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Plains between Troy and the Grecian camp.
[Alarums: excursions. Enter THERSITES]
THERSITES
Now they are clapper-clawing one another, I'll go look on: that dissembling
abominable varlets 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 Troyan ass, that loves the whore there, might send that
Greekish whore-masterly villain, with the sleeve, back to the dissembling
luxurious drab, of a sleeveless errand. On 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 proved worthy 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 today. Whereupon, the Grecians begin to proclaim barbarism; and
policy grows into an ill opinion. Soft, here comes sleeve, and the other.
[Enter DIOMEDES, TROILUS following]
TROILUS
, ,
, ,
,
Fly not;/ for shouldst^|thou take | the riv|er
Styx,
, ,
I would | swim^aft|er.
DIOMEDES
, ,
,
Thou dost | miscall | retire:
,
, ,
, ,
I do | not fly;| but ad|vanta|geous care
, ,
, ,
,
Withdrew | me from | the odds | of mul|titude:
,
Have at | thee? \\
THERSITES
Hold thy whore Grecian: now for thy whore Troyan: now the sleeve, now the
sleeve.
[Exeunt TROILUS and DIOMEDES, fighting. Enter HECTOR]
HECTOR
What art thou Greek? Art thou for Hector's match? Art thou of blood, and
honor?
THERSITES
No, no: I am a rascal: a scurvy railing knave: a very filthy rogue.
HECTOR
I do believe thee, live.
[Exit]
THERSITES
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
swallowed one another. I would laugh at that miracle-- yet in a sort,
lechery eats itself. I'll seek them.
[Exit]