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And we were better parch in Afric fun,
Than in the pride and salt scorn of his eyes,
Should he 'fcape Hector fair. If he were foil'd,
Why, then we did our main opinion crush
In taint of our best man.

No, make a lott'ry;

And by device let blockish Ajax draw

The fort to fight with Hector: 'mong ourselves,
Give him allowance as the worthier man;
For that will phyfic the great Myrmidon,
Who broils in loud applaufe, and make him fall
His crest, that prouder than blue Iris bends..
If the dull brainless Ajax come fafe off,
We'll dress him up in voices: if he fail,
Yet go we under our opinion ftill,

That we have better men. But, hit or miss,
Our project's life this shape of fense affumes,
Ajax employ'd, plucks down Achilles' plumes,
Neft. Ulyffes, now I relifh thy advice,
And I will give a taste of it forthwith

To Agamemnon; go we to him straight;

Two curs fhall tame each other; pride alone
Must tar the maftiffs on, as 'twere their bone. [Exeunt..

ACT II. S CEN. EI.

The Grecian camp.

Enter Ajax and Therfites.

Ajax. Herfites,

Ther. Agamemnon-how if he had boils

full, all over, generally.

Ajax. Therfites.

[Talking to himself.

Ther. And thofe boils did run- fay fo―did not the General run? were not that a botchy core ?

Ajax. Dog!

Ther. Then there would come fome matter from him: I fee none now.

Ajax. Thou bitch-wolf's fon, canft thou not hear? feel then.

[Strikes him. Ther. The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel. beef witted Lord!

Ajax. Speak then, thou windieft leaven, fpeak; 1 will beat thee into handsomeness.

Ther. I fhall fooner rail thee into wit and holiness; but I think thy horfe will fooner con an oration, than thou learn a prayer without a book: thou caust strike, can't thou? a red murrain o' thy jace's tricks !

Ajax. Toads-ficol, learn me the proclamation. Ther. Doft thou think I have no fenfe, thou ftrik't me thus ?

Ajax. The proclamation.

Ther. Thou art proclaim'd a fool, I think.

Ajax. Do not, porcupine, do not; my fingers itch. Ther. I would thou didit itch from head to foot, and I had the fcratching of thee; I would make thee the lothfom'ft fcab in Greece.

Ajax. I fay, the proclamation

Ther. Thou grumbleft and raileft every hour on Achilles, and thou art as full of envy at his greatness, as Cerberus is at Proferpina's beauty: ay, that thou bark't at him.

Ajax. Miftrefs Therfites!

Ther. Thou fhould't ftrike him.

Ajax. Cobloaf !

Ther. He would pound thee into fhivers with his fist, as a failor breaks a bisket.

Ajax. You whorefon cur!

Ther. Do, do.

Ajax. Thou tool for a witch !.

[Beating him.

Ther. Ay, do, do, thou fodden-witted Lord; thou haft no more brain than I have in my elbows: an Af finego may tutor thee. Thou fcurvy valiant afs! thou art here but to thresh Trojans, and thou art bought and fold among thofe of any wit, like a Barbarian flave. If thou use to beat me, I will begin at thy heel, and tell what thou art by inches, thou thing of no bowels, thou! Ajax. You dog!

Ther. You fcurvy Lord!

Ajax. You cur!

[Beating him.

Ther. Mars his ideot ! do, rudeness; do, camel, do, do.

SCENE

II. Enter Achilles and Patroclus.

Achil. Why, how now, Ajax? wherefore do you How now, Therfites? what's the matter, man? [this? Ther. You fee him there, do you? Achil. Ay, what's the matter? Ther. Nay, look upon him.

dchil. So I do, what's the matter?

Ther. Nay, but regard him well.

Achil. Well, why, I do fo.

Ther. But yet you look not well upon him: for whofoever you take him to be, he is Ajax,

Achil. I know that, fool.

Ther. Av, but that fool knows not himself.

Ajax. Therefore I beat thee.

Ther. Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he ut ters; his evafions have ears thus long. I have bobb'd his brain, more than he has beat my bones: I will buy nine fparrows for a penny, and his pia mater is not worth the ninth part of a fparrow. This Lord (Achilles) Ajax, who wears his wit in his belly, and his guts in his head, I'll tell you what I fay of him.

Achil. What?

[Ajax offers to ftrike him, Achilles interpofes.

Ther. I fay this Ajax

Achil. Nay, good Ajax.

Ther Has not fo much wit

Achil. Nay, I must hold you.

Ther. As will flop the eye of Helen's needdle for

whom he comes to fight.

Achil. Peace, fool!

Ther. I would have peace and quietness, but the fool will not he there, that he, look you there.

Ajax. O thou damn'd cur, I fhall

Achil, Will you fet your wit to a fool's?

Ther. No, I warrant you; for a fool's will fhame it. Pat. Good words, Therfites.

Achil. What's the quarrel?

Ajax I bad the vile owl go learn me the tenor of the proclamation, and he rails upon me.

Ther. I ferve thee not.

Ajax. We'll, go to, go to.

Ther. I farve here voluntary.

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

A

Ther. Ev'n fo great deal of your wit too lies in your finews, or elfe there be lyars. Hector shall have a great catch, if he knock out either of your brains; he were as good crack a fusty nut with no kernel. Achil. What, with me too, Therfites?

Ther. There's Ulyffes, and old Neitor (whofe wit was mouldy ere your grandfires had nails on their toes), yoke you like draft oxen, and make you plow up the

wair.

Achil. What! what!

Ther. Yes, good footh; to Achilles! to Ajax! toAjax. I fhall cut out your tongue.

Ther. 'Tis no matter, 1 fhall speak as much as thou afterwards.

Pat. No more words, Ther fites.

Ther, I will hold my peace, when Achilles' brach bids me, fhall 1 ?

Achil. There's for you, Patroclus.

Ther. I will see you hang'd like clodpoles, ere I come any more to your tents. I will keep where there is wit ftirring, and leave the faction of fools.

Pat. A good riddance.

[Exit.

Achil. Marry, this, Sir, is proclaim'd through all our

That Hector, by the fifth hour of the fun,

[hoft, Will, with a trumpet, 'twixt our tents and Troy, To-morrow morning call fome knight to arms, That hath a ftomach, fuch a one that dare Maintain I know not what: 'tis trafh, farewel. Ajax Farewel! who fhall anfwer him?

Achil. I know not. 'tis put to lott'ry; otherwife He knew his man.

Ajax. O, meaning you: I'll go learn more of it.

[Exeunt.

SCENE HI. Changes to Priam's palace in Troy. Enter Priam, Hector, Troilus, Paris, and Helenus.

Pri. After fo many hours, lives, fpeeches fpent.

Thus once again fays Neftor from the Greeks:
Deliver Helen, and all damage elfe

(As honour, lofe of time, travel, expence,

Wounds, friends, and what elfe dear that is consum'd
In hot digeftion of this cormorant war)

Shall be ftruck off. Hector, what lay you to't?

Hect. Though no man leffer fear the Greeks than I, As far as touches my particular; yet

There is no lady of more fofter bowels,

More fpungy to fuck in the fense of fear,

More ready to cry out, Who knows what follows?
Than Hector is. The wound of peace is furety,
Surety fecure; but modest doubt is call'd
The beacon of the wife; the tent that fearches
To th' bottom of the worst. Let Helen go.
Since the first fword was drawn about this question,
Every tithe foul 'mongst many thousand difmes
Hath been as dear as Helen: I mean, of ours.
If we have loft fo 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 reafon 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 fum
The vaft proportion of his infinite?

And buckle in a waste most fathomless,

With spans and inches fo diminutive

As fears and reafons! fie for godly shame!

Hel. No marvel though you bite fo fharp at reafons,
You are fo empty of them. Should not our father
Bear the great fway of his affairs with reafons;
Because your speech hath none, that tells him fo?
Troi. You are for dreams and flumbers, brother priest,
You fur your gloves with reafons.
Here are your rea-
You know an enemy intends you harm; [fons.
You know a fword employ'd is perilous ;
And reafon flies the object of all harm.
Who marvels then, when Helenus beholds
A Grecian and his fword, if he do fet

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