Ah, Sir, there's many a Greek and Trojan dead,
Since firit I faw yourself and Diomede

In lion, on your Greekish embaffy.

Ulyff. Sir, I foretold you then what would enfue; My prophefy is but half his journey yet ;

For yonder walls, that pertly front your town, Yond towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds, Muft kifs their own feet.

Hect. I must not believe you:

There they stand yet; and, modeftly I think,
The fall of every Phrygian ftone will cost
A drop of Grecian blood. The end crowns alN;
And that old common arbitrator, Time,
Will one day end it.

Uly. So to him we leave it?

Most gentle and most valiant Hector, welcome;
After the General, I befeech you next

To feaft with me, and fee me at my tent.

}

Achil. I fall foreftal thee, Lord Ulyffes;-thou! Now, Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee; I have with exact view perus'd thee, Hector, And quoted joint by joint. I'

Hect. Is this Achilles?

Achil. I am Achilles...

Hect. Stand fair, I pr'ythee. Let ine look on thee.
Achil. Behold thy fill.

Hect. Nay, I have done already.

Achil. Thou art too brief. I will the fecond time, As I would buy thee, view thee limb by limb.

Hett. O, like a book of sport thou'll read me o'er : But there's more in. me than thou understand'st. Why doft thou fo opprefs me with thine eye?

Achil Tell me, you Heav'ns, in which part of his Shall I deftroy him; whether there, or there, [body. That I may give the local wound a name; And make diftinct the very breach, whereout Hector's great fpirit flew. Anfwer me, Heav'ns! Hect. It would difcredit the blefs'd gods, proud To answer fuch a question. Stand again: Think't thou to catch my life fo pleafantly, As to prenominate, in nice conjecture, Where thou wilt hit me dead?..

[man,

Achil. I tell thee, yea.

Hect. Wert thou the oracle to tell me fo,'
I'd not believe thee. Henceforth guard thee well,
For I'll not kill thee there, nor there, nor there;
But by the forge that ftithied Mars his helm,
I'll kill thee every where, yea, o'er and o'er.
You wifeft Grecians, pardon me this brag;
His infolence draws folly from my lips;

But I'll endeavour deeds to match these words,
Or may I never-

Ajax. Do not chafe thee, coufin; And you, Achilles, let thefe threats alone, 'Till accident or purpose bring you to't. You may have ev'ry day enough of Hector, If you have ftomach. The general flate, I fear, Can fcarce intreat you to be odd with him.

Hect. I pray you let us fee you in the fields: 1 We have had pelting wars fince you refus'd The Grecians' caufe.

Achil. Doft thou intreat me, Hector? To-morrow do I meet thee fell as death; To-night, all friends.

Hect. Thy hand upon that match.

Agam. First, all you peers of Greece go to my

tent,

There in the full convive we; afterwards,
As Hector's leifure and your bounties fhall
Concur together, feverally intreat him.

Beat loud the tabourins; let the trumpets blow,
That this great foldier may his welcome know.
[Exeunt.

Manent Troilus and Ulyffes.

Troi. My Lord, Ulyffes, tell me, I beseech you, "In what place of the field doth Calchas keep? Uly. At Menelaus' tent, moft princely Troilus; There Diomede doth feast with him to-night; Who neither looks on heav'n, nor on the earth, But gives all gaze and bent of am'rous view On the fair Crellid.

Troi. Shall I, fweet Lord, be bound to thee fo

After you part from Agamemnon's tent,

To bring me thither?

Ulyff. You fhall command me, Sir.

As gently tell me of what honour was

[much,.

This Creffida in Troy; had the no lover there,
That wails her abfence?

Troi. O Sir, to fuch as boafting fhew their fears,
A mock is due. Will you walk on, my Lord? ·
She was belov'd, fhe lov'd; fhe is, and doth;
But, ftill, fweet love is food for Fortune's tooth.
[Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I.

Before Achilles's Tent in the Grecian Camp.

I'LL

Enter Achilles and Patroclus.

Achilles.

'LL heat his blood with Greekifh wine to-night, Which with my fcimitar I'll cool to-morrow. Patroclus, let us feaft him to the height.

Patr. Here comes Therfites.

Enter Therfites.

Achil. How now, thou core of envy? Thou crufty batch of nature, what's the news? Ther. Why, thou picture of what thou feem'ft, . and idol of ideot-worfhippers, here's a letter for

thee.

Achil. From whence, fragment?

Ther. Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy.
Patr. Who keeps the tent now?

Ther. The furgeon's box, or the patient's wound.
Patr. Well faid, adverfity; and what need these
tricks?

Ther. Pr'ythee be filent, boy, I profit not by thy talk. Thou art thought to be Achilles' male-varlet Patr. Male-varlet, you rogue, what's that?

Ther. Why, his masculine whore. Now the rot-. ten difeafes of the fouth, guts-griping, ruptures, catarrhs, loads o' gravel i' th' back, letharges, colds palfies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten livers, wheezing lungs, bladders full of impofthume, feiatica's, lime-kilns i' th' palin, incurable bone-ache, and the rivell'd fee fimple of the tetter, take and take again fuch. prepofterous difcoveries.

Patr. Why, thou damnable box of envy, thou, what meanest thou to curfe thus?

Ther. Do I curfe thee?

Patr. Why, no, you ruinous butt, you whorefon indiftinguishable cur.

Ther. No? why art thou then exasperate, thou idle immaterial fkein of fley'd filk †, thou green farcenet flap for a fore eye, thou taffel of a prodigal's purfe, thou. Ah, how the poor world is pester❜d. with fuch water flies, diminutives of nature. Patr. Out, gall!

Ther. Finch-egg !

Achil. My fweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite
From my great purpofe in to-morrow's battle.
Here is a letter from Queen Hecuba,

A token from her daughter, my fair love,
Both taxing me, and gaging me to keep

An oath that I have fworn. I will not break it.
Fall Greeks, fail fame, honour, or go, or stay,
My major vow lyes here, this I'll obey.
Come, come, Therfites, help to trim my tent,
This night in banquetting must all be spent.
Away, Patroclus.
[Exeunt

Ther. With too much blood and too little brain. these two may run mad; but if with too much brain and too little blood, they do, I'll be a curer of madinen. Here's Agamemnon, an honeft fellow enough, and one that loves quails, but he hath not fo much brain as ear-wax; and the goodly transformation of Jupiter there, his brother, the bull, the primitive

+ All the terms used by Therfites of Patroclus, are emblematically expreffive of flexibility, compliance, and. mean officiouinefs. Johnson.

ftame, and oblique memorial of cuckolds; a thrifty fhooing-horn in a chain, hanging at his brother's leg; to what form but that he is, fhould wit larded with malice, and malice forced with wit*, turn him? To an afs were nothing, he is both afs and ox. To an ox were nothing, he is both ox and afs. To be a dog, a mule, a cat, a fitchew, a toad, a lizzard, an owl, a puttock, or a herring without a roe, I would not care; but to be a Menelaus-I would confpire against Destiny. Afk me not what I would be, if I were not Therfites; for I care not to be the loufe of a lazar, fo I were not Menelaus. Hey-day, fpirits and fires!

Enter Hector, Troilus, Ajax, Agamemnon, Ulyffes, Neftor, and Diomedes, with lights.

Agam. We go wrong, we go wrong.

Ajax. No, yonder 'tis; there, where we fee the

light.

Hect. I trouble you.

Ajax. No, not a whit.

Enter Achilles.

Uly. Here comes himself to guide you.

Achil. Welcome, brave Hector. Welcome, princes all.

Agam. So, now fair Prince of Troy, I bid good night.

Ajax commands the guard to tend on you.

Heft. Thanks, and good night to the Greeks' general.

Men. Good night, my Lord.

Heft. Good night, fweet Lord Menelaus.

Ther. Sweet drought. Sweet, quoth-a. Sweet fink. Sweet fewer.

Achil. Good night, and welcome, both at once,

That go or tarry.

[to thofe

Agam. Good night.

i. e. Stuffed with wit.

A term of cookery. Jnfon