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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 damn'd cur, I shall-
Achil. Will
you your

wit to a fool's ?
Ther. No, I warrant you ; for a fool's will shame it.
Pat. Good words, Therftes.
Achil. What's the quarrel ?

Ajax. I bad 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.

Achil. Your last service was sufferance, 'twas not voluntary; no man is beaten voluntary; Ajax was here the voluntary, and you as under an impress. Ther. Evin ro- great deal of your

wit too lies in your finews, or else there be liars. Heftor 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, T herfites?

Ther. There's Ulysses and old Neflor, (whose wit was mouldy * ere your Grandfires had nails on their toes.) yoke you like draft oxen, and make you plough up the wair.

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.
* Ere their Grandsres] We lhjuld read, ere your Grandfires.

Pat.

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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 hang'd like clotpoles, ere I 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 proclaim'd' through all

our Hoft,
That Hektor, by the fifth hour of the Sun,
Will, with a trumpet, 'twixt our Tenis 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.

{jax. Farewel! who shall answer hin?

Achil. I know not, 'tis put to lott'ry; otherwise He knew his man. Ajax. 0, meaning you: I'll go learn more of it.

[Exeunt.

S CE N E III.

Changes to Priam's Palace in Troy. Enter Priam, Hector, Troilus, Paris and Helenus. Prt. A Thus once again says Neftor from the Greeks :

FTER so many hours, lives, speeches spent, Deliver Helen, and all damage else (As honour, loss of time, travel, expence, Wounds, friends, and what else dear that is consum'd In hot digestion of this cormorant war) Shall be ltruck off. Hector, what say you to't?

He&t. Though no man leffer fear the Greeks than 1, As far as touches my particular, yet There is no lady of more fofter bowels, More spungy to suck in the sense of fear, More ready to cry out, who knows what follows ?

Than

C2

Than Hector is. The Wound of Peace is Surety,
Surety secure; but modeft Doubt is callid
The beacon of the wise; the tent that searches
To th' bottom of the worst.

Let Helen go:
Since the first sword was drawn about this question,
Ev'ry tithe soul ’mongst many thousand, dismes
Hath been as dear as Helen. I mean, of ours.
If we have lost 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 reason which denies
The yielding of her up?

Troi. 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 sum
The vast proportion of his infinite ?
And buckle in a waste most fathomless,
With spans and inches fo diminutive
As fears and reasons ? fie, for godly shame!
Hel. No marvel, though you bite so sharp at reasons,

fo
empty

of them. Should not our father
Bear the great fway of his affairs with reasons ;
Because your speech bath none, that tells him so?
Troi. You are for dreams and slumbers, brother

Priest,
You fur your gloves with reasons. Here are your

reasons.
You know, an enemy intends you harm;
You know, a sword employ’d is perillous;
And reason flies the object of all harm.
Who marvels then, when Helenus beholds
A Grecian and his sword, if he do set
The very wings of reason to his heels,
And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove,
Or like a Itar disorb'd !-Nay, if we talk of reason,
Let's shut our gates, and fleep: manhood and honour

Should

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Should have hare-hearts, would they but fat their

thoughts With this cramm'd reason : reason and respect Make livers pale, and lustyhood deject.

Heå. Brother, he is not worth what she doth coft The holding

Troi. What is aught, but as 'tis valued ?

Heal. But value dwells not in particular will ;
It holds its estimate and dignity
As well wherein 'tis precious of itself,
As in the prizer : 'tis mad idolatry,
To make the service greater than the God;
And the Will dotes, that is inclinable
To what infectiously itself affects,
* Without some image of th' affected's merit.

Troi. I take to-day a wife, and my election
Is led on in the conduct of

my

will; My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears, Two traded pilots 'twixt the dangerous shores: Of Will and Judgment; how may I avoid (Although my Will diftafte what is elected) The wife I chuse ? there can be no evasion To blench from this, and to stand firm by honour.. We'turn not back the silks upon the merchant, When we have spoildthem; nor th' remainder viands We do not throw in unrefpe&ive place, Because we now are full. It was thought meet, Paris should do some vengeance on the Greeks : Your breath of full consent bellied his fails ; The feas and winds (old wranglers) took a truce, And did him fervice : 'he touch'd the Ports defir'd; And, for an old aunt, whom the Greeks held captive, He brought a Grecian Qucen, whose youth and

freshness Wrinkles Apollo's, and makes ftale the morning. Why keep we her ? the Grecians keep our aunt: * Without some image of th' affe&ed Merit.] We should read, -th' affe&ed's Merit.

Is she worth keeping ? why, she is a pearl,
Whose price hath launch'd above a thousand ships,
And turn'd crown's Kings to merchants
If you'll avouch, 'ewas wisdom Paris went,
(As you must necds, for you all cryd, go, go :)
If you'll confess, he brought home noble prize,
(As you must needs, for you all clap'd your hands,
And cry'd, inestimable !) why do you now
The issue of your proper wisdoms rate,
And do a deed that fortune never did,
Beggar that estimation which you priz'd.
Richer than sea and land 3 otheft most base !
What we have foll'n that we do fear to keep! !..
* Base thieves, unworthy of a thing so stoll'n,
Who in their country did them that disgrace,
We fear to warrant in our native place !

Caf. [within.] Cry, Trojans, cry!
Pri. What noise, what shriek is this?
Troi. 'Tis our mad lister, I do know her voice.
Caf. [within.]. Cry, Trojans !
Heat. It is Cassandra. ,

Caf.

S CE N E IV.
Enter Cassandra, with her hair about her ears.
RY, Trojans, cry; lend me ten thousand eyes,

And I will fill them with prophetic tears. Heat. Peace, fisier, peace.

Caf. Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled old, Soft infancy, that nothing can but cry, Add to my clamour ! let us pay betimes A moiety of that mass of moan to come : Cry, Trojans, cry, practise your eyes with tears. Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion ftand : Our fire-brand brother, Paris, burns us all. Cry, Trojans, cry! a Helen and a woe ; Cry, cry, Troy burns, or else let Helen go. [Exit. * But Thieves,] We should read, base Thieves.

Hez.

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