The.

Now they are clapper-clawing one another; I'll go look on. That dissembling abominable varlet, Diomed, has got that same scurvy doating foolish 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 whore-masterly villain, with the sleeve, back to the dissembling luxurious drab, of a sleeveless errand. O'th' other side, The policy of those crafty sneering rascals—that stale old mouse-eaten dry cheese, Nestor; and that same dog fox, Ulysses,—is not prov'd worth a black-berry: They set me up, in policy, that mungril 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 barbarism, and policy grows into an ill opinion. Soft! here comes sleeve, and t'other.

Enter Diomed, Troilus following.

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

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

The.
Hold thy whore, Grecian!—now for thy whore,
Trojan!—now the sleeve, now the sleeve! [Exeunt Diomed and Troilus, fighting. Enter Hector.

Hec.
What art thou, Greek? art thou for Hector's match?
Art thou of blood, and honour?

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

Hec.
I do believe thee; live. [Exit.

The.

God-a-mercy, that thou wilt believe me; but a plague break thy neck, for frighting me! What's become of the wenching rogues? I think, they have swallow'd one another: I would laugh at that miracle. Yet, in a sort, lechery eats itself. I'll seek them§ ^note.