SCENE IV. Enter Caffandra with her hair about her ears. Caf. Cry, Trojans, cry; lend me ten thousand eyes, And I will fill them with prophetick tears. Het. Peace, fifter, peace. Caf. Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled old, A moiety of that mafs of moan to come: Cry, cry, Troy burns, or elfe let Helen go. [Exit. Het. Now, youthful Troilus, do not the high strains Of divination in our fifter work Some touches of remorfe? Or is your blood So madly hot, that no difcourfe of reafon, Troi. Why, brother Hector, We may not think the juftness of each act Par. Elfe might the world convince of levity 3/As well your counfels, as my undertakings:` For I atteft the Gods, your full confent Gave 3 As well my undertakings, as your counfels : 4 But Gave wings to my propenfion, and cut off Pri. Paris, you speak Like one befotted on your fweet delights; Par. Sir, I propofe not meerly to my felf On terms of base compulfion! can it be, Should once fet footing in your generous bofoms? Het. Paris and Troilus, you have both faid well: The reasons you alledge, do more conduce 5 And... old edit. Theob. emend. To the hot paffion of diftemper'd blood, All dues be render'd to their owners; now Than wife is to the husband? if this law But makes it much more heavy. Hector's opinion My sprightly brethren, I propend to you In refolution to keep Helen ftill; For 'tis a caufe that hath no mean dependance Upon our joint and feveral dignities. Troi. Why, there you touch'd the life of our defign: Were it not glory that we more affected, Than the performance of our heaving fpleens, I would not wifh a drop of Trojan blood Spent more in her defence. But, worthy Hector, A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds, нея. Het. I am yours, You valiant off-fpring of great Priamus ; SCENE V. The Grecian Camp. Enter Therfites folus. [Exeunt. If Ther.HOW now, Therfites? what, loft in the labyrinth of thy fury? fhall the elephant Ajax carry it thus? he beats me, and I rail at him: O worthy fatisfaction! would it were other wife; that I could beat him, whilst he rail'd at me: 'sfoot, I'll learn to conjure and raise devils, but I'll fee fome iffue of my fpiteful execrations. Then there's Achilles, a rare engineer. 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, lofe all the ferpentine craft of thy Caduceus, if thou take not that little, little, lefs than little wit from them that they have; which fhort-arm'd ignorance it felf knows is fo abundant scarce, it will not in circumvention deliver a fly from a spider, without drawing the maffy irons and cutting the web. After this, the vengeance on the whole camp! or rather the bone-ach, for that methinks is the curfe dependant on those that war for a placket. I have faid my prayers, and devil Envy fay Amen! What ho! my Lord Achilles. Enter Patroclus. Pat. Who's there? Therfites? Good Therfites, come in and rail. Ther. Ther. If I could have remember'd a gilt counter, thou could'ft not have flip'd out of my contemplation; but it is no matter, thy felf upon thy felf! The common curfe of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in great revenue! heaven bless thee from a tutor, and difcipline come not near thee! Let thy blood be thy direction 'till thy death! then if the that lays thee out fays thou art a fair coarfe, I'll be fworn and fworn upon't fhe never fhrowded any but Lazars; Amen! Where's Achilles? Pat. What, art thou devout? waft thou in a prayer? Ther. Ay, the heav'ns hear me! Enter Achilles. Achil. Who's there? Pat. Therfites, my Lord. Achil. Where, where? art thou come? why, my cheese, my digeftion- -why haft thou not ferved thy felf up to my table, fo many meals? come, what's Aga memnon? Ther. Thy commander, Achilles; then tell me, Patroclus, what's Achilles? Pat. Thy lord, Therfites: then tell me, I pray thee, what's thy felf? Ther. Thy knower, Patroclus: then tell me, Patroclus, what art thou? Pat. Thou may'ft tell, that know'st. Achil. O tell, tell. Ther. I'll derive the whole queftion. Agamemnon commands Achilles, Achilles is my lord, I am Patroclus's knower, and Patroclus is a fool. Pat. You rascal Ther. Peace, fool, I have not done. Achil. He is a privileg'd man. Proceed, Therfites. Ther. Agamemnon is a fool, Achilles is a fool, Therfites is a fool, and, as aforefaid, Patroclus is a fool. Achil. Derive this; come. Ther. Agamemnon is a fool to offer to command Achil 6 decline les, |