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And that great Minds, of partial Indulgence
T their benummed Wills, resist the same,
There is a Law in each well-ordered Nation,
To curb those raging Appetites that are
Most disobedient and refrađory.
If Helen then be Wife to Sparta's King,
(As it is known fhe is) these moral Laws
Of Nature, and of Nations, speak aloud
To have her back return'd. Thus to perfift
In doing wrong, extenuates not wrong,
But makes it much more heavy. Hečtor's Opinion
Is this in way of truth ; yet ne'er theless,
My spritely Brethren, I propend to you
In resolution to keep Helen still;
For 'tis a Cause that hath no mean dependance,
Upon our joint and several Dignities.

Troi. Why there, you touch'd the Life of our Design:
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 Spur to valiant and magnanimous Deeds,
Whose present Courage may beat down our Foes,
And Fame, in time to come, canonize us.
For I presume, brave He&tor would not lose
So rich advantage of a promis'd Glory,
As smiles upon the Forehead of this A&ion,
For the wide World's Revenues

Heft. I am yours,
You valiant Offspring of great Priamus;
I have a roisting Challenge fent amongst
The dull and factious Nobles of the Greeks;
Will strike Amazement to their drowsie Spirits.
I was advertis'd, their great General llept,
Whilst Emulation in the Army crept :
This I presume will wake him.


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SCENE II. The Grecian Camp.

Enter Therlites folus. How, now, Thersites? what lost in the Labyrinth of thy Fury? Shall the Elephant, Ajax, carry it thus ? He beats me, and I rail at him: 0 worthy Satisfaction ! would it were otherwise ; that I could beat him, whilst he raild at me : 'Sfoot, I'll learn to Conjure and raise Devils, but I'll see some issue of my spiteful Execrations. Then there's Achilles, a rare Engineer. If Troy be not taken ’uill these two undermine it, the Walls will stand 'till they fall of themselves. O ihou great Thunder-darter of Olympus, forget that thou are Jove the King of Gods; and Mercury, lose all the Serpentine Craft of thy Caduceus, if thou take not that little, little, Je's than little, wit fiom them that they have, which Mortăzrm'd Ignorance it self knows, is to abundane scarce, it will not in Circumvention deliver a Fly from a Spider, without drawing the massy Irons and cutting the Web: After this, the Vengeance on the whole Camp, or rather the Bone-ach, for that, methinks, is the Curre deperdant on those that war for a Placket. I have said my Prayers, and Devil, Envy, sy Amen. What ho? my Lord Achilles ?

Exter Patroclus. Patr. Who's there? Therfites. Good Therfites, come in and rail.

Ther. If I could have rem« mbred a gilt Counter, thou would'It not hive slip'd out of my Contemplation, but it is no matter, thy self upon thy felf. The coinmon Curse of Mankind, Forly and Ignorance be thine in great Revenue; Heav'n bless thee from a Tutor, and Discipline come not near thee: Let thy Blood be thy direction 'till thy Death, then if she that lays thee out; lays thou art a fair Coarse, I'll be sworn and sworn upon't, she never throwded any but Luzars, Amen. Where's Achilles ?

Patr. What, art thou devout? wast thou in a Prayer?
Ther. Ay, the Heav'ns hear me.

Enter Achilles.
Achil. Who's there?
Fair. Therfires, my Lord.


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Achil. Were, where? art thou come? why, my Cheese, my Digestion why haft thou not served thy self up to my Table, so many Meals? Come, what's Agamemnon?

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

Patr. Thy Lord, Therfites : then tell me, I pray thee, what's thy felf?

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

Patr. Thou may'st tell, that know'st.
Achil. O tell, tell.

Ther. I'll decline the whole Question. Agamemnon commands Achilles, Achilles is my Lord, I am Patroclus's Knower, and Patroclus is a Fool.

Patr. You Rascal
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 aforesaid, 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, Ther-
sites is a Fool to serve such a Fool, and Patroclus is a Fool

Patr. Why am I a Fool?
Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Nestor, Diomedes, Ajax,

and Chalcas.
Ther. Make that demand to the Creator, it suffices me
thou art. Look you, who comes here?

Achil. Patroclus, I'll speak with no Body: Come in with me, Therfites.

[Exit. Ther. Here is such Patchery, such Jugling, and such Knavery : all the Argument is a Cuckold and a Whore, a good quarrel to draw emulatious Fa&ions, and bleed to Death upon : Now the dry Serpigo on the Subject, and War and Lechery confound all.

Aga. Where is Achilles ?
Pair. Within his Tent, but ill dispos'd, my Lord.

Aga. Let it be known to him that we are here.
He sent our Messengers, and we lay by
Our Appertainments, visiting of him:


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Ulys. He.

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

Patr. I shall so say to him.

Ulys. VVe saw him at the opening of his Tent,
He is not fick.

Ajax. Yes, Lion-sick, 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 thew us the cause. A word, my Lord.

[To Agamemnon.
Nest. VVhat moves Ajax thus to bay at him?
Ulys. Achilles hath inveigled his Fool from him.
Neft. Who, Therfires?

Nést. Theo will Ajax lack Matter, if he have loft his

Ulys. No, you see he is his Argument, that has his Argument, Achilles.

Neft. All the better, their Fra&ion is more our wish thao their Faction; but it was a strong Counsel that a Fool could disunite.

Ulys. The Amity that Wisdom knits not, Folly may eafily untye.

Enter Patroclus.
Here comes Patroclus.

Neft. No Achilles with him?

Ulys. The Elephant hath Joints, but none for Courtelie;
His Legs are Legs for necesity, not for flight.

Patr. Achilles bids me say, he is much forry,
If any thing more thin your Sport and Pleasure,
Did move your Greatness, and this noble State,
To call upon him; he hopes it is no other,
But for your health and your digestion-sake;
An after Dinner's Breath.

Aga. Hear you, Patroclus;
We are too well acquainted with these Answers;
But his evalion wing’d thus swift with scorn,
Cannot outflie our Apprehensions.
Much attribute he hath, and much the reason,
Why we ascribe it to him; yet all his Virtues,
(Not virtuously of his own part beheld)
Do in our Eyes begin to lose their Gloss;
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And like fair Fruit in an unwholsom Dish,
Are like to rot untafted;. go and tell him,
We come to speak with him, and you Mall not sin;
If you do say, we think him over-proud,
And under-honest; in Self-assumption greater
Than in the note of Judgment; and worthier than himself,
Here tend the savage Strangeness he puts or,
Disguise the holy. Strength of their command,
And under write in an observing kind
His humorous predominance; yea, watch
His pettish lines, his ebbs, his flows; as if
The passage and whole carriage of th's A&ion
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 Engige
Not portable, lye under this report.
Bring Adion hither, this cannot go to War:
A stirring Dwarf we do allowance give,
Before a sleeping Gyant; tell him fo.

Pat. I fhall, and bring his answer presently. [Exi.

Aga. In second Voice we'll not be satisfied,
We come to fpcak with him. Olylles, enter you.

[Exit Ulylles. Ajax. What is he more than ano:her? Aga. No more than what he thinks he is.

Ajax, Is he so much? do you not think he thinks himself a better Man than I am?

Aga. No question.
Ajax. Will you subscribe his Thought, and say, he ise

Aga. No, noble Ajax, you are as strong, as valiant, as wise, no lefs 'noble, much more gentle, and altogether more wractable.

Ajax. Why mould a Man be proud ? How dcth 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 Glass, his own Trumpet, his own Chronicle, and whatever Praises it self but in the Deed, devours the Deed in the Praise,

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