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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].
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SCENE IV. Between Troy and the Grecian Camp. Alarums: Excursions. Enter Thersites.

Ther.

Now they are clapper-clawing one another; I'll go look on. That dissembling abominable varlet, Diomed, has got that same scurvy doting foolish young knave's sleeve of Troy there, in his helm: I would fain see them meet; that that same young Trojan ass, that loves the whore there, might send that Greekish whoremasterly villain, with the sleeve, back to the dissembling luxurious drab, of a sleeveless errand. O' the other side, The policy of those crafty swearing rascals8 note

,—that stale old mouse-eaten dry cheese, Nestor; and that same dog-fox, Ulysses,—is not proved worth a blackberry: —They set me up, in policy, that mongrel cur, Ajax, against that dog of as bad a kind, Achilles: and now is the cur Ajax prouder than the cur Achilles, and will not arm to-day; whereupon the Grecians begin to proclaim barbarism9 note, and policy grows into an ill opinion. Soft! here comes sleeve, and t'other.

-- 429 --

Enter Diomedes, Troilus following.

Tro.
Fly not; for, shouldst thou take the river Styx,
I would swim after.

Dio.
Thou dost miscall retire:
I do not fly; but advantageous care
Withdrew me from the odds of multitude:
Have at thee!

Ther.

Hold thy whore, Grecian!—now for thy whore, Trojan!—now the sleeve, now the sleeve!

[Exeunt Troilus and Diomedes, fighting. Enter Hector.

Hect.
What art thou, Greek? art thou for Hector's match?
Art thou of blood, and honour1 note




?

Ther.

No, no:—I am a rascal; a scurvy railing knave; a very filthy rogue.

Hect.

I do believe thee;—live.

[Exit

Ther.

God-a-mercy, that thou wilt believe me;

-- 430 --

But a plague break thy neck, for frighting me! What's become of the wenching rogues? I think, they have swallowed one another: I would laugh at that miracle. Yet, in a sort, lechery eats itself. I'll seek them.

[Exit.
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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].
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