So to be valiant is no praise at all.

PARIS

Sir, I propose not merely to myself

The pleasures such a beauty brings with it,

But I would have the soil of her fair rape

Wiped off in honourable keeping her.

What treason were it to the ransacked queen,

Disgrace to your great worths, and shame to me,

Now to deliver her possession up

On terms of base compulsion? Can it be

That so degenerate a strain as this

Should once set footing in your generous bosoms?

There’s not the meanest spirit on our party

Without a heart to dare or sword to draw

When Helen is defended; nor none so noble

Whose life were ill bestowed or death unfamed

Where Helen is the subject. Then I say:

Well may we fight for her whom we know well

The world’s large spaces cannot parallel.

HECTOR

Paris and Troilus, you have both said well,

But on the cause and question now in hand

Have glossed but superficially—not much

Unlike young men, whom Aristotle thought

Unfit to hear moral philosophy.

The reasons you allege do more conduce

To the hot passion of distempered blood

Than to make up a free determination

‘Twixt right and wrong; for pleasure and revenge

Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice

Of any true decision. Nature craves

All dues be rendered to their owners. Now,

What nearer debt in all humanity

Than wife is to the husband? If this law

Of nature be corrupted through affection,

And that great minds, of partial indulgence

To their benumbed wills, resist the same,

There is a law in each well-ordered nation

To curb those raging appetites that are

Most disobedient and refractory.

If Helen then be wife to Sparta’s king,

As it is known she is, these moral laws

Of nature and of nations speak aloud

To have her back returned. Thus to persist

In doing wrong extenuates not wrong,

But makes it much more heavy. Hector’s opinion

Is this in way of truth—yet ne’ertheless,

My sprightly brethren, I propend to you

In resolution to keep Helen still;

For ’tis a cause that hath no mean dependence

Upon our joint and several dignities.

TROILUS

Why, there you touched the life of our design.

Were it not glory that we more affected

Than the performance of our heaving spleens,

I would not wish a drop of Trojan blood

Spent more in her defence. But, worthy Hector,

She is a theme 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 Hector would not lose

So rich advantage of a promised glory

As smiles upon the forehead of this action

For the wide world’s revenue.

HECTOR

I am yours,

You valiant offspring of great Priamus.

I have a roisting challenge sent amongst

The dull and factious nobles of the Greeks

Will shriek amazement to their drowsy spirits.

I was advertised their great general slept

Whilst emulation in the army crept;

This I presume will wake him.

⌈Flourish.⌉ Exeunt

2.3 Enter Thersites

THERSITES 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. O worthy satisfaction! Would it were otherwise: that I could beat him whilst he railed 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 till these two undermine it, the walls will stand till they fall of themselves. O thou great thunder-darter of Olympus, forget that thou art Jove, the king of gods; and Mercury, lose all the serpentine craft of thy caduceus, if ye take not that little, little, less than little wit from them that they have—which short-armed ignorance itself knows is so abundant-scarce it will not in circumvention deliver a fly from a spider without drawing their massy irons and cutting the web. After this, the vengeance on the whole camp—or rather, the Neapolitan bone-ache, for that methinks is the curse dependent on those that war for a placket. I have said my prayers, and devil Envy say ‘Amen’.—What ho! My lord Achilles!

Enter Patroclus ⌈at the door to the tent⌉

PATROCLUS Who’s there? Thersites? Good Thersites, come in and rail. ⌈Exit⌉

THERSITES If I could ha’ remembered a gilt counterfeit, thou wouldst not have slipped out of my contemplation; but it is no matter. Thyself upon thyself! The common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in great revenue! Heaven 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 says thou art a fair corpse, I’ll be sworn and sworn upon’t she never shrouded any but lazars.

⌈Enter Patroclus⌉

Amen.—Where’s Achilles?

PATROCLUS What, art thou devout? Wast thou in prayer?

THERSITES Ay. The heavens hear me!

PATROCLUS Amen.

Enter Achilles

ACHILLES Who’s there?

PATROCLUS Thersites, my lord.

ACHILLES Where? Where? O where?—Art thou come? Why, my cheese, my digestion, why hast thou not served thyself into my table so many meals? Come: what’s Agamemnon?

THERSITES Thy commander, Achilles.—Then tell me, Patroclus, what’s Achilles?

PATROCLUS Thy lord, Thersites. Then tell me, I pray thee, what’s Thersites?

THERSITES Thy knower, Patroclus. Then tell me, Patroclus, what art thou?