Patroclus.
Achil.
I'll heat his blood with Greekish wine to-night,
Which with my scimitar I'll cool to-morrow1 note
.—
Patroclus, let us feast him to the height2 note
.
Patr.
Here comes Thersites.
-- 400 --
Enter Thersites.
Achil.
How now, thou core* note of envy?
Thou crusty batch of nature3 note
, what's the news?
Ther.
Why, thou picture of what thou seemest,
and idol of idiot-worshippers, here's a letter for
thee.
Achil.
From whence, fragment?
Ther.
Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy.
Patr.
Who keeps the tent now?
Ther.
The surgeon's box4 note, or the patient's wound.
Patr.
Well said, Adversity5 note! and what need
these tricks?
Ther.
Pr'ythee be silent, boy; I profit not by
thy talk: thou art thought to be Achilles' male
varlet.
-- 401 --
Patr.
Male varlet6 note
, you rogue! what's that?
Ther.
Why, his masculine whore. Now the
rotten diseases of the south, the guts-griping, ruptures,
catarrhs, loads o'gravel i'the back, lethargies,
cold palsies7 note, raw eyes, dirt-rotten livers, wheezing
lungs, bladders full of imposthume, sciaticas, lime-kilns
i'the palm, incurable bone-ach, and the rivelled
fee-simple of the tetter, take and take again such
preposterous discoveries!
Patr.
Why thou damnable box of envy, thou,
what meanest thou to curse thus?
Ther.
Do I curse thee?
Patr.
Why, no, you ruinous butt8 note
; you whoreson
indistinguishable cur9 note, no.
-- 402 --
Ther.
No? why art thou then exasperate, thou
idle immaterial skein of sleive* note silk1 note
, thou green
sarcenet flap for a sore eye, thou tassel of a prodigal's
purse, thou? Ah, how the poor world is pestered
with such water-flies2 note
; diminutives of nature3 note
!
Patr.
Out, gall4 note!
Ther.
Finch egg5 note
!
Achil.
My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite
From my great purpose in to-morrow's battle.
Here is a letter from queen Hecuba;
A token from her daughter, my fair love6 note;
Both taxing me, and gaging me to keep
An oath that I have sworn. I will not break it:
-- 403 --
Fall, Greeks; fail, fame; honour, or go, or stay;
My major vow lies here, this I'll obey.—
Come, come, Thersites, help to trim my tent;
This night in banqueting must all be spent.—
Away, Patroclus.
[Exeunt Achilles and Patroclus.
Ther.
With too much blood, and too little brain,
these two may run mad; but if with too much
brain, and too little blood, they do, I'll be a curer
of madmen. Here's Agamemnon,—an honest fellow
enough, and one that loves quails; but he has
not so much brain as ear-wax: And the goodly
transformation of Jupiter there, his brother, the
bull,—the primitive statue, and oblique memorial of
cuckolds7 note
; a thrifty shoeing-horn in a chain, hanging
at his brother's leg* note,—to what form, but that
he is, should wit larded with malice, and malice
forced† note with wit8 note
, turn him to? To an ass, were
nothing: he is both ass and ox: to an ox were
-- 404 --
nothing; he is both ox and ass. To be a dog, a
mule, a cat, a fitchew9 note, a toad, a lizard, an owl, a
puttock, or a herring without a roe, I would not
care: but to be Menelaus,—I would conspire
against destiny. Ask me not what I would be, if I
were not Thersites; for I care not to be the louse
of a lazar, so I were not Menelaus.—Hey-day!
spirits and fires1 note!
Enter Hector, Troilus, Ajax, Agamemnon, Ulysses, Nestor, Menelaus, and Diomed, with Lights.
Agam.
We go wrong, we go wrong.
Ajax.
No, yonder 'tis;
There, where we see the lights.
Hect.
I trouble you.
Ajax.
No, not a whit.
Ulyss.
Here comes himself to guide you.
Enter Achilles.
Achil.
Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, princes all.
Agam.
So now, fair prince of Troy, I bid good night.
Ajax commands the guard to tend on you.
-- 405 --
Hect.
Thanks, and good night, to the Greeks' general.
Men.
Good night, my lord.
Hect.
Good night, sweet lord Menelaus2 note.
Ther.
Sweet draught3 note
: Sweet, quoth 'a! sweet
sink, sweet sewer.
Achil.
Good night, at once, and welcome, both to those
That go, or tarry.
Agam.
Good night.
[Exeunt Agamemnon and Menelaus.
Achil.
Old Nestor tarries; and you too, Diomed,
Keep Hector company an hour or two.
Dio.
I cannot, lord; I have important business,
The tide whereof is now.—Good night, great Hector.
Hect.
Give me your hand.
Ulyss.
Follow his torch, he goes
To Calchas' tent; I'll keep you company.
[Aside to Troilus.
Tro.
Sweet sir, you honour me.
Hect.
And so good night.
[Exit Diomed; Ulysses and Troilus following.
Achil.
Come, come, enter my tent.
[Exeunt Achilles, Hector, Ajax, and Nestor.
Ther.
That same Diomed's a false-hearted rogue,
a most unjust knave;I will no more trust him when
he leers, than I will a serpent when he hisses: he
will spend his mouth, and promise, like Brabler the
hound4 note; but when he performs, astronomers foretell
-- 406 --
it; it is prodigious5 note
, there will come some
change; the sun borrows of the moon, when Diomed
keeps his word. I will rather leave to see Hector,
than not to dog him: they say, he keeps a Trojan
drab6 note, and uses the traitor Calchas' tent: I'll after.
—Nothing but lechery! all incontinent varlets!
[Exit.
James Boswell [1821], The plays and poems of William Shakspeare, with the corrections and illustrations of various commentators: comprehending A Life of the Poet, and an enlarged history of the stage, by the late Edmond Malone. With a new glossarial index (J. Deighton and Sons, Cambridge) [word count] [S10201].
