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S CE N E V.
The Grecian Camp.
Enter Thersites folus.
ry? shall the elephant Ajax carry it thus? he beats me, and I rail at him: 0 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 thunder-darter of Olympus, forget that thou art Jove the king of gods; and Mercurry lose all the serpentine craft of thy Caduceus, if thou take not that little, little, less than little wit from them that they have; which short-arm'd ignorance it self knows is so abundant scarce, it will not in circumvention deliver a fly from a spider, without drawing the masly irons and cutting the web. After this, the vengeance on the whole camp! or rather the bone-ach, 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? Therfites ? Good Therfites come in and rail.
Ther. If I could have remember'd a gilt counter, thou could'st not have flip'd out of my contemplation, but it is no matter, thy self upon thy self! 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 coarse, I'll be sworn and sworn upon't she never shrowded
any but Lazars; Amen. Where's Achilles ?
Achil. Where, where ? art thou come? why, my cheese, my digestion ---why haft thou not served thy self up to my table, lo 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 thy self?
Ther. Thy knower, Patroclus : then tell me Patroclus, what art thou?
Patr. Thou may'st tell, that knowlt.
Achil. O tell, tell.
Ther. I'll decline the whole question. Agamemnon commands Achilles, Achilles is my lord, I am Patroclus's knower, and Patroclus is a fool.
Patr. You rascal
Ther. Agamemnon is a fool, Achilles is a fool, Therfites is a fool, and, as aforesaid, Patroclus is a fool.
Achil. Derive this; come.
Ther. Agamemnon is a fool to offer to command 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!
Achil. Patroclus, I'll speak with no body: come in with me, Therfites.
[Exit. Ther. Here is fuck patchery, fuch jugling, 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 Şerpiga on the subject, and war and lechery confound all.
Aga. Where is Achilles ?
Aga. Let it be known to him that we are here.
[Exit. Ulys. We saw him at the opening of his tent, He is not sick.
Ajax. Yes, lion-fick, lick of a proud heart: you may call it melancholy, if you will favour the man, but by my head 'tis pride; but why, why? ---- let him fhew us the caufe.
eft. Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost his argument.
Ulys. No, you see he is kis argument, that has his argument, Achilles.
Neft. All the better, their fraction is more odr wish than their faction ; but it was a strong counsel that a fool could disunite.
Ulys. The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untye.
Enter Patroclus. Here comes Patroclus.
Neft. No Achilles with him?
Ulys. The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesie;
Patr. Achilles bids me fay, he is much forry,
Of judgment: say, men worthier than himself
His course and times, his ebbs and flows; as if
Patr. I shall, and bring his answer presently. (Exit.
Aga. In second voice we'll not be satisfied, We come to speak with him. Ulyses, enter.
[Exit Ulyffes. Ajax. What is he more than another? Aga. No more than what he thinks he is.
Ajax. Is he so much? do you not think he thinks himself a better man than I am?
Aga. No question.
Aga. No, noble Ajax, you are as strong, as valiant, as wise, no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether more tractable.
Ajax. Why should a man be proud ? how doth pride grow? I know not what it is.
Aga. Your mind is clearer, Ajax, and your virtues the fairer; he that is proud, eats up himself. Pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle, and whatever praises it self but in the deed, devours the deed in the praise. rii
SCENE His pettis lines.