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What nearer debt in all humanity,
Than wife is to the hufband? if this law
Of nature be corrupted through affection,
And that great minds, of partial indulgence
To their benummed wills, refift the fame ;
There is a law in each well-order'd nation,
To curb thofe raging appetites that are
Most disobedient and refractory.

If Helen then be wife to Sparta's King,
(As it is known fhe is) thefe moral laws
Of nature, and of nations, fpeak aloud
To have her back return'd. Thus to perfift
In doing wrong, extenuates not wrong,

But makes it much more heavy. Hector's opinion
Is this in way of truth; yet ne'ertheless,
My fprightly brethren, I propend to you
In refolution to keep Helen ftill;

For 'tis a caufe that hath no mean dependance

Upon our joint and several dignities.

Troi. Why, there you touch'd the life of our defigns :

Were it not glory that we more affected,

Than the performance of our heaving spleens,

I would not with a drop of Trojan blood

Spent more in her defence. But, worthy Hector,
She is a theam of honour and renown,
A fpur to valiant and magnanimous deeds,
Whose present courage may beat down our foes,
And fame, in time to come, canonize us.
For I prefume brave Hector would not lofe
So rich advantage of a promis'd glory,
As fmiles upon the forehead of this action,
For the wide world's revenue.

Hect. I am yours,

You valiant off-fpring of great Priamus z
I have a roifting challenge fent amongst
"The dull and factious Nobles of the Greeks,
Will ftrike amazement to their drowfie fpirits,
I was advertis'd their great General flept,
This I prefume will wake him,

[Exeunt SCENE

SCENE V. The Grecian Camp.
Enter Therfites folus.

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 otherwife; that I could beat him, whilft he rail'd at me; 'sfoot, I'll learn to conjure and raise devils, but I'll fee some iffue of my fpiteful execrations. Then there's Achilles, a rare engineer. If Troy be not taken 'till thefe two undermine it, the walls will ftand '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 short-arm'd ignorance it felf knows is fo abundant scarce, it will not in circumvention deliver a fly from a fpider, 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. If I could have have remember'd a gilt counter, thou could'st 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 the never fhrowded any but Lazars z 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 Agamemnon ? Ther. Thy commander, Achilles; then tell me, Patrotlus, what's Achilles?

Pat. Thy lord, Therfites: then tell me, what's thy felf?

pray thee, Ther. Thy knower, Patroclus: then tell me, Patroclus, what art thou?

Pat. Thou may'ft tell, that know'ft.

Achil. O tell, tell.

Ther. I'll derive the whole queftion. Agamemnon com→ mands Achilles, Achilles is my lord, I am Patroclus's knower, and Patroclus is a fool.

Pat. You rafcal

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.

Acbil. Derive this; come.

Ther. Agamemnon is a fool to offer to command Achilles, Achilles is a fool to be commanded of Agamemnon, Therfites is a fool to ferve fuch a fool, and Patroclus is a fool pofitive.

Pat. Why am I a fool ?

Ther. Make that demand to thy creator; it fuffices me thou art.

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SCENE VI.

Enter Agamemnon, Ulyffes, Neftor, Diomedes, Ajax, and Chalcas. Look you, who comes here?

Acbil. Patroclus, I'll fpeak with no body; come in with me, Therfites.

[Exits Ther. Here is fuch patchery, fuch jugling, and fuch kna very all the argument is a cuckold and a whore, a good quarrel to draw emulous factions, and bleed to death upon : now the dry Serpigo on the subject! and war and lechery confound all!

Aga. Where is Achilles ?
Pat. Within his tent, but ill difpos'd, my Lord.

[Exit.

Aga

Aga. Let it be known to him that we are here, He fent us meffengers, and we lay by

Our appertainments, vifiting of him:

Let him be told fo, left perchance he think
We dare not move the queftion of our place,
Or know not what we are.

Pat. I fhall fo say to him.

Ulyf. We faw him at the opening of his tent, He is not fick.

[Exit

Ajax. Yes, lion-fick, fick of a proud heart: you may call it melancholy, if you will favour the man; but, by my head, 'tis pride; but why, why?.

the caufe. A word, my Lord.

- let him fhew us

[To Agamem,

Neft. What moves Ajax thus to bay at him?

Ulyf. Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him.
Neft. Who? Therfites?

Ulyf. He.

Neft. Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have loft his argument.

Ulyf. No, you fee he is his argument, that has his argument, Achilles.

Neft. All the better, their fraction is more our with than their faction; but it was a ftrong counsel that a fool could difunite.

Ulyf. The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untye.

SCENE VII.

Here comes Patroclus.

Neft. No Achilles with him?

Enter Patroclus.

Ulyf. The elephant hath joints, but none for courtefie § His legs are for neceffity, not flexure.

Pat. Achilles bids me fay, he is much forry,
If any thing more than your fport and pleasure,
Did move your greatnefs, and this noble state,
To call on him; he hopes it is no other,
But for your health and your digeftion-fake
An after-dinner's breath.

Aga. Hear you, Patroclus

We are too well acquainted with thefe anfwers:
But his evasion wing'd thus fwift with scorn,

Cannot

Cannot outflie our apprehenfions.

Much attribute he hath, and much the reafon
Why we afcribe it to him; yet his virtues
(Not virtuously on his own part beheld)
Do in our eyes begin to lose their glofs;
And like fair fruit in an unwholsome dish,
Are like to rot untafted. Go and tell him,
We come to speak with him; you shall not fin
If you do fay we think him over-proud,
In felf-affumption greater than in note

Of judgment: fay, men worthier than himself
Here tend the favage ftrangeness he puts on,
Disguise the holy ftrength of their command,
And undergo in an obferving kind

His humorous predominance; yea, watch
His pettifh lunes, his ebbs and flows; as if
The paffage and whole carriage of this action
Rode on his tide. Go tell him this, and add,
That if he over-hold his price fo much,
We'll none of him; but let him, like an engine
Not portable, lye under this report,
Bring action bither, this can't go to war :
A ftirring dwarf we do allowance give,
Before a fleeping giant; tell him fo.

Pat. I fhall, and bring his anfwer presently.
Aga. In fecond voice we'll not be fatisfied;
We come to fpeak with him.. Ulyffes, enter.
Ajax. What is he more than another?
Aga. No more than what he thinks he is,

Exil

[Exit Uly!

Ajax. Is he fo much? do you not think he thinks himfelf a better man than I am?

Aga. No question.

Ajax. Will you fubfcribe his thought, and fay he is?

Aga. No, noble Ajax, you are as ftrong, as valiant, as wife, no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether more tractable.

Ajax. Why fhould a man be proud? how doth pride grow? I know not what it is.

Aga. Your mind is clearer, Ajax, and your virtues the fairer; he that is proud eats up himself, Pride is his own

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