and so there is; but it lies as coldly in him as fire in a flint, which will not show without knocking. The man 's undone for ever; for 260 if Hector break not his neck i' the combat, he'll break 't himself in vain-glory. He knows not me: I said 'Good morrow, Ajax;' and he replies Thanks, Agamemnon.' What think you of this man, that takes me for the general? He's grown a very landfish, languageless, a monster. A plague of opinion! a man may wear it on both sides, like a leather jerkin. Achil. Thou must be my ambassador to him, 270 Thersites. Ther. Who, I? why, he'll answer nobody; he professes not answering: speaking is for I beggars; he wears his tongue in 's arms. Achil. To him, Patroclus: tell him I humbly Patr. Jove bless great Ajax! Ther. Hum! Patr. I come from the worthy Achilles,— Patr. Who most humbly desires you to invite 290 Ther. Hum! Patr. And to procure safe-conduct from Aga memnon. Ther. Agamemnon? Patr. Aye, my lord. Ther. Ha! Patr. What say you to 't? Ther. God be wi' you, with all my heart. Ther. If to-morrow be a fair day, by eleven of Patr. Your answer, sir. Ther. Fare you well, with all my heart. 300 Achil. Why, but he is not in this tune, is he? music will be in him when Hector has Achil. Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him Ther. Let me bear another to his horse; for that's the more capable creature. Achil. My mind is troubled like a fountain stirr'd, And I myself see not the bottom of it. [Exeunt Achilles and Patroclus. Ther. Would the fountain of your mind were clear again, that I might water an ass at it! [Exit. ACT FOURTH SCENE I Troy. A street. Enter, at one side, Eneas, and Servant with a torch; at the other, Paris, Deiphobus, Antenor, Diomedes, and others, with torches. Par. See, ho! who is that there? Dei. It is the Lord Æneas. Ene. Is the prince there in person? Had I so good occasion to lie long As you, Prince Paris, nothing but heavenly business Should rob my bed-mate of my company. Dio. That's my mind too. Good morrow, Lord Æneas. Par. A valiant Greek, Æneas,-take his hand,Witness the process of your speech, wherein You told how Diomed a whole week by days Did haunt you in the field. Ene. Health to you, valiant sir, During all question of the gentle truce; Dio. The one and other Diomed embraces. 10 Our bloods are now in calm; and, so long, health; |