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My spritely brethren, I propend to you |
In resolution to keep Helen still; |
For 'tis a cause that hath no mean dependence |
Upon our joint and several dignities. |
TROILUS. 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 Troyan 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. |
HECTOR. 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 advertis'd their great general slept, |
Whilst emulation in the army crept. |
This, I presume, will wake him. Exeunt |
ACT II. SCENE 3. |
The Grecian camp. Before the tent of ACHILLES |
Enter THERSITES, solus |
THERSITES. 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 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, 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-arm'd ignorance itself knows is so abundant scarce, |
it will not in circumvention deliver a fly from a spider without |
drawing their massy irons and cutting the web. After this, the |
vengeance on the whole camp! or, rather, the Neapolitan |
bone-ache! for that, methinks, is the curse depending on those |
that war for a placket. I have said my prayers; and devil Envy |
say 'Amen.' What ho! my Lord Achilles! |
Enter PATROCLUS |
PATROCLUS. Who's there? Thersites! Good Thersites, come in and |
rail. |
THERSITES. If I could 'a rememb'red a gilt counterfeit, thou |
wouldst not have slipp'd out of my 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? |
PATROCLUS. What, art thou devout? Wast thou in prayer? |
THERSITES. Ay, the heavens hear me! |
PATROCLUS. Amen. |
Enter ACHILLES |
ACHILLES. Who's there? |
PATROCLUS. Thersites, my lord. |
ACHILLES. Where, where? O, 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? |
THERSITES. Thy commander, Achilles. Then tell me, Patroclus, what's |
Achilles? |
PATROCLUS. Thy lord, Thersites. Then tell me, I pray thee, what's |
Thersites? |
THERSITES. Thy knower, Patroclus. Then tell me, Patroclus, what art |
thou? |
PATROCLUS. Thou must tell that knowest. |
ACHILLES. O, tell, tell, |
THERSITES. I'll decline the whole question. Agamemnon commands |
Achilles; Achilles is my lord; I am Patroclus' knower; and |
Patroclus is a fool. |
PATROCLUS. You rascal! |
THERSITES. Peace, fool! I have not done. |
ACHILLES. He is a privileg'd man. Proceed, Thersites. |
THERSITES. Agamemnon is a fool; Achilles is a fool; Thersites is a |
fool; and, as aforesaid, Patroclus is a fool. |
ACHILLES. Derive this; come. |
THERSITES. 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 this Patroclus is a fool positive. |
PATROCLUS. Why am I a fool? |
THERSITES. Make that demand of the Creator. It suffices me thou |
art. Look you, who comes here? |
ACHILLES. Come, Patroclus, I'll speak with nobody. Come in with me, |
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