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: 0, 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-than-little wit from them that they have! which short-armed ignorance itself knows is so abundant scarce, it will not in circumvention deliver a fly from a spider, without drawing their 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 dependent on those that war for a placket. I have said my prayers; and devil, envy, say amen. What ho! my lord

Achilles!

Enter PATROCLUS.

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 prayer?

Ther. Ay; the heavens hear me !

not served thyself into my table so many meals? Come; what's Agamemnon?

Ther. Thy commander, Achilles : then tell me, Patroclus, what's Achilles ?

Patr. Thy lord, Thersites: then tell me, I pray thee, what's thyself?

Ther. Thy knower, Patroclus : then tell me, Patroclus, what art thou?

Patr. Thou mayst tell, that know'st.

Achil. O, tell, tell!

Ther. I'll decline the whole question. Agamemnon commands Achilles; Achilles is my lord; I am Patroclus' knower; and Patroclus is a fool.

Patr. You rascal!

Ther. Peace, fool; I have not done.

Achil. He is a privileged man. - Proceed,

Thersites.

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 prover: it suffices me, thou art. Look you, who comes here?

Enter AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, NESTOR, AJAX, and DIOMEDES.

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 to bleed to death upon! Now the dry serpigo on the subject! and war and lechery confound all! [Exit.

Agam. Where is Achilles?

Patr. Within his tent; but ill disposed, my lord. Agam. Let it be known to him that we are here. He shent our messengers; and we lay by Our appertainments, visiting of him : Let him be told so; lest perchance he think We dare not move the question of our place, Or know not what we are.

Patr. I shall say so to him. [Exit. Ulys. We saw him at the opening of his tent; he is not sick.

Ajax. Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart: you may call it melancholy, if you will favour the man; but, by my head, 'tis pride : but why, why? let him shew us a cause.—A word, my lord. [Takes AGAMEMNON aside. Nes. What moves Ajax thus to bay at him?

We are too well acquainted with these answers:
But his evasion, winged thus swift with scorn,
Cannot outfly our apprehensions.

Much attribute he hath; and much the reason
Why we ascribe it to him: yet all his virtues
(Not virtuously on his own part beheld)
Do, in our eyes, begin to lose their gloss;
Yea, like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish,
Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell him,
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

Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on;
Disguise the holy strength of their command,
And underwrite in an observing kind
His humorous predominance; yea, watch
His pettish lunes, his ebbs, his flows, as if
The passage and whole carriage of this action
Rode on his tide. Go, tell him this; and add,
That if he overhold his price so much,
We'll none of him; but let him, like an engine
Not portable, lie under this report—
Bring action hither; this cannot go to war:
A stirring dwarf we do allowance give
Before a sleeping giant. Tell him so.
Patr. I shall; and bring his answer presently.
[Exit.
Agam. In second voice we'll not be satisfied;
We come to speak with him.-Ulysses, enter you.
[Exit ULYSSES.

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 sayhe 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.

Nes. And yet he loves himself: is it not strange? [Aside.

Agam.

Let Ajax go to him.Dear lord, go you and greet him in his tent: 'Tis said, he holds you well; and will be led, At your request, a little from himself.

Ulys. O, Agamemnon, let it not be so! We'll consecrate the steps that Ajax makes When they go from Achilles. Shall the proud lord That bastes his arrogance with his own seam, And never suffers matter of the world Enter his thoughts-save such as do revolve And ruminate himself;-shall he be worshipped Of that we hold an idol more than he? No, this thrice-worthy and right-valiant lord Must not so strain his palm, nobly acquired; Nor, by my will, assubjugate his merit,

Ajax. He should not bear it so; He should eat swords first: shall pride carry it? Nes. An 'twould, you'd carry half. [Aside. Ulys. He'd have ten shares.

[Aside.

Ajax. I'll knead him, I'll make him supple! Nes. He's not yet thorough warm: force him with praises:

Pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry. [Aside. Ulys. My lord, you feed too much on this dislike. [TO AGAMEMNON.

Nes. Our noble general, do not do so. Dio. You must prepare to fight without Achilles. Ulys. Why, 'tis this naming of him does him harm. Here is a man-but 'tis before his face; I will be silent.

Nes.

Wherefore should you so?

He is not emulous, as Achilles is.

Ulys. Know the whole world, he is as valiant. Ajax. A whoreson dog, that shall palter thus with us!

'Would he were a Trojan!

Nes. What a vice were it in Ajax now,-
Ulys. If he were proud?
Dio. Or covetous of praise?
Ulys. Ay, or surly borne?

Dio. Or strange, or self-affected?

Ulys. Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet

composure;

Praise him that got thee, she that gave thee suck:
Famed be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature
Thrice-famed, beyond all erudition :
But he that disciplined thy arms to fight,
Let Mars divide eternity in twain,
And give him half: and, for thy vigour,
Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield

To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom,
Which like a bourn, a pale, a shore, confines
Thy spacious and dilated parts: here's Nestor,—
Instructed by the antiquary times,

He must, he is, he cannot but be wise
But pardon, father Nestor, were your days
As green as Ajax', and your brain so tempered,
You should not have the eminence of him,
But be as Ajax.

SCENE I.-Troy. A Room in PRIAM's Palace.

Enter PANDARUS and a Servant. Pan. Friend! you! pray you, a word: do not you follow the young lord Paris?

Serv. Ay, sir, when he goes before me.
Pan. You do depend upon him, I mean?
Serv. Sir, I do depend upon the lord.

Pan. You do depend upon a noble gentleman;

I must needs praise him.

Serv. The lord be praised!

Pan. You know me, do you not?
Serv. 'Faith, sir, superficially.

Pan. Friend, know me better; I am the lord Pandarus.

Serv. I hope I shall know your honour better. Pan. I do desire it.

Serv. You are in the state of grace.

[Music within. Pan. Grace! not so, friend; honour and lordship are my titles. What music is this?

Serv. I do but partly know, sir; it is music in parts.

Pan. Know you the musicians?

Serv. Wholly, sir.

Pan. Who play they to?

Serv. To the hearers, sir.

Pan. At whose pleasure, friend?

Serv. At mine, sir, and theirs that love music.
Pan. Command, I mean, friend.
Serv. Who shall I command, sir?

Pan. Friend, we understand not one another; I am too courtly, and thou art too cunning: at whose request do these men play?

Serv. That's to 't, indeed, sir: marry, sir, at the request of Paris, my lord, who is there in person; with him, the mortal Venus, the heart-blood of beauty, love's invisible soul,

Pan. Who, my cousin Cressida?

Serv. No, sir, Helen: could you not find out that by her attributes?

Pan. It should seem, fellow, that thou hast not seen the lady Cressida. I come to speak with Paris from the prince Troilus: I will make a complimental assault upon him, for my business seeths. Serv. Sodden business! there's a stewed phrase, indeed!

Enter PARIS and HELEN, attended.

Pan. Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair company! fair desires, in all fair measure, fairly guide them! especially to you, fair queen! fair thoughts be your fair pillow!

Helen. Dear lord, you are full of fair words. Pan. You speak your fair pleasure, sweet queen.-Fair prince, here is good broken music.

Par. You have broke it, cousin and, by my life, you shall make it whole again; you shall piece it out with a piece of your performance :Nell, he is full of harmony.

Pan. Truly, lady, no. Helen. O, sir,

--

Pan. Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude. Par. Well said, my lord! well, you say so in fits. Pan. I have business to my lord, dear queen: -My lord, will you vouchsafe me a word? Helen. Nay, this shall not hedge us out: we'll hear you sing, certainly.

Pan. Well, sweet queen, you are pleasant with me. But, marry, thus, my lord: my dear lord and most esteemed friend, your brother TroilusHelen. My lord Pandarus; honey-sweet lord,— Pan. Go to, sweet queen, go to:-commends himself most affectionately to you.

Helen. You shall not bob us out of our melody; if you do, our melancholy upon your head!

Helen. Why, this is kindly done.

Pan. My niece is horribly in love with a thing you have, sweet queen.

Helen. She shall have it, my lord, if it be not my lord Paris.

Pan. He! no, she 'll none of him; they two are twain.

Helen. Falling in, after falling out, may make them three.

Pan. Come, come, I'll hear no more of this; I'll sing you a song now.

Helen. Ay, ay, pr'y thee now. By my troth, sweet lord, thou hast a fine forehead.