And that great minds, of partial indulgence If Helen then be wife to Sparta's king,— In doing wrong extenuates not wrong, But makes it much more heavy. Hector's opinion My spritely brethren, I propend to you In resolution to keep Helen still; For 't is a cause that hath no mean dependence TRO. Why, there you touch'd the life of our design Than the performance of our heaving spleens, As smiles upon the forehead of this action, HECT. I am yours, This, I presume, will wake him. SCENE III.-The Grecian Camp. Before Achilles' Tent. Enter THERSITES. [Exeunt. THER. How now, Thersites? what, lost in the labyrinth of thy fury? Shall the elephant Ajax carry it thus? he beats me, and I rail at him: O worthy satisfaction! would it were otherwise; that I could beat him, whilst he railed at me: 'Sfoot, I'll learn to conjure and raise devils, but I'll see some issue of my spiteful execrations. Then there 's Achilles,—a rare engineer. If Troy be not taken till these two undermine it, the walls will stand till they fall of themselves. O thou great thunder-darter of Olympus, forget that thou art Jove the king of gods; and, Mercury, lose all the serpentine craft of thy Caduceus; if ye take not that little little less-thanlittle wit from them that they have! which short-aimed ignorance itself knows is so abundant scarce, it will not in circumvention deliver a fly from a spider, without drawing the massy irons, and cutting the web. After this, the vengeance on the whole camp! or, rather, the bone-ache! for that, methinks, is the curse dependant on those that war for a placket. I have said my prayers; and devil envy, say Amen. What, ho! my lord Achilles ! Enter PATROCLUS. a PATR. Who's there? Thersites? good Thersites, come in and rail. THER. If I could have remembered a gilt counterfeit, thou wouldst not have slipped out of my contemplation: but it is no matter: Thyself upon thyself! The common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in great revenue! heaven bless thee from a tutor, and discipline come not near thee! Let thy blood be thy direction till thy death! then if she that lays thee out says thou art a fair corse, I'll be sworn and sworn upon 't, she never shrouded any but lazars. Amen. Where 's Achilles ? PATR. What, art thou devout? wast thou in a prayer? THER. Ay: the heavens hear me ! ACHIL. Who 's there? Enter ACHILLES. PATR. Thersites, my lord. ACHIL. Where, where ?-Art thou come? Why, my cheese, my digestion, why hast thou not served thyself in to my table so many meals ?-Come; what's Agamemnon? THER. Thy commander, Achilles :-Then tell me, Patroclus, what 's Achilles? ACHIL. O, tell, tell. THER. I'll decline the whole question. Agamemnon commands Achilles; THER. Peace, fool; I have not done. ACHIL. He is a privileged man.-Proceed, Thersites. a Short-aimed. The originals have short-armed. The correction is suggested by Mr. Dyce. THER. Agamemnon is a fool; Achilles is a fool; Thersites is a fool; and, as aforesaid, Patroclus is a fool. ACHIL. Derive this; come. THER. Agamemnon is a fool to offer to command Achilles; Achilles is a fool to be commanded of Agamemnon; Thersites is a fool to serve such a fool; and Patroclus is a fool positive. PATR. Why am I a fool? THER. Make that demand of the provera.-It suffices me thou art. who comes here? Enter AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, NESTOR, DIOMEDES, and AJAX. Look you, ACHIL. Patroclus, I'll speak with nobody:-Come in with me, Thersites. [Exit. THER. Here is such patchery, such juggling, and such knavery! all the argument is, a cuckold and a whore: A good quarrel, to draw emulous factions, and bleed to death upon. Now the dry serpigo on the subject! and war, and lechery, confound all! ULYSS. We saw him at the opening of his tent; he is not sick. [Exit. [Exit. AJAX. Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart: you may call it melancholy, if you will favour the man; but, by my head, it is pride: But why, why? let him show us the cause.-A word, my lord. [Takes AGAMEMNON aside. NEST. What moves Ajax thus to bay at him? ULYSS. Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him. NEST. Who? Thersites ? ULYSS. He. NEST. Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost his argument. ULYSS. No; you see, he is his argument that has his argument,—Achilles. NEST. All the better; their fraction is more our wish than their faction: But it was a strong counsel a fool could disunite. ULYSS. The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie. Here comes Patroclus. ■ In the folio, to the creator. Shent. The quarto reads sate, the folio, sent. Theobald made the change to shent, meaning to rebuke. NEST. No Achilles with him. Re-enter PATROCLUS. ULYSS. The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy: AGAM. Hear Patroclus;- Much attribute he hath; and much the reason We come to speak with him: And you shall not sin, If you do say we think him over-proud, And under-honest; in self-assumption greater Than in the note of judgment; and worthier than himself Disguise the holy strength of their command, We come to speak with him.-Ulysses, enter you. ■ Flexure, the true reading, is flight in the folio. [Exit. [Exit ULYSSES. Lines in the folio. Hanmer changed the word, the meaning of which is clear enough, into lunes. AJAX. What is he more than another? AGAM. No more than what he thinks he is. AJAX. Is he so much? Do you not think he thinks himself a better man than I am? AGAM. No question. AJAX. Will you subscribe his thought, and say he is? AGAM. No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as valiant, as wise, no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether more tractable. AJAX. Why should a man be proud? How doth pride grow? I know not what pride is. AGAM. Your mind 's the clearer, Ajax, and your virtues the fairer. He that is proud eats up himself: pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle; and whatever praises itself but in the deed, devours the deed in the praise. AJAX. I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendering of toads. [Aside. Re-enter ULYSSES. ULYSS. Achilles will not to the field to-morrow. ULYSS. He doth rely on none; Untent his person, and share the air with us? AGAM. Let Ajax go to him.Dear lord, go you and greet him in his tent: "T is said, he holds you well; and will be led, 'Gainst itself is the reading of the folio; the quarto, down himself. Plaguy. Steevens, in his horror of a line of more than ten syllables, calls plaguy a vulgar epithet, the wretched interpolation of some foolish player." Malone, with good sense, says, "the very word explains what follows,-' the death-tokens.'" |