« ZurückWeiter »
this girl; and what one thing, what another, that I shall leave you one o'these days: And I have a rheum in mine eyes too; and such an ache in my bones, that, unless a man were curs'd, I cannot tell what to think on't.-What says she there?
Tro. Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart; [Tearing the letter.
The effect doth operate another way.—
BETWEEN TROY AND THE GRECIAN CAMP.
Alarums: Excursions. Enter Thersites.
Ther. Now they are clapper-clawing one anther; I'll go look on. That dissembling abominable varlet, Diomed, has got that same scurvy doting foolish young 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 whoremasterly villain, with the sleeve, back to the dissembling luxurious drab, on a sleeveless errand. O' the other side, The policy of those crafty swearing rascals,--that stale old mouse-eaten dry cheese, Nestor; and that same dog-fox, Ulysses, -is not prov'd worth a blackberry:-They set me up, in policy, that mongrel 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 come sleeve, and t'other.
Enter Diomed, Troilus following.
Tro. Fly not; for, shouldst thou take the river Styx,
I would swim after.
Thou dost miscall retire:
Ther. Hold thy whore, Grecian!-now for thy whore, Trojan!-now the sleeve, now the sleeve! [Exeunt Troilus and Diomed, fighting.
Hect. What art thou, Greek? art thou for Hector's match?
Art thou of blood, and honour?
Ther. No, no:-I am a rascal; a scurvy railing knave; a very filthy rogue.
Hect. I do believe thee;-live.
Ther. 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.
Enter Diomed, and a Servant.
Dio. Go, go, my servant, take thou Troilus' horse;
Present the fair steed to my lady Cressid:
I go, my lord.
Agam. Renew, renew! The fierce Polydamus Hath beat down Menon: bastard Margarelon Hath Doreus prisoner;
And stands colossus-wise, waving his beam,
Nest. Go, bear Patroclus' body to Achilles; And bid the snail-pac'd Ajax arm for shame.There is a thousand Hectors in the field:
Now here he fights on Galathe his horse,
And there lacks work; anon, he's there afoot,
That what he will, he does; and does so much,
Ulyss. O, courage, courage, princes! great Achilles
Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance:
Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend,
Engaging and redeeming of himself,
Ajax. Troilus! thou coward Troilus!
Nest. So, so, we draw together.
Ay, there, there.
Where is this Hector?
Come, come, thou boy-queller, show thy face;
Hector! where's Hector? I will none but Hector.
ANOTHER PART OF THE FIELD.
Ajar. Troilus, thou coward Troilus, show thy
Dio. Troilus, I say! where's Troilus?
Dio. I would correct him.
What would'st thou?
Ajax. Were I the general, thou should'st have my office,
Ere that correction:-Troilus, I say! what, Troilus!
Tro. O traitor Diomed!-turn thy false face, thou traitor,
And pay thy life thou ow'st me for my horse!
Ajar. I'll fight with him alone: stand, Diomed. Dio. He is my prize, I will not look upon.