If Helen then be wife to Sparta's king,
As it is known she is, these moral laws
Of nature and of nations speak aloud
To have her back return'd: thus to persist
In doing wrong extenuates not wrong,
But makes it much more heavy. Hector's opinion
Is this in way of truth: yet, ne'ertheless,
My spritely brethren, I propend to you
In resolution to keep Helen still;
For 'tis a cause that hath no mean dependance
Upon our joint and several dignities.
Tro. Why, there you touch'd the life of our design:
Were it not glory that we more affected
Than the performance of our heaving spleens,
I would not wish a drop of Trojan blood
Spent more in her defence. But, worthy Hector,
She is a theme of honour and renown;
A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds,
Whose present courage may beat down our foes,
And fame in time to come canonize us :
For, I presume, brave Hector would not lose
So rich advantage of a promised glory
As smiles upon the forehead of this action
For the wide world's revenue.
You valiant offspring of great Priamus.
I have a roisting challenge sent amongst
The dull and factious nobles of the Greeks,
Will strike amazement to their drowsy spirits: 210
I was advertised their great general slept,
Whilst emulation in the army crept :
This, I presume, will wake him.
The Grecian camp. Before the tent of Achilles.
Enter Thersites, solus.
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 enginer. 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
Neapolitan 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!
Patr. Who's there? Thersites! Good Thersites, come in and rail.
Ther. If I could ha' remembered a gilt counterfeit,
thou wouldst not have slipped out of my con-
templation but it is no matter; thyself upon
thyself! The common curse of mankind, folly 30
and ignorance, be thine in great revenue! heaven
bless thee from a tutor, and discipline come
not near thee! Let thy blood be thy direc-
tion 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 !
Achil. Who's there?
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?
Patr. Thy lord, Thersites: then tell me, I pray
Ther. Thy knower, Patroclus: then tell me, Patroclus, what art thou?
Patr. Thou mayst tell that knowest.
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.
Ther. Peace, fool! I have not done.
Achil. He is a privileged man. Proceed, Ther
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?
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 80
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