Ther. Why, he stalks up and down like a peacock,-a stride and a stand: ruminates like an hostess that hath no arithmetic but her brain to set down her reckoning: bites his lip with a politic1 regard, as who should say "There were wit in this head, an 'twould out;" and so there is; but it lies as coldly in him as fire in a flint, which will not show without knocking. The man's undone for ever; for if Hector break not his neck i' the combat, he'll break 't himself in vainglory. He knows not me: I said, "Good morrow, Ajax;" and he replies, "Thanks, Agamemnon.' What think you of this man, that takes me for the general? [He's grown a very land-fish, languageless, a monster. A plague of opinion! a man may wear it on both sides, like a leather jerkin.] 266 Ther. If to-morrow be a fair day, by eleven o'clock it will go one way or other: howsoever, he shall pay for me ere he has me. Patr. Your answer, sir. Ther. Fare you well, with all my heart. 300 Achil. Why, but he is not in this tune, is he? Ther. No, but he's out o' tune thus. What music will be in him when Hector has knock'd out his brains, I know not; but, I am sure, none,-unless the fiddler Apollo get his sinews to make catlings3 on. Achil. Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight. Ther. Let me bear another to his horse; for that's the more capable' creature. 310 SCENE I. A Street in Troy. ACT IV. Enter, from one side, ÆNEAS, and Servant with a torch; from the other, PARIS, DEIPHOBUS, ANTENOR, DIOMEDES, and others, with torches. Par. See, ho! who's that there? Dei. "Tis the Lord Æneas. Ene. Is the prince there in person?— Had I so good occasion to lie long As you, Prince Paris, nothing but heavenly business Should rob my bed-mate of my company. Dio. That's my mind too.-Good morrow, Lord Æneas. Par. A valiant Greek, Æneas,- take his hand, Witness the process of your speech, wherein 11 Dio. The one and other Diomed embraces. Our bloods are now in calm; and, so long, health; But when contention and occasion meet, By Jove, I'll play the hunter for thy life With all my force, pursuit, and policy. Ene. And thou shalt hunt a lion, that will fly 20 With his face backward. - In humane gentle- worse. 30 Both alike: 59 Dio. He merits well to have her, that doth seek her, Not making any scruple of her soilure,3 With such a hell of pain and world of charge; And you as well to keep her, that defend her, Not palating the taste of her dishonour, With such a costly loss of wealth and friends: [He, like a puling cuckold, would drink up The lees and dregs of a flat tamed piece; You, like a lecher, out of whorish loins Are pleas'd to breed out your inheritors: Both merits pois'd, each weighs nor less nor more; But he as he, each heavier for a whore.] 2 Quality = tenor of it. 1 By days, i.e. seven days, but not consecutive. 3 Soilure, defilement Flat, metaphor from wine. 50 Ene. Is not Prince Troilus here? It doth import1 him much to speak with me. Ene. Who!-nay, then: -come, come, you'll do him wrong ere you're ware: you'll be so true to him to be false to him: do not you know of him, but yet go fetch him hither; go. Cres. O the gods!-what's the matter? Pan. Prithee, get thee in: would thou hadst ne'er been born! I knew thou wouldst be his death:-O, poor gentleman!--A plague upon Antenor! Cres. Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees I beseech you, what's the matter? Pan. Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone; thou art chang'd for Antenor: thou must to thy father, and be gone from Troilus: 't will be his death; 't will be his bane; he cannot bear it. Cres. O you immortal gods!--I will not go. Pan. Thou must. 101 |