I will buy nine sparrows for a penny, and his pia mater is not worth the ninth part of a sparTOW. This lord, Achilles, Ajax,-who wears his wit in his belly, and his guts in his head,I'll tell you what I say of him.

Achil. What?

Achil. I know not, it is put to lottery; otherHe knew his man.

[wise, [ereunt.

Ther. I say, this Ajax—— Achil. Nay, good Ajax.

Ther. Hast not so much wit-
Achil. Nay, I must hold you.

Ther. As will stop the eye of Helen's needle, for whom he comes to fight.

Ajar. Well, go to, go to.
Ther. I serve here voluntary.

Achil. Your last service was sufferance, 'twas not voluntary; no man is beaten voluntary: Ajax was here the voluntary, and you as under an impress.

Ther. Even so?—a great deal of your wit too lies in your sinews, or else there be liars.-Hector shall have a great catch, if he knock out either of your brains; 'a were as good crack a fusty nut with no kernel.

Achil. What, with me too, Thersites ? Ther. There's Ulysses, and old Nestor,-whose wit was mouldy ere your grandsires had nails on their toes,-yoke you like draught oxen, and make you plough up the wars.

Achil. What, what?

Ther. Yes, good sooth; to, Achilles! to, Ajax! to!

Ajax. I shall cut out your tongue.

In hot digestion of this cormorant war,-
Shall be struck off:-Hector, what say you to't?
Hect. Though no man lesser fears the Greeks
than I,

As far as toucheth my particular, yet,
Dread Priam,

There is no lady of more softer bowels,
More spungy to suck in the sense of fear,
More ready to cry out-Who knows what follows?
Than Hector is: the wound of peace is surety,
Surety secure; but modest doubt is call'd
The beacon of the wise, the tent, that searches
To the bottom of the worst. Let Helen go:
Since the first sword was drawn about this
question,

Every tithe soul, 'mong'st many thousand dismes,
Hath been as dear as Helen; I mean, of ours:
If we have lost so many tenths of ours,
To guard a thing not ours; not worth to us
Had it our name, the value of one ten;
What merit's in that reason, which denies
The yielding of her up?

Tro. Fie, fie, my brother!

Weigh you the worth and honour of a king,
So great as our dread father, in a scale
Of common ounces? will you with counters sum
The past-proportion of his infinite?
And buckle in a waist most fathomless,
With spans and inches so diminutive
As fears and reasons? fie, for godly shame!
Hel. No marvel, though you bite so sharp at
Should not our

reasons,

You are so empty of them. father

Patr. No more words, Thersites; peace. Ther. I will hold my peace when Achilles' brach bids me, shall I?

Achil. There's for you, Patroclus.

Ther. I will see you hang'd, like clotpoles, ere I come any more to your tents; I will keep where there is wit stirring, and leave the faction [exit.

of fools.

Patr. A good riddance.
Achil. Marry, this, sir, is proclaim'd through
all our host,

That Hector, by the first hour of the sun,
Will, with a trumpet, 'twixt our tents and Troy,
To-morrow morning, call some knight to arms,
That hath a stomach; and such a one, that dare
Maintain-I know not what; 'tis trash: Fare-
well

Ajar. Farewell. Who shall answer him?

You know, an enemy intends you harm;
You know, a sword, employ'd, is perilous,
And reason flies the object of all harm:
Who marvels then, when Helenus behold
A Grecian and his sword, if he do set
The very wings of reason to his heels;
And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove,
Or like astar disorb'd ?—Nay, if we talk of reason,
Let's shut our gates, and sleep: Manhood and
honour

Should have hare hearts, would they but fat their thoughts

With this cramm'd reason: reason and respect Make livers pale, and lustihood deject.

Of any true decision. Nature craves,
All dues be render'd to their owners; now,
What nearer debt in all humanity,
Than wife is to the husband? if this law
Of nature be corrupted through affection;
And that great minds, of partial indulgence
To their benumbed wills, resist the same;
There is a law in each well-order'd nation
To curb those raging appetites that are
Most disobedient and refractory.
If Helen then be wife to Sparta's king,-
As it is 'known she is,—these moral laws
Of nature, and of nations, speak aloud

To have her back return'd. Thus to persist
In doing wrong, extenuates not wrong,

But makes it much more heavy. Hector's opinion
Is this, in way of truth: yet, ne'ertheless,
My spritely brethren I propend to you
In resolution to keep Helen still;

For 'tis a cause, that hath no mean dependance
Upon our joint and several dignities.

Tro. Why, there you touch'd the life of our
design:

Were it not glory that we more affected
Than the performance of our heaving spleens,
I would not wish a drop of Trojan blood
Spent more in her defence. But, worthy Hector,
She is a theme of honour and renown;
A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds;
Whose present courage may beat down our foes,
And fame, in time to come, canonize us:
For, I presume, brave Hector would not lose
So rich advantage of a promis'd glory,
As smiles upon the forehead of this action,
For the wide world's revenue.

Hect. I am yours,

You valiant offspring of great Priamus.-
I have a roisting challenge sent amongst
The dull and factious nobles of the Greeks,
Will strike amazement to their drowsy spirits:
I was advértis'd, their great general slept,
Whilst emulation in the army crept;
This, I presume, will wake him.
SCENE III. THE GRECIAN CAMP, BEFORE ACHILLES'

TENT.

Enter Thersites.

[exeunt.

Ther. How now, Thersites? what, lost in the labyrinth of thy fury? Shall the elephant Ajax carry it thus? he beats me, and I rail at him: O worthy satisfaction! 'would, it were otherwise; that I could beat him, whilst he railed 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. thou great thunder-darter of Olympus, forget thou art Jove, the king of gods; and, Mercury, lose all the serpentine craft of thy Caduceus; if ye take not that little little less-than little wit from them that they have! which short-armed ignorance itself knows is so abundant scarce, it will not ir circumvention deliver a fly from a spider, without drawing their massy irons, and cutting the web.

rather, the bone-ache! 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? Thersites? Good Thersites, come in and rail.

Ther. If I could have remembered a gilt counterfeit, thou wouldest not have slipped out of any contemplation: but it is no matter; Thyself upon thyself! 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 corse, I'll be sworn and sworn upon't, she never shrouded any but lazars. Amen.-Where's Achilles?

Patr. What, art thou devout? wast thou in prayer?

Ther. Ay; the heavens hear me!
Enter Achilles.

Achil. Who's there?
Patr. Thersites, my lord.

Achil. Where, where ?-Art thou come? Why, my cheese, my digestion, why hast thou not served thyself in to my table so 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 thyself?

Ther. Thy knower, Patroclus: Then tell me, Patroclus, what art thou?

Patr. Thou mayest tell, that knowest.
Achil. O tell, tell.

Ther. I'll decline the whole question. Agamemnon commands Achilles; Achilles is my lord; I am Patroclus' knower; and Patroclus is a fool.

Patr. You rascal!

Ther. Peace, fool; I have not done.

Achil. He is a privileged man.-Proceed, Thersites.

Ther. Agamemnon is a fool; Achilles is a fool; Thersites 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? Ther. Make that demand of the prover.-It suffices me thou art. Look you, who comes here? Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Nestor, Diomedes, and Ajax.

Achil. Patroclus, I'll speak with nobody;come in with me, Thersites. [exit.

Ther. Here is such patchery, such juggling, and such knavery! all the argument is, a cuckold, and a whore; a good quarrel to draw emulous factions, and to bleed to death upon. Now the dry serpigo on the subject! and war, and lechery, confound all! [exit.

Ulyss. We saw him at the opening of his tent; He is not sick.

Ajar. Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart; you may call it melancholy, if you will favour the man; but, by my head, 'tis pride: But why, why? let him show us a cause.-A word, my lord. [takes Agam. aside. Nest. What moves Ajax thus to bay at him? Ulyss. Achilles hath inveigled his fool from that him.

Nest. Who? Thersites ?
Ulyss. He.

Nest. Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost his argument.

Ulyss. No; you see, he is his argument, that has his argument; Achilles.

Nest. All the better; their fraction is more our wish: than their faction, but it was a strong composure, a fool could disunite.

Ulyss. The amity, that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie. Here comes Patroclus. Re-enter Patroclus.

Nest. No Achilles with him.

Ulyss. The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy: his legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure.

Patr. Achilles bids me say he is much sorry, If any thing more than your sport and pleasure Did move your greatness, and this noble state, To call upon him; he hopes, it is no other, But, for your health and your digestion sake, An after-dinner's breath.

Agam. Hear you, Patroclus :

We are too well acquainted with these answers:
But his evasion, wing'd thus swift with scorn,
Cannot outfly our apprehensions.

Much attribute he hath; and much the reason
Why we ascribe it to him: yet all his virtues,—
Not virtuously on his own part beheld,
Do, in our eyes, begin to lose their gloss;
Yea, like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish,
Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell him,
We come to speak with him and you shall not
If you do say we think him over-proud,
And under-honest; in self-assumption greater,
Than in the note of judgment; and worthier than
himself

:

[sin,

Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on;
Disguise the holy strength of their command,
And underwrite in an observing kind
His humorous predominance; yea, watch
His pettish lunes, his ebbs, his flows, as if
The passage and whole carriage of this action
Rode on his tide. Go, tell him this; and add,
That, if he over-hold his price so much,
We'll none of him; but let him, like an engine

Not portable, lie under this report-
Bring action hither, this cannot go to war :
A stirring dwarf we do allowance give
Before a sleeping giant; tell him so.
Patr. I shall; and bring his answer presently.
[exit.
Agam, In second voice we'll not be satisfied.
We come to speak with him.-Ulysses, enter.
[exit Ulysses.

Ajax. What is he more than another?
Agam. 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?
Agam. No question.

Ajax. Will you subscribe his thought, and say -he is?

Agam. 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 pride is.

Agam. Your mind's the 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 itself but in the deed, devours the deed in the praise.

Ajar. I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendering of toads.

Nest. And yet he loves himself: is it not strange? Laside.

Re-enter Ulysses.

Ulyss. Achilles will not to the field to-morrow. Agam. What's his excuse?

Ulyss. He doth rely on none;

But carries on the stream of his dispose,
Without observance or respect of any,
In will peculiar and in self-admission.

Agam. Why will he not, upon our fair request,
Untent his person, and share the air with us?
Ulyss. Things small as nothing, for request's
sake only,
[ness;
He makes important: possess'd he is with great-
And speaks not to himself, but with a pride
That quarrels at self-breath: imagin'd worth
Holds in his blood such swoln and hot discourse,
That, 'twixt his mental and his active parts,
Kingdom'd Achilles in commotion rages,
And batters down himself: what should I say?
He is so plaguy proud, that the death-tokens of it
Cry No recovery.

Agam. Let Ajax go to him.

Dear lord, go you and greet him in his tent :
'Tis said, he holds you well; and will be led,
At your request, a little from himself.

Ulyss. O Agamemnon, let it not be so!
We'll consecrate the steps that Ajax makes
When they go from Achilles: shall the proud lord,
That bastes his arrogance with his own seam;
And never suffers matter of the world
Enter his thoughts,-save such as do revolve
And ruminate himself,-shall he be worshipp'd
Of that we hold an idol more than he?
No, this thrice-worthy and right valiant lord
Must not so stale his palm, nobly acquir'd;
Nor, by my will, assubjugate his merit,