And with his arms out-stretch'd, as he would fly," Grasps-in the comer: Welcome ever smiles, And farewell goes out sighing. O, let not virtue seek Remuneration for the thing it was; For beauty, wit, High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, To envious and calumniating time. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin,That all with one consent, praise new-born gawds,* Though they are made and moulded of things past; And give to dust, that is a little gilt, More laud than gilt o'er-dusted. The present eye praises the present object. LOVE SHOOK OFF BY A SOLDIER. Sweet, rouse yourself: and the weak wanton Cupid Shall from your neck unloose his amorous fold, THERSITES MIMICKING AJAX. Ther. A wonder! Achil. What? [himself. Ther. Ajax goes up and down the field, asking for Ther. He must fight singly to-morrow with Hector: and is so prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling, that he raves in saying nothing. Achil. How can that be? Ther. Why, he stalks up and down like a peacock, a stride, and a stand: ruminates, like a hostess, that hath no arithmetic but her brain to set down her reckoning: bites his lip with a politic regard, as who should say-there were wit in this head, an 'twould out; and so there is; but it lies as coldly in him as fire in a flint, which will not show without knocking. The man's undone for ever; for if Hector break not his neck i' the combat, he'll break it himself in vainglory. He knows not me; I said, Good-morrow, Ajax; and he replies, Thanks, Agamemnon. What * New-fashioned toys. think you of this man, that takes me for the general? He is grown a very land-fish, languageless, a monster. A plague of opinion! a man may wear it on both sides, like a leather jerkin. Achil. Thou must be my ambassador to him, Thersites. Ther. Who, I? why, he'll answer nobody; he professes not answering; speaking is for beggars; he wears his tongue in his arms. I will put on his presence; let Patroclus make demands to me, you shall see the pageant of Ajax. Achil. To him, Patroclus: Tell him,-I humbly desire the valiant Ajax, to invite the most valorous Hector to come unarmed to my tent; and to procure safe conduct for his person, of the magnanimous, and most illustrious, six-or-seven-times-honoured captain general of the Grecian army, Agamemnon. Do this. Patr. Jove bless great Ajax. Ther. Humph! Patr. I come from the worthy Achilles, - Ther. Ha! Patr. Who most humbly desires you to invite Hector to his tent! Ther. Humph! Patr. And to procure safe conduct from Agamem non. Ther. Agamemnon? Patr. Ay, my lord. Ther. Ha! Patr. What say you to't? Ther. God be wi' you, with all my heart. Patr. Your answer, sir. Ther. If to-morrow be a fair day, by eleven o'clock it will go one way or other; however he shall pay for me ere he has me. Patr. Your answer, sir. Ther. Fare you well, with all my heart. will be in him when Hector has knocked out his : brains, I know not: But, I am sure, none; unless the fiddler Apollo get nis sinews to make eatlings* on. Achil. Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight. Ther. Let me bear another to his horse; for that's the more capablet creature. Achil. My mind is troubled like a fountain stirr'd And I myself see not the bottom of it. [Exeunt Achilles and Patroclus. Ther. 'Would the fountain of your mind were clear again, that I might water an ass at it! I had rather be a tick in a sheep, than such a valiant igno rance. ACT IV. LOVERS PARTING IN THE MORNING. Tro. O Cressida! but that the busy day, Cres. Night hath been too brief. Tro. Beshrew the witch! with venomous wights she stays, As tediously as hell: but flies the grasps of love, A LOVER'S FAREWELL. Injurious time now, with a robber's haste, And scants us with a single famish'd kiss: Distasted with the salt of broken|| tears. TROILUS'S CHARACTER OF THE GRECIAN YOUTHS. * Lute-strings made of Catgut. + Intelligent. † Lewd, noisy. § Sealed. || Interrupted. Highly accomplished. i 'They're loving, well compos'd, with gifts of nature flowing, And swelling o'er with arts and exercise; (Which I beseech you, call a virtuous sin,) A TRUMPETER. Now crack thy lungs, and split thy brazen pipe: Blow, villain, till thy sphered bias cheek Out-swell the colic of puff'd Aquilon: Come, stret, h thy chest, and let thy eyes spout blood: Thou blow'st for Hector. DIOMEDES' MANNER OF WALKING. Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait; DESCRIPTION OF CRESSIDA. There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks: her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive* of her body. O, these encounterers, so glib of tongue, That give a coasting welcome ere it comes, And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts To every ticklish reader! set them down For sluttish spoils of opportunity, And daughters of the game. CHARACTER OF TROILUS. The youngest son of Priam, a true knight; Not yet mature, yet matchless: firm of word; Speaking in deeds, and deedlesst in his tongue; Not soon provok'd, nor, being provok'd soon calm'd: His heart and hand both open, and both free; For what he has, he gives, what thinks, he shows; Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty, Nor dignifies an impair thought with breath Manly as Hector, but more dangerous: For Hector, in his blaze of wrath, subscribes§ * Motion. † No boaster. ‡ Unsuitable to his character § Yields, gives way. To tender objects; but he, in heat of action, HECTOR IN BATTLE. I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft, Labouring for destiny, make cruel way, When thou hast hung thy advanced sword i' the air, And I have seen thee pause, and take thy breath, ACHILLES SURVEYING HECTOR. Tell me, you heavens, in which part of his body Shall I destroy him? whether there, there, or there? That I may give the local wound a name; And make distinct the very breach whereout Hector's great spirit flew: Answer me, heavens! ACT V.. RASH VOWS. The gods are deaf to hot and peevisht vows, They are polluted offerings, more abhorr'd Than spotted livers in the sacrifice. HONOUR MORE DEAR THAN LIFE. Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate: Life every man holds dear; but the dear man Holds honour far more precious-dear‡ than life. PITY TO BE DISCARDED IN WAR. For the love of all the gods, Let's leave the hermit pity with our mother; * Fallen. † Foolish.. |