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Ajax. I shall cut out your tongue.
Ther. 'Tis no matter; I shall speak as much as thou afterwards.
Patr. No more words, Thersites; peace.
Ther. I will hold my peace when Achilles' brach* bids me, shall I ?
Achil. There's for you, Patroclus.
Ther. I will see you hanged, like clotpoles, ere I come any more to your tents; I will keep where there is wit stirring, and leave the faction of fools.
Exit. Patr. A good riddance. Achil. Marry, this, sir, is proclaimed through all
our host : That Hector, by the first hour of the sun, Will, with a trumpet, 'twixt our tents and Troy, To-morrow morning call some knight to arms, That hath a stomach; and such a one, that dare Maintain-I know not what; 'tis trash : Farewell.
Ajax. Farewell. Who shall answer him?
Achil. I know not, it is put to lottery; otherwise, He knew his man. Ajax. O, meaning you :-I'll go learn more of it.
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 elseAs 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
* Bitch, hound.
than 1, 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 ? Than Hector is : The wound of peace is surety, Surety secure; but modest doubt is call'd The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches To the bottom of the worst. Let Helen go: Since the first sword was drawn about this question, Every tithe soul, 'mongst many thousand dismes*, Hath been as dear as Helen; I mean, of ours : If we have lost so many tenths of ours, To guard a thing not ours; not worth to us, Had it our name, the value of one ten; What merit's in that reason, which denies The yielding of her up? Tro.
Fye, fye, 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 The past-proportion of his infinite ? And buckle-in a waist most fathomless, With spans and inches so diminutive As fears and reasons ? fye, for godly shame! Hel. No marvel, though you bite so sharp at rea
sons, 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. Here are your
Who marvels then, when Helenus beholds
honour Should have hare hearts, would they but fat their
thoughts With this cramm'd reason : reason and respect * Make livers pale, and lustihood deject.
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;
Tro. I take to-day a wife, and my election
viands We do not throw in unrespective sieve f, Because we now are full. It was thought meet, Paris should do some vengeance on the Greeks : Your breath with full consent bellied his sails; The seas and winds (old wranglers) took a truce, And did him service: he touch'd the ports desir'd; * Caution. + Shrink, or fly off.
And, for an old aunt*, whom the Greeks held cap
tive, He brought a Grecian queen, whose youth and fresh
Cas. [Within.] Cry, Trojans, cry!
Enter Cassandra, raving.
Hect. Peace, sister, peace.
* Priam's sister, Hesione.
Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand;
Why, brother Hector,
Par. Else might the world convince I of levity
Paris, you speak Like one besotted on your sweet delights: * Corrupt, change to a worse state.
+ To set it off. Convict.