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There in the full convive 7 we: afterwards,
[Exeunt all but TROILUS and Ulysses. Tro. My lord Ulysses, tell me, I beseech you, In what place of the field doth Calchas keep?
Ulyss. 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? Ulyss.
You shall command me, sir. As gentle tell me, of what honour was This Cressida in Troy? Had she no ļover there That wails her absence?
Tro. O, sir, to such as boasting show their scars, A mock is due. Will you walk on, my lord ? She was belov'd, she lov’d; she is, and doth : But, still, sweet love is food for fortune's tooth.
SCENE 1. The Grecian Camp. Before Achilles'
Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS.
Achil. I'll heat his blood with Greekish wine to
night, Which with my scimitar I'll cool to-mòrrow. Patroclus, let us feast him to the height.
Patr. Here comes Thersites.
Enter THERSITES. Achil.
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?
Patr. Well said, Adversity !9 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 palsies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten livers, wheezing
lungs, bladders full of imposthume, sciaticas, limekilns i'the palm, incurable bone-ach, and the rivelled fee-simple of the tetter, 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 whoreson 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 pestered with such water-flies ; diminutives of nature !
Patr. Out, gall!
Achil. My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite
[Exeunt ACHILLES 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
I Coarse, unwrought.
madmen. 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 ;3 a thrifty shoeing-horn in a chain, hanging at his brother's leg,--to what form, but that he is, should wit larded with malice, and malice forced 4 with wit, turn him to? To an ass, were nothing : he is both ass and ox: to an ox were nothing; he iş both ox and ass. To be a dog, a mule, a cat, a fitchew,5 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, 6 so I were not Menelaus.--Hey-day! spirits and fires !
Enter Hector, TROILUS, AJAX, AGAMEMNON,
Ulysses, NESTOR, MENELAUS, and DIOMED, with Lights.
Agam. We go wrong, we go wrong.
No, yonder 'tis ; There, where we see the lights.
Here comes himself to guide you.
I trouble you.
Achil. Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, princes
all. Agam. So now, fair prince of Troy, I bid good
night. Ajax commands the guard to tend on you. Hect. Thanks, and good night, to the Greeks'
general. Men. Good night, my lord. Hect.
Good night, sweet Menelaus. Ther. Sweet draught:7 Sweet, quoth 'a! sweet sink, sweet sewer.
Achil. Good night,
[Ereunt AGAMEMNON and Menelaus. Achil. Old Nestor tarries; and you too, Diomed, Keep Hector company an hour or two.
Dio. I cannot, lord; I have important business, The tide whereof is now.-Good night, great Hector. Hect. Give me your
Follow his torch, he goes To Calchas' tent; I'll keep you company.
[Aside to TROILUS. Tro. Sweet sir, you
honour me. Hect.
And so good night. [Exit DromeD; Ulysses and TROILUS