engineer. If Troy be not taken till these two un. dermine it, the walls will ftand till they fall of themfelves. O thou great thunder-darter of Olym pus, 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, less than little wit from them that they have; which fhort-armed ignorance itself knows is fo abundant fcarce, 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 thofe 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 remembered a gilt counter, thou couldst not have flipped out of my contemplation; but it is no matter, thyself upon thyfelf! The common curfe of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in great revenue! Heaven blefs thee from a tutor, and difcipline come not near thee! Let thy blood be thy direction till thy death; then if fhe, that lays thee out, fays that thou art a fair. corfe, 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 prayer?

Ther. Ay, the heavens hear me !

Enter ACHILLES.

Achil. Who's there!

Pat. Therfites, my Lord..

Achil. Where, where? art thou come? why, my cheefe, my digeilion-why haft thou not ferved thyfelf up to my table, fo many meals? come, what's Agamemnon!

Ther. Thy commander, Achilles; then tell me Patroclus, what's Achilles?

Pat. Thy Lord, Therfites: then tell me, I pray

thee, what's thyself?

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

Pat. Thou mayeft tell, that knoweft.

Achil. O tell, tell.

Ther. I'll decline the whole queftion.

Pa

Aga

memnon 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 privileged 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 Achilles, Achilles is a fool to be commanded of Agamemnon, Therfites is a fool to serve such a fool, and Patroclus is a fool pofitive.

Pat. Why am I a fool?

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

Enter AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, NESTOR, DIOMEDES, AJAX, and CALCHAS.

Look you, who comes here?

Achil. Patroclus, I'll fpeak with no body: come

in with me, Therfites.

LExit.

Ther. Here is fuch patchery, fuch juggling, and. fuch knavery: 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 fubject, and war and lechery confound all! [Ex. Aga. Where is Achilles?

Pat. Within his tent, but ill difpofed, my Lord.
Aga. Let it be known to him that we are here..
He fhent our meffengers, and we lay by (22)
Our appertainments, vifiting of him:

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

Pat. I fhall fo fay to him.

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

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?-let him fhew us the caufe. A word, my Lord.

[To Agamemnon. Neft. What moves Ajax thus to bay at him? Ulyf. Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him. (21) He fent our messengers; Who fent, in the name of accuracy? What did Achilles fend the meffengers, who were fent by Agamemnon? I make no doubt but the Poet

wrote;

He fhent our meffengers;

i. e. rebuked, ill-treated, rated out of his prefence. As in. Antony, Auguftus complains of the like treatment from that Prince;

Did pocket up my letters, and with taunts

Did gibe my miffives out of audience.

The word het, difgraced, fhamed, (from ải xuvlòs, as fome. etymologifts tell us ;) is frequent both in Chaucer and Spenfer; and occurs more than once again in our Author.

Clown. Alas, sir, be patient. What fay you, Sir? I am fhent for fpeaking to you. Twelfth Night.

How in my words foever he be fhent,
To give them feals never my foul confent.

Hamlet,

Neft. Who, Therfites?

Ulyf. He.

Neft. Then will Ajax lack matter, if he has 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 strong counsel that a fool could difunite.

Ulf. The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may eafily unty.

Enter PATROCLUS.

Here comes Patroclus.

Neft. No Achilles with him?

Uly. The elephant hath joints, but none for courHis legs are for neceffity, not flexure.

[tefy; 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 digestion fake; An after dinner's breath.

Aga. Hear you, Patroclus;

We are too well acquainted with these answers;
But his evafion, winged thus fwift with fcorn,
Cannot outfly our apprehenfions.

Much attribute he hath, and much the reafon
Why we afcribe it to him; yet all his virtues
(Not virtuously on his own part beheld)
Do in our eyes begin to lose their glofs;
And, like fair fruit in an unwholfome difh,
Go and tell him

Are like to rot untasted.

We come to speak with him; and you fhall 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 ftrangenefs he puts on,
Difguife the holy itrength of their command,
And undergo in an obferving kind

His humorous predominance; yea, watch
His courfe and times, 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 so much,
We'll none of him; but let him, like an engine
Not portable, ly under this report,

Bring action hither, 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 answer prefently. [Ex. Aga. In fecond voice we'll not be fatisfied, We come to speak with him. Ulyffes, enter. [Exit Ulyffes. Ajax. What is he more than another? Aga. No more than what he thinks he is. Ajax. Is he fo much? do you not think he thinks himself a better man than I am?

Aga. No queftion.

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

Aga. No, noble Ajax, you are as strong, as va liant, as wife, no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether more tractable.

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

ga. Your mind is clearer, Ajax, and your virtues the fairer: he that is proud, eats up himfelf. Pride is his own glafs, his own trumpet, his own chronicle; and whatever praifes itfelf but in the deed, devours the deed in the praise.