ACT V. SCENE I.-The Grecian Camp. Before ACHILLES' Tent. Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS. Achil. I'll heat his blood with Greekish wine to-night, Which with my scimitar I'll cool to-morrow. Patroclus, let us feast him to the height. A chil. Enter THERSITES. How now, thou core of envy? Thou crusty batch of nature, what's the news? Ther. Why, thou picture of what thou seemest, and idol of idiot worshippers, here's a letter for thee. Achil. From whence, fragment? Ther. Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy. Ther. The surgeon's box', or the patient's wound. Patr. Well said, Adversity! and what need these tricks? Ther. Pr'ythee be silent, 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 rotten diseases of the south, the guts-griping, ruptures, catarrhs, loads o'gravel i'the back, lethargies, cold palsies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten livers, wheezing lungs, bladders 7 The surgeon's box,] In this answer Thersites quibbles upon word tent. the s Well said, Adversity!] contrariety. The reply of Thersites has been studiously adverse to the drift of the question urged by Patroclus. Adversity, in this instance, signifies full of imposthume, sciaticas, lime-kilns i'the palm, incurable bone-ach, and the rivelled fee-simple of the tetter, take and take again such preposterous discoveries! Patr. Why thou damnable box of envy, thou, what meanest thou to curse thus ? Ther. Do I curse thee? Patr. Why, no, you ruinous butt; you whoreson indistinguishable cur, no. Ther. No? why art thou then exasperate, thou idle immaterial skein of sleive silk, thou green sarcenet flap for a sore eye, thou tassel of a prodigal's purse, thou? Ah, how the poor world is pestered with such water-flies; diminutives of nature! Patr. Out, gall! Ther. Finch egg'! Achil. My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite From my great purpose in to-morrow's battle. Here is a letter from queen Hecuba; A token from her daughter, my fair love; An oath that I have sworn. I will not break it: Come, come, Thersites, help to trim my tent; [Exeunt ACHILLES and PATROCLUS. 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 madmen. Here's Agamemnon,-an honest fellow enough, and one that loves quails; but he has not so much brain as 9 thou idle immaterial skein of sleive silk,] All the terms used by Thersites of Patroclus, are emblematically expressive of flexibility, compliance, and mean officiousness. 1 Finch egg!] A finch's egg is remarkably gaudy; but of such terms of reproach it is difficult to pronounce the true signification. ear-wax: And the goodly transformation of Jupiter there, his brother, the bull,—the primitive statue, and oblique memorial of cuckolds; a thrifty shoeing-horn in a chain, hanging at his brother's leg,-to what form, but that he is, should wit larded with malice, and malice forced with wit, turn him to? To an ass, were nothing; he is both ass and ox: to an ox, were nothing; he is both ox and ass. To be a dog, a mule, a cat, a fitchew, a toad, a lizard, an owl, a puttock, or a herring without a roe, I would not care: but to be Menelaus, I would conspire against destiny. Ask me not what I would be, if I were not Thersites; for I care not to be the louse of a lazar, so I were not Menelaus.— Hey-day! spirits and fires3! Enter HECTOR, TROILUS, AJAX, AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, NESTOR, MENELAUS, and DIOMED, with lights. Agam. We go wrong, we go wrong. Ajax. There, where we see the lights. Hect. Ajax. No, not a whit. Ulyss. No, yonder 'tis ; I trouble you. Here comes himself to guide you. Enter ACHILLES. 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. Hect. Thanks, and good night, to the Greeks' general. Men. Good night, my lord. Hect. Good night, sweet Menelaus +. 2 a fitchew,] i. e. a polecat. 3 spirits and fires!] This Thersites speaks upon the first sight of the distant lights. † "sweet lord Menelaus." MALONE. Ther. Sweet draught: Sweet, quoth 'a! sweet sink, sweet sewer. Achil. Good night, And welcome, both to those that go, or tarry. Agam. Good night. [Exeunt AGAMEMNON and MENELAUS. Achil. Old Nestor tarries; and you too, Diomed, Keep Hector company an hour or two. Dio. I cannot, lord; I have important business, Follow his torch, he goes To Calchas' tent; I'll keep you company. [Aside to TROILUS. Tro. Sweet sir, you honour me. And so good night. [Exit DIOMED; ULYSSES and TROILUS following. Achil. Come, come, enter my tent. [Exeunt ACHIL. HECTOR, AJAX, and NEST. Ther. That same Diomed's a false-hearted rogue, a most unjust knave; I will no more trust him when he leers, than I will a serpent when he hisses: he will spend his mouth, and promise, like Brabler the hound'; but when he performs, astronomers foretell it; it is prodigious, there will come some change; the sun borrows of the moon, when Diomed keeps his word. I will rather leave to see Hector, than not to dog him they say, he keeps a Trojan drab, and uses the traitor Calchas' tent: I'll after.-Nothing but lechery! all incontinent varlets! [Exit. 4 he will spend his mouth, and promise, like Brabler the hound;] If a hound gives his mouth, and is not upon the scent of the game, he is by sportsmen called a babler or brabler. SCENE II. The same. Before Calchas' Tent. Enter DIOMEDES. Dio. What are you up here, ho? speak. Cal. [within.] Who calls? Dio. Diomed. Calchas, I think. Where's your daughter? Cal. [within.] She comes to you. Enter TROILUS and ULYSSES, at a distance; after them THERSITES. Ulyss. Stand where the torch may not discover us. Enter CRESSIDA. Tro. Cressid, come forth to him! Dio. How now, my charge? Cres. Now, my sweet guardian!-Hark! a word with you. Tro. Yea, so familiar! Ulyss. She will sing any man at first sight. [Whispers. Ther. And any man may sing her, if he can take her cliff; she's noted. Dio. Will you remember? Cres. Dio. Remember? yes. Nay, but do then; And let your mind be coupled with your words. Tro. What should she remember? Ulyss. List! Cres. Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly. Ther. Roguery! 6 her cliff;] That is, her key. Clef, French. |