Ther. Mars his idiot! do, rudeness; do, camel; do, do. Enter Achilles and Patroclus. Achil. Why, how now, Ajax? wherefore do you thus? How now, Thersites? what's the matter, man? Ther. Nay, look upon him. Achil. So I do; What's the matter? Ther. But yet you look not well upon whosoever you take him to be, he is Ajax. Achil. I know that, fool. him: for, Ther. Ay, but that fool knows not himself. Ther. Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters! his evasions have ears thus long. I have bobb'd his brain, more than he has beat my bones: I will buy nine sparrows for a penny, and his pia mater is not worth the ninth part of a sparrow. This lord, Achilles, Ajax,-who wears his wit in his belly, and his guts in his head,-I'll tell you what I say of him. Achil. What? Ther. I say, this Ajax Achil. Nay, good Ajax. [Ajax offers to strike him, Achilles interposes. Ther. Has not so much wit- Achil. Nay, I must hold you. SCENE II. TROY. A ROOM IN PRIAM'S PALACE. Enter Priam, Hector, Troilus, Paris, and Helenus. Pri. After so many hours, lives, speeches spent, Thus once again says Nestor from the Greeks; Deliver Helen, and all damage else— As honour, loss of time, travel, expence, Wounds, friends, and what else dear that is consum'd In hot digestion of this cormorant war,— Shall be struck off:-Hector, what say you to't? Hect. Though no man lesser fears the Greeks than I, As far as toucheth my particular, yet, Dread Priam, There is no lady of more softer bowels, More spungy to suck in the sense of fear, More ready to cry out-Who knows what follows? Since the first sword was drawn about this question, If we have lost so many tenths of ours, To guard a thing not ours; not worth to us, Tro. Fie, fie, my brother! Weigh you the worth and honour of a king, So great as our dread father, in a scale Of common ounces? will you with counters sum And buckle-in a waist most fathomless, As fears and reasons? fie, for godly shame! Hel. No marvel, though you bite so sharp at reasons, You are so empty of them. Should not our father Bear the great sway of his affairs with reasons, Because your speech hath none, that tells him so? Tro. You are for dreams and slumbers, brother priest, You fur your gloves with reason. reasons: Here are your You know, an enemy intends you harm; Or like a star dis-orb'd?-Nay, if we talk of rea son," Let's shut our gates, and sleep: Manhood and ho nour Should have hare hearts, would they but fat their thoughts With this cramm'd reason: reason and respect Hect. Brother, she is not worth what she doth cost The holding. Tro. What is aught, but as 'tis valued? Hect. But value dwells not in particular will; To blench from this, and to stand firm by honour: We do not throw in unrespective sieve, Because we now are full. It was thought meet, He brought a Grecian queen, whose youth and freshness Wrinkles Apollo's, and makes pale the morning. The issue of your proper wisdoms rate; Cas. [Within.] Cry, Trojans, cry! Pri. What noise? what shriek is this? Tro. 'Tis our mad sister, I do know her voice. Cas. [Within.] Cry, Trojans! Hect. It is Cassandra. Enter Cassandra, raving. Cas. Cry, Trojans, cry! lend me ten thousand eyes, And I will fill them with prophetick tears. Hect. Peace, sister, peace. Cas. Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled .elders, Soft infancy, that nothing can'st but cry, |