Of Nature be corrupted through affection, . Why, there you touch'd the life of our design: He£t. I am yours, [Exeunt. SCENE, SCENE, before Achilles's Tent, in the Grecian Camp. Enter Ther sites folus. H H° O W now, Thersites? what, lost in the labyrinth of it thus ? he beats me, and I rail at him: O worthy fatisfaction! 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. Othou great thunderdarter of Olympus, forget that thou art Jove the King of Gods; and, Mercury, lofe 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 massy irons and cutting the web. After this, the vengeance on the whole camp! or rather the boneach, 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 Nipd 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 the, that lays thee out, says thou art a fair coarse, I'll be sworn and sworn upon't, she never Throwded any but Lazars; Amen. but Lazars; Amen. Where's Achilles ? pray thee, Patr. What, art thou devout? walt thou in prayer ? Enter Achilles. Achil. Where, where? art thou come? why, my cheese, my digestion — why hast thou not served thy self up to my table, so many meais? come, what's Agamemnon? Tber. Thy commander, Achilles ; then tell me, Patroclus, what's Achilles ? Patr. Thy lord, Thersites: then tell me, I what's thy self? Ther. Thy knower, Patroclus : then tell me, Patrodlus, what art thou? Patr. Thou may'st tell, that know'st. 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. Peace, fool, I have not done. Achil. He is a privileg'd man. Proceed, Tber sites. Ther. Agamemnon is a fool, Achilles is a fool, Ther sites is a fool, and, as aforesaid, Patroclus is a fool. Acbil. 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 ? Ther. Make that Demand to thy Creator ;—it fuffices me, thou art. Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Nestor, Diomedes, Ajax, and Calchas, Look you, who comes here? Acbil. Patroclus, I'll speak with no body : come in with me, Therfites. [Exit. Ther. Tiber. Here is such patchery, such 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 Serpigo on the subject, and war and lechery confound all! [Exit. Aga. Where is Achilles ? Patr. Within his Tent, but ill dispos’d, my lord. Aga. Let it be known to him that we are here. [Exit. Ulyf. We saw him at the opening of his Tent, He is not fick. Ajax. Yes, lion-sick, sick 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 shew us the cause. A word, my lord. [To Agamemnon. Nejt. What moves Ajax thus to bay at him? Nest. Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost his argument. (22) He fent our Messengers ;] Who sent, in the Name of Accuracy? What! did Achilles send the Messengers, who were sent by Agamemnon ? I make no doubt, but the Poet wrote; He fhent our Messengers ; i.e. rebuked, ill-treated, rated out of his presence. As, in Anthony, Augustus complains of the like Treatment from that Prince ; Did pocket up my Letters, and with Taunts Did gibe my Misives out of Audience. The word bent, disgraced, shamed, (from a guilòs, as some Etymologifts tell us ;) is frequent both in Chaucer and Spenser; and occurrs more than once again in our Author. Clown. Alas, Sir, be patient. What say you, Sir ? I am sent for speaking to you, Twelfth-night. Hamlet. 2 Ulys. Ulys. No, you fee, he is his argument, that has his argument, Abilles. Neft. All the better ; their fraction is more our with than their faction ; but it was a strong counsel, that a fool could difunite. 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 ; His legs are for necessity, not fexure. Patr. Achilles bids me say, he is much sorry, Aga. Hear you, Patroclus ; do say, we think him over-proud, D That |