Oldalképek
PDF
ePub

Give him allowance as the worthier man,
For that will phyfick the great Myrmidon,
Who broils in loud applaufe, and make him fall
His creft, that prouder than blue Iris bends.
If the dull brainless Ajax come safe off,
We'll drefs him up in voices: if he fail,
Yet go we under our opinion ftill,

That we have better men. But, hit or miss,
Our project's life this fhape of fenfe affumes,
Ajax, imploy'd, plucks down Achilles' plumes.
Neft. Ulyffes, now I relish thy advice,
And I will give a tafte of it forthwith
To Agamemnon; go we to him ftraight;
Two curs fhall tame each other; pride alone
Muft tar the maftiffs on, as 'twere their bone. [Exeunt.

T

ACT II.

SCENE, the Grecian Camp.

Enter Ajax, and Therfites.

HERSITES,

AJAX.

Ther. "Agamemnon-how if he had boiles-full,

all over, generally.

Ajax. Therfites,

Ther. And those boiles did run

[Talking to himself.

fay fo

-did

not the General run? were not that a botchy core?

Ajax. Dog!

Iber. Then there would come fome matter from him: I fee none now.

Ajax. Thou bitch wolf's fon, canft thou not hear?

feel then.

[Strikes him. Ther. The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mungrel beef-witted Lord!

[blocks in formation]

Ajax. Speak then, you unwinnow'd'ft (16) leaven, fpeak; I will beat thee into handsomeness.

Ther. I fhall foon rail thee into wit and holiness; but, I think, thy horfe will fooner con an oration, than thou learn a prayer without book; thou canst strike, canft thou? a red murrain o' thy jade's tricks! Ajax. Toads-ftool, learn me the proclamation. Ther. Doeft thou think, I have no fenfe, thou strik'ft me thus ?

Ajax. The proclamation.

Ther. Thou art proclaim'd a fool, I think.

Ajax. Do not, porcupine, do not, my fingersitch. Ther. I would, thou didst itch from head to foot, and I had the fcratching of thee; I would make thee the loathfom'ft fcab in Greece.

Ajax. I fay, the proclamation

Ther. Thou grumbleft and raileft every hour on Achilles, and thou art as full of envy at his greatness, as Cerberus is at Proferpina's beauty; ay, that thou bark'ft at him.

Ajax. Mistress Therfites!

Ther. Thou shouldft ftrike him.

(16) Speak then, you unfalted leaven, fpeak;] This is a reading obtruded upon us by Mr. Pope, that has no authority or countenance from any of the copies; nor that approaches in any degree to the traces of the old reading, you wbinid'ft leaven. This, 'tis true, is corrupted and unintelligible; but the emendation, which I have coin'd out of it, gives us a fenfe apt and confonant to what Ajax would fay "Ihou lump of fow'r dough, kneaded up out of a flower unpurgid and unfifted, with all the drofs and bran in it,” -Kent, in Lear, uses the fame metaphorical reproach to the cowardly fteward;_

I will tread this unboulted villain into mortar.

i e. This villain of fo grass a compofition, that he was not fifted thro' the boulting-cloth, before he was work'd up into leaven. So Pandarus fays to Troilus in the firft fcene of this play:

Ay, the bouling; but you must tarry the leavening. I cannot without injuice pafs over another conjecture, propos'd by my ingenious friend Mr. Warburton,- -you windieft leaven. An

epithet, as he fays, not only admirably adapted to the nature of leaven, which is made only by fermentation, but likewife moft justly applied to the loquacious Therfites.And, indeed, in feveral counties of England, an idle prater is call'd, a windy fellow.

Ajax. Cobloaf!

Ther. He would pound thee into shivers with his fift, as a failor breaks a bifket. Ajax. You whorefon cur!Ther. Do, do.

Ajax. Thou ftool for a witch!

[Beating bim.

Ther. Ay, do, do, thou fodden witted Lord; thou haft no more brain than I have in my elbows: an Affinego may tutor thee. Thou scurvy valiant afs! thou art here but to thrash Trojans, and thou art bought and fold among thofe of any wit, like a Barbarian flave. If thou ufe to beat me, I will begin at thy heel, and tell what thou art by inches, thou thing of no bowels, thou!

Ajax. You dog!'

Ther. You fcurvy Lord!

Ajax. You cur!

[Beating him. Ther. Mars his ideot! do, rudenefs; do, camel, do,do.

Enter Achilles and Patroclus.

Achil. Why, how now, Ajax? wherefore do you
How now, Therfites? what's the matter, man?
Ther. You fee him there, do you?

Achil. Ay, what's the matter?
Ther. Nay, look upon him.

Achil. So I do, what's the matter?

Ther. Nay, but regard him well.

Ajax. Well, why, I do fo.

this?

Ther. But yet you look not well upon him; for whofoever you take him to be, he is Ajax.

Achil I know that, fool.

Ther. Ay, but that fool knows not himself.

Ajax. Therefore I beat thee.

Ther. Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he ut ters; his evafions 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 firike him, Achilles interpofes.

Ther. I fay, this Ajax→→→→

Achil. Nay, good Ajax.

Ther. Has not fo much wit

Achil. Nay, I must hold you.

Ther. As will ftop 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 you fet your wit to a fool's ?

Ther No, I warrant you; for a fool's will fame it. Patr. Good words, Therfites.

Achil. What's the quarrel?

Ajax. I bade 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.

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 impress.

Ther. Even fo-a great deal of your wit too lies in your finews, or else 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,) (1-) yoke you like draft oxen, and make you plough up the wair.

(17) There's Ulyffes, and old Neftor, whose wit was mouldy ere their grandfires bad naiis on their toes.] This is one of these editors wife riddles. This is no folly of Therfites's venting. What! was Neftor's wit mouldy, before his grandfire's toes had any nails? that is, was the grandfon an old man, before the grandfather was out of his fwathing-cloaths? Prepofterous nonfenfe! and yet so easy a change, as one poor derivative pronoun for another, fets all right and clear.

Achil. What! what!

Ther. Yes, good footh: to, Achilles! to, Ajax! toAjax. I fhall cut out your tongue.

Ther. 'Tis no matter, I fhall speak 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 clotpcles, 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.

[hoit,

Achil. Marry, this Sir, is proclaim'd through all our

That Hector, by the fifth hour of the Sun,
Will, with a trumpet, 'twixt our tents and Troy,
To-morrow morning call fome knight to arms,
That hath a ftomach, fuch a one that dare
Maintain I know not what: 'tis trafh, farewel.
Ajax. Farewel! who fhall answer him?

Achil I know not, 'tis put to lott'ry; otherwise
He knew his man.

Ajax. O, meaning you: I'll go learn more of it. [Exe.

SCENE changes to Priam's Palace in Troy.

Enter Priam, Hector, Troilus, Paris, and Helenus.

Pri. A

FTER fo many hours, lives, fpeeches spent,

Thus once again fays Neftor from the Greeks : Deliver Helen, and all damage elfe

(As honour, lofs of time, travel, expence,

Wounds, friends, and what else dear that is confum'd

In hot digeftion of this cormorant war)

Shall be ftruck off. Hector, what say you to't?

Het. Though no man leffer fears the Greeks than I, As far as touches my particular, yet

There is no lady of more fofter bowels,
More fpungy to fuck in the sense of fear,

More ready to cry out, who knows what follows?

Than

« ElőzőTovább »