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Ajax. Dog !-...

Ther. Then there would come some matter from him: I see none now.

Ajax. Thou bitch-wolf's son, canst thou not hear? feel then.

[Strikes hine Ther. The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mungrel beef-witted Lord !

Ajax. Speak then, you unwinnow'd' ft (16) leaven, speak; I will beat thee into handfomeness.

Ther. I shall sooner rail thee into wit and holiness; but, I think, thy horse will sooner con an oration than thou learn a prayer without book: thou canst strike, canst thou ? a red murrain o'thy jade's tricks!

Ajax. Toads-stool, learn me the proclamation.

Ther. Dost thou think I have no sense, thou Arikeit me thus?

(16) Speak then, you unsalted leaven, speak;] This is a reading obtruded upon us by Mr Pope, that has no authority, or countenance from any of the copics, nor that apo proaches in any degree to the traces of the old reading, you whinideit leaven. This, 'tis true, is corrupted and unintellia gible; but the emendation which I have coined out of it, gives us a sense apt and consonant to what Ajax would say.

- Thou lump of four dough, kneaded-up out of flour unpurged and unfifted, with all the dross and bran in it.” Kent, in Lear, uses the same metaphorical reproach to the cowardly steward;

I will tread this woboulted villain to mortar i. e. This villain of fo gross a composition, that he was not fifted through the boulting-cloth, before he was worked up into leaven So Pandarus says to Troilus in the first scene of this play,

Ay, the bculti:g; but you must tarry the leavening. I cannot without injustice pafs over another conjectare, proposed by my ingenious friend Mr Warburton ;--you wine diett leaven. An epithet, as he says, not only adinirably adapted to the nature of laver, which is made only by fers pientation, but likewise must juftly applied to the loquacions Therlites.-- And, indeed, in several counties of England, an idle prater is called a windy fellow,

Ajax. The proclamation-----
Ther. Thon art proclaimed 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 scratching of thee; I would make thee the loathsomest scab in Greece.

Ajax. I fay, the proclamation

Ther. Thou grumblest and railest every hour on Achilles, and thou art as full of envy at his great: ness, as. Cerberus is at Proferpina's beauty: ay, that thon bark it at hiin.

Ajax. Mistress Thersites ! ------
Ther. Thou shouldīt strike him.
Ajax. Cobloaf!

Ther. He would pound thee into shivers with his filt, as a failor breaks a biiket.

Ajax. You whoreson cur!- [Beating hina.
Ther. Do, do.
Ajax. Thou stool for a witch !---

Ther. Ay, do, do, thou fodden-witted Lord; thon hast no more brain than I have in

my

elbows: an Aflinego may tutor thee. Thou scurvy valiant ass! thou art here but to thrash Trojans, and thou art bought and sold among those of any wit, like 2 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 scurvy Lord!
jax. You cur!

[Beating him Ther. Mars his ideot! do, rudeness; do, camel, do, do.

Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS. Achil. Why, how now, Ajax ? wherefore do you

this? How now, Thersites? what's the matter, man?

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Ther. You see him there, do you?";
Achil. Ay, what's the matter?
Ther. Nay, look upon him.
Achil. So I do, what's the matter?
Ther, Nay, but regard him well.
Achil. Well, why, I do so.

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

Achil. I know that, fool!
Ther. Ay, but that fool knows not himself.
Ajax. Therefore I beat thee.

Ther. Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he
utters; his evasions have ears thus long. I have
bobbed his brain, more than he has beat my bones:
I will buy nine sparrows for a penny, and his pia
mater is not worth the ninth part of a sparrow.
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?

[Ajax offers to strike him, Achilles interposes.
Ther. I say, this Ajax----
Achil. Nay, good Ajax.
Ther. Has 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.

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 damned cur, I shall---
Achil. Will

you
fet
your

wit to a fool's ?
Ther. No, I warrant you; for a fool's will shame
it.

Pat. Good words. Thersites.
Achil. What's the quarrel?

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

Ther. I serve thee not.
-Ajax. Well, go to, go to.
Ther. I serve here voluntary.

dchil. Your lait service was sufferance, 'twas not voluntary; no man is beaten voluntary; Ajax was he the voluntary, and you was under an impress.

Ther. Even so-a great deal of your wit too lyes in your finews, or else there be liars. 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 Ulyfies and old Nestor, (whose wit was mouldy ere your grandfires had nails on their toes,) (17) yoke you like draft oxen, and make you plough up the war.

Achil. What! what!
Ther. Yes, good footh; to Achilles! to Ajax! to---
Ajax. I shall cut out your tongue.

Ther. 'Tis no matter, I shall speak as much as thou afterwards.

Pat. No more words, Therfites.

Ther. I will hold my peace when Achilles' brach bids me, shall I ?

Achil. There's for you, Patroclus.
Ther. I will see you hanged like clotpoles, ere I

(17) There's Ulysses, and old Nestor, whose wit was muldy ere their grandfires had nails on their toes,] This is one of these editors wife riddles. This is no folly of Therfites's venting. What! was Nestor's wit mouldy, before his grandfire's toes had any nails ? that is, was the grandson an old man, before the grandfather was out of his swathing. cloaths ? Preposterous nonsense! and yet so easy a change, as one poor derivative pronoun for another, fets all right and clear.

come any more to your tents. I will keep where. there is wit stirring, and leave the faction of fools.

[Exit. Pat. A good riddance. Achil. Marry, this, Sir, is proclaimed through

all our host, That Hector, by the fifth hour of the fun, Will, with a trumpet 'twixt our tents and Troy, To-morrow-morning call fome knight to arms, That hath a stomach, such a one that dare Maintain I know not what; 'tis trash, farewel.

Ajax. Farewel! who shall answer him?

schil. I know not, 'tis put to lottery; otherwise He knew his man. Ajax. O, meaning you : I'll go learn more of it.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to Priam's Palace in Troy. Enter PRIAM, HECTOR, TROILUS, PARIS, and he

LENUS.

Pri. After so many hours, lives, speeches spent, This once again fays Nestor from the Greeks.: Deliver Helen, and all damage else (As honour, loss of time, travel, expence, Wounds, friends, and what else dear that is con

sumed In hot digestion of this cormorant war) Shall be struck off. Hector, what say you to't ?

Hell. Though noman leiler fears the Grecks than), As far as touches my particular, yet There is no lady of more softer bowels, More fpungy to fuck in the sense of fear, More ready to cry out, who knows what follows? Than Hector is. The wound of peace is Surety,(18)

(18) The wound of peace is furety,] i. e. The great danger of

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