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To rowze a Grecian that is true in love.
If any come, Hector fhall honour him:

If none, he'll fay in Troy when he retires,
The Grecian dames are fun-burnt, and not worth
The fplinter of a lance;-even fo much.

Aga. This fhall be told our lovers, Lord Æneas. If none of them have foul in fuch a kind,

We've left them all at home: but we are foldiers;
And may that foldier a meer recreant prove,

That means not, hath not,
If then one is, or hath, or
That one meets Hector; if

or is not in love!
means to be,

none elfe, I'm he.
Neft. Tell him of Neftor; one that was a man
When Hector's grand fire fuckt; he is old now,
But if there be not in our Grecian hoft

One nobleman that hath one spark of fire,
To answer for his love: tell him from me,
I'll hide my filver beard in a gold beaver,
And in my vantbrace put this wither'd brawn,
And meeting him, will tell him, that my Lady
Was fairer than his grandam, and as chafte
As may be in the world: his youth in flood,
I'll pawn this truth with my three drops of blood.
Ene. Now heav'ns forbid fuch fcarcity of youth!
Ulyf. Amen.

Aga. Fair Lord Eneas, let me touch your hand:
To our pavilion fhall I lead you firft:
Achilles fhall have word of this intent,

So fhall each Lord of Greece from tent to tent:
Your felf fhall feaft with us before you go,
And find the welcome of a noble foe.

[Exeunt.

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.

Uly. I have a young conception in my brain,
Be you my time to bring it to fome shape.
Neft. What is't?
Ulyf. This 'tis :

Blunt wedges rive hard knots; the feeded pride
That hath to this maturity blown up

In rank Achilles, muft or now be cropt,
Or, fhedding, breed a nursery of like evil
To over-bulk us all.

Neft. Well, and how now?

Ulf. This challenge that the valiant Hector fends, However it is spread in general name,

Relates in purpose only to Achilles.

Neft. The purpose is perfpicuous even as fubftance, Whofe groffness little characters fum up: And in the publication, make no ftrain, But that Achilles, were his brain as barren As banks of Lybia, (tho', Apollo knows,

'Tis dry enough,) will with great fpeed of judgment,
Ay, with celerity, find Hector's purpose
Pointing on him.

Uly. And wake him to the answer, think you?
Neft. Yes,

It is moft meet; whom may you elfe oppose
That can from Hector bring his honour off,
If not Achilles? though a fportful combat,
Yet in this trial much opinion dwells.
For here the Trojans taste our dear'st repute
With their fin'ft palate: truft to me, Ulyffes,
Our imputation fhall be odly pois'd
In this wild action. For the fuccefs,
Although particular, fhall give a fcantling
Of good or bad unto the general:
And in fuch indexes, although fmall pricks
To their fubfequent volumes, there is feen
The baby figure of the giant-mafs

Of things to come, at large. It is fuppos'd,
He that meets Heftor iffues from our choice;

And

And choice being mutual act of all our fouls,
Makes merit her election; and doth boil
As 'twere from forth us all, a man distill'd
Out of our virtues; who mifcarrying,

What heart from hence receives the conqu'ring part
To feel a ftrong opinion to themselves!
Which entertain'd, limbs are his inftruments,
In no lefs working, than are fwords and bows.
Directive by the limbs.

Ulyf. Give pardon to my speech;

Therefore 'tis fit Achilles meet not Hector.

Let us, like merchants, fhew our fouleft wares,

3

And think perchance they'll fell; if not, why ftill
The luftre of the better, yet to shew,

Shall fhew the better. Do not then confent
That ever Hector and Achilles meet:

For both our honour and our fhame in this

Are dogg'd with two ftrange followers.

Neft. I fee them not with my old eyes: what are they?
Uly. What glory our Achilles fhares from Hector,
Were he not proud, we all fhould fhare with him:
But he already is too infolent;

And we were better parch in Africk Sun
Than in the pride and falt fcorn 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 blockifh Ajax draw

The fort to fight with Hector: 'mong our felves,
Give him allowance as the worthier man,
For that will phyfick the great Myrmidon
Who broils in loud applaufe, and make him fall
His creft, 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,

3 The luftre

Our

Our projects life this fhape of fenfe affumes,
Ajax imploy'd plucks down Achilles' plumes."
Neft. Ulyffes, now I relish thy advice,
And I will give a taste of it forthwith
To Agamemnon; go we to him ftraight;
Two curs fhall tame each other; pride alone ·
Muft tar the maftiffs on, as 'twere their bone. [Exeunt.

2

ACT II. S CEN E 1.

The Grecian Camp.

Enter Ajax and Therfites.

AJAX.

THERSITES!
Ther. Agamemnon-

full, all over generally.

Ajax. Therfites!

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-how if he had biles-
[Talking to himself.

Ther. And thofe biles did run-fay fodid 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 bim. Ther. The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mungrel

beef-witted Lord!

Ajax. Speak then, you'whinnid'ft baven, fpeak, s'or I will beat thee into handfomnefs.

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 book: thou canst ftrike, canst thou? a red murrain o' thy jades tricks!

Ajax.

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Ajax. Toads-ftool! learn me the proclamation.

Ther. Doft thou think I have no fenfe, thou strik'ft 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 didst itch from head to foot, and I had the fcratching of thee; I would make thee the loathfom'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 greatnefs, as Cerberus is at Proferpina's beauty : I, that thou bark'it at him. Ajax. Miftrefs Therfites!

Ther. Thou shouldst strike him.

Ajax. Cobloaf!

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

Ajax. You whorefon cur!

Ther. Do, do.

Ajax. Thou ftool for a witch!

[Beating him.

Ther. Ay, do, thou fodden-witted Lord; thou haft no more brain than I have in my elbows: an Affinego may tutor thee. Thou fcurvy valiant afs, thou art here but to thrash Trojans, and thou art bought and fold among thofe of any wit, like a Barbarian flave. If thou ufe 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.

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Enter Achilles and Patroclus.

Achil. Why, how now, Ajax? wherefore do you this?

How now, Therfites? what's the matter, man?

Ther.

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