Ther. You fee him there, do you? Achil. So I do, what's the matter? Ther. Nay, but regard him well. Achil. Well, why, I do fo. Ther. But yet you look not well upon him; for who foever you take him to be, he is Ajax. Achil. I know that, fool. Ther. Ay, but that fool knows not himself. [Beating him. Ther. Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters; his evasions have ears thus long. I have bobb'd his brain more than he has beat my bones: I will buy nine fparrows for a penny, and his Pia Mater is not worth the ninth part of a fparrow. This Lord, (Achilles) Ajax, who wears his wit in his belly, and his guts in his head, I'll tell you what I fay of him. Achil. What? [Ajax offers to frike him, Achilles interpofes. Ther. I fay, this Ajax. Achil. Nay, good Ajax. Ther. Has not fo much wit Achil. Nay, good Ajax. Ther. As will flop the eye of Helen's needle, for whom he comes to fight. Achil. Peace, fool! Ther. I would have peace and quietnefs, but the fool will not he there, that he, look you there. Ajax. O thou damn'd cur, I fhall Achil. Will your wit to a fool's? you set your Ther. No, I warrant you, for a fool's will fhame it. Pat. Good words, Therfites. 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 ferve thee not. Ajax. Well, go to, go to. VOL. VI. C Ther. Ther. I ferve here voluntary. Achil. Your laft fervice was fufferance, 'twas not voluntary, no man is beaten voluntary; Ajax was here the voluntary, and you as under an imprefs. Ther. Ev'n fo-a great deal of your wit too lyes in your finews, or elfe there be liars. Hector fhall have a great catch, if he knock out either of your brains; he were as good crack a fufty nut with no kernel. Achil. What, with me too, Therfites? Ther. There's Ulyffes, and old Neftor, (whofe wit was mouldy ere your grandfires had nails on their toes,) yoke you like draft oxen, and make you plough up the war. Achil. What! what! Ther. Yes good footh, to Achilles, to Ajax, to Ajax. I fhall cut out your tongue. Ther. 'Tis no matter, I fhall fpeak as much as thou afterwards. Pat. No more words, Therfites. Ther. I will hold my peace when Achilles' brach bids me, fhall I? Achil. There's for you, Patroclus. Ther. I will fee you hang'd like clodpoles, ere I come any more to your tents. I will keep where there is wit ftirring, and leave the faction of fools. Pat. A good riddance. [Exit. Achil. Marry this, Sir, is proclaim'd through all our hoft, That Hedor, by the fifth hour of the fun, Will with a trumpet, 'twixt our tents and Troy, To-morrow morning call fome Knight to arms, Achil. I know not, 'tis put to lott'ry; otherwise Ajax. O, meaning you: I'll go learn more of it. [Exe. 4 their... old edit. Theob. emend. SCENE SCENE III. Priam's Palace in Troy. Enter Priam, Hector, Troilus, Paris, and Helenus. Pri. A Fter fo many hours, lives, speeches spent, Thus once again fays Neftor from the Greeks: Deliver Helen, and all damage elfe (As honour, loss of time, travel, expence, Shall be ftruck off. Hector, what fay you to't? There is no Lady of more fofter bowels, 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 C 2 And 7 wound 8 worst. old edit. Warb, emend. And buckle in a waste, most fathomlefs, As fears and reafons? fie for godly fhame! Hel. No marvel, tho' you bite fo sharp at reasons, You know a fword imploy'd is perilous, Or like a ftar dis-orb'd?-Nay, if we talk of reafon, Het. Brother, fhe is not worth what fhe doth coft Troi. What is ought, but as 'tis valu'd? Hect. But value dwells not in particular will, It holds its eftimate and dignity As well wherein 'tis precious of it self, As in the prizer: 'tis mad idolatry, To make the service greater than the God; (Although (Although my will diftafte what is elected) The wife I chufe? there can be no evasion To blench from this, and to ftand firm by honour. Because we now are full. It was thought meet Pri. What noife? what fhriek is this? Troi. 'Tis our mad fifter, I do know her voice. Helt. It is Caffandra. : That we have ftoln what we do fear to keep SCENE |