xnsmv/testtesttest huggingface dataset:
Thersites: Why, he stalks up and down like a peacock— a stride and a stand; ruminates like an 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 forever, for if Hector break not his neck i’ th’ combat, he’ll break ’t himself in vainglory. He knows not me. I said “ Good morrow, Ajax,” and he replies “ Thanks, Agamemnon.” What think you of this man that takes me for the General? He’s grown a very land-fish, languageless, a monster. A plague of opinion! A man may wear it on both sides, like a leather jerkin.
Thersites: Who, I? Why, he’ll answer nobody. He professes not answering; speaking is for beggars; he wears his tongue in ’s arms. I will put on his presence. Let Patroclus make his demands to me. You shall see the pageant of Ajax.
Thersites: Hum!
Thersites: Ha?
Thersites: Agamemnon?
Thersites: Ha!
Thersites: God b’ wi’ you, with all my heart.
Thersites: If tomorrow be a fair day, by eleven of the clock it will go one way or other. Howsoever, he shall pay for me ere he has me.
Thersites: Fare you well with all my heart.
Thersites: No, but he’s out of tune thus. What music will be in him when Hector has knocked out his brains I know not. But I am sure none, unless the fiddler Apollo get his sinews to make catlings on.
Thersites: Let me bear another to his horse, for that’s the more capable creature.
Thersites: 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 ignorance.
Thersites: Why, thou picture of what thou seemest and idol of idiot-worshippers, here’s a letter for thee.
Thersites: Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy.
Thersites: The surgeon’s box or the patient’s wound.
Thersites: Prithee, be silent, boy. I profit not by thy talk. Thou art said to be Achilles’ male varlet.
Thersites: Why, his masculine whore. Now the rotten diseases of the south, the guts-griping, ruptures, catarrhs, loads o’ gravel in the back, lethargies, cold palsies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten livers, whissing lungs, bladders full of impostume, sciaticas, limekilns i’ th’ palm, incurable bone-ache, and the rivelled fee-simple of the tetter, take and take again such preposterous discoveries.
Thersites: Do I curse thee?
Thersites: No? Why art thou then exasperate, thou idle immaterial skein of sleave-silk, thou green sarsenet flap for a sore eye, thou tassel of a prodigal’s purse, thou? Ah, how the poor world is pestered with such waterflies, diminutives of nature!
Thersites: Finch egg!
Thersites: With too much blood and too little brain, these two may run mad; but if with too much brain and too little blood they do, I’ll be a curer of madmen. Here’s Agamemnon, an honest fellow enough and one that loves quails, but he has not so much brain as earwax. And the goodly transformation of Jupiter there, his brother, the bull— the primitive statue and oblique memorial of cuckolds, a thrifty shoeing-horn in a chain, hanging at his brother’s leg— to what form but that he is should wit larded with malice and malice forced with wit turn him to? To an ass were nothing; he is both ass and ox. To an ox were nothing; he is both ox and ass. To be a dog, a mule, a cat, a fitchew, a toad, a lizard, an owl, a puttock, or a herring without a roe, I would not care; but to be Menelaus! I would conspire against destiny. Ask me not what I would be, if I were not Thersites, for I care not to be the louse of a lazar so I were not Menelaus.
Thersites: Heyday! Sprites and fires!
Thersites: Sweet draught. “ Sweet,” quoth he? Sweet sink, sweet sewer.
Thersites: That same Diomed’s a false-hearted rogue, a most unjust knave. I will no more trust him when he leers than I will a serpent when he hisses. He will spend his mouth and promise like Brabbler the hound, but when he performs, astronomers foretell it; it is prodigious, there will come some change. The sun borrows of the moon when Diomed keeps his word. I will rather leave to see Hector than not to dog him. They say he keeps a Trojan drab and uses the traitor Calchas his tent. I’ll after. Nothing but lechery! All incontinent varlets!
Thersites: And any man may sing her, if he can take her clef. She’s noted.
Thersites: Roguery!
Thersites: A juggling trick: to be secretly open!
Thersites: How the devil Luxury, with his fat rump and potato finger, tickles these together. Fry, lechery, fry!
Thersites: Now the pledge, now, now, now!
Thersites: Now she sharpens. Well said, whetstone.
Thersites: A proof of strength she could not publish more,
Thersites: Unless she said “ My mind is now turned whore.”
Thersites: Will he swagger himself out on ’s own eyes?
Thersites: He’ll tickle it for his concupy.
Thersites: Would I could meet that rogue Diomed! I would croak like a raven; I would bode, I would bode. Patroclus will give me anything for the intelligence of this whore. The parrot will not do more for an almond than he for a commodious drab. Lechery, lechery, still wars and lechery! Nothing else holds fashion. A burning devil take them!
Thersites: Now they are clapper-clawing one another. I’ll go look on. That dissembling abominable varlet, 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 Trojan ass that loves the whore there might send that Greekish whoremasterly villain with the sleeve back to the dissembling luxurious drab, of a sleeveless errand. O’ th’ t’other side, the policy of those crafty swearing rascals— that stale old mouse-eaten dry cheese, Nestor, and that same dog-fox, Ulysses— is proved not worth 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.
Thersites: Soft! Here comes sleeve and t’ other.
Thersites: Hold thy whore, Grecian! Now for thy whore, Trojan! Now the sleeve, now the sleeve!
Thersites: No, no, I am a rascal, a scurvy railing knave, a very filthy rogue.
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.
Thersites: The cuckold and the cuckold-maker are at it. Now, bull! Now, dog! Loo, Paris, loo! Now, my double-horned Spartan! Loo, Paris, loo! The bull has the game. Ware horns, ho!
Thersites: What art thou?
Thersites: I am a bastard too. I love bastards. I am bastard begot, bastard instructed, bastard in mind, bastard in valor, in everything illegitimate. One bear will not bite another, and wherefore should one bastard? Take heed: the quarrel’s most ominous to us. If the son of a whore fight for a whore, he tempts judgment. Farewell, bastard.
Achilles: Why, how now, Ajax? Wherefore do you thus?— How now, Thersites? What’s the matter, man?
Achilles: Ay, what’s the matter?
Achilles: So I do. What’s the matter?
Achilles: Well, why, so I do.
Achilles: I know that, fool.
Achilles: What?
Achilles: Nay, good Ajax.
Achilles: Nay, I must hold you.
Achilles: Peace, fool!
Achilles: Will you set your wit to a fool’s?
Achilles: What’s the quarrel?
Achilles: Your last service was suff’rance; ’twas not voluntary. No man is beaten voluntary. Ajax was here the voluntary, and you as under an impress.
Achilles: What, with me too, Thersites?
Achilles: What? What?
Achilles: There’s for you, Patroclus.
Achilles: Marry, this, sir, is proclaimed through all our host:
Achilles: That Hector, by the fifth hour of the sun,
Achilles: Will with a trumpet ’twixt our tents and Troy
Achilles: Tomorrow morning call some knight to arms
Achilles: That hath a stomach, and such a one that dare
Achilles: Maintain— I know not what; ’tis trash. Farewell.
Achilles: I know not. ’Tis put to lott’ry. Otherwise,
Achilles: He knew his man.
Achilles: Who’s there?
Achilles: Where? Where? O, where?
Achilles: Art thou come? Why, my cheese, my digestion, why hast thou not served thyself in to my table so many meals? Come, what’s Agamemnon?
Achilles: O tell, tell.
Achilles: He is a privileged man.— Proceed, Thersites.
Achilles: Derive this. Come.
Achilles: Patroclus, I’ll speak with nobody.— Come in with me, Thersites.
Achilles: What, comes the General to speak with me?
Achilles: You know my mind: I’ll fight no more ’gainst Troy.
Achilles: No.
Achilles: Good day, good day.
Achilles: What, does the cuckold scorn me?
Achilles: Good morrow, Ajax.
Achilles: Good morrow.
Achilles: What mean these fellows? Know they not Achilles?
Achilles: What, am I poor of late?
Achilles: ’Tis certain, greatness, once fall’n out with Fortune,
Achilles: Must fall out with men too. What the declined is
Achilles: He shall as soon read in the eyes of others
Achilles: As feel in his own fall, for men, like butterflies,
Achilles: Show not their mealy wings but to the summer,
Achilles: And not a man, for being simply man,
Achilles: Hath any honor, but honor for those honors
Achilles: That are without him— as place, riches, and favor,
Achilles: Prizes of accident as oft as merit,
Achilles: Which, when they fall, as being slippery slanders,
Achilles: The love that leaned on them, as slippery too,
Achilles: Doth one pluck down another and together
Achilles: Die in the fall. But ’tis not so with me.
Achilles: Fortune and I are friends. I do enjoy,
Achilles: At ample point, all that I did possess,
Achilles: Save these men’s looks, who do, methinks, find out
Achilles: Something not worth in me such rich beholding
Achilles: As they have often given. Here is Ulysses.
Achilles: I’ll interrupt his reading.— How now, Ulysses?
Achilles: What are you reading?
Achilles: This is not strange, Ulysses.
Achilles: The beauty that is borne here in the face
Achilles: The bearer knows not, but commends itself
Achilles: To others’ eyes; nor doth the eye itself,
Achilles: That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself,
Achilles: Not going from itself, but eye to eye opposed
Achilles: Salutes each other with each other’s form.
Achilles: For speculation turns not to itself
Achilles: Till it hath traveled and is mirrored there
Achilles: Where it may see itself. This is not strange at all.
Achilles: I do believe it, for they passed by me
Achilles: As misers do by beggars, neither gave to me
Achilles: Good word nor look. What, are my deeds forgot?
Achilles: Of this my privacy,
Achilles: I have strong reasons.
Achilles: Ha? Known?
Achilles: Shall Ajax fight with Hector?
Achilles: I see my reputation is at stake;
Achilles: My fame is shrewdly gored.
Achilles: Go call Thersites hither, sweet Patroclus.
Achilles: I’ll send the fool to Ajax and desire him
Achilles: T’ invite the Trojan lords after the combat
Achilles: To see us here unarmed. I have a woman’s longing,
Achilles: An appetite that I am sick withal,
Achilles: To see great Hector in his weeds of peace,
Achilles: To talk with him, and to behold his visage,
Achilles: Even to my full of view.
Achilles: A labor saved.
Achilles: How so?
Achilles: How can that be?
Achilles: Thou must be my ambassador to him, Thersites.
Achilles: 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-honored captain general of the Grecian army, Agamemnon, et cetera. Do this.
Achilles: Why, but he is not in this tune, is he?
Achilles: Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight.
Achilles: My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirred,
Achilles: And I myself see not the bottom of it.
Achilles: ’Tis but early days.
Achilles: I’ll take that winter from your lips, fair lady.
Achilles: Achilles bids you welcome.
Achilles: The Trojan’s trumpet.
Achilles: But securely done,
Achilles: A little proudly, and great deal misprizing
Achilles: The knight opposed.
Achilles: If not Achilles, nothing.
Achilles: A maiden battle, then? O, I perceive you.
Achilles: I shall forestall thee, Lord Ulysses, thou!—
Achilles: Now, Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee;
Achilles: I have with exact view perused thee, Hector,
Achilles: And quoted joint by joint.
Achilles: I am Achilles.
Achilles: Behold thy fill.
Achilles: Thou art too brief. I will the second time,
Achilles: As I would buy thee, view thee limb by limb.
Achilles: Tell me, you heavens, in which part of his body
Achilles: Shall I destroy him— whether there, or there, or there—
Achilles: That I may give the local wound a name
Achilles: And make distinct the very breach whereout
Achilles: Hector’s great spirit flew. Answer me, heavens!
Achilles: I tell thee, yea.
Achilles: Dost thou entreat me, Hector?
Achilles: Tomorrow do I meet thee, fell as death;
Achilles: Tonight all friends.
Achilles: I’ll heat his blood with Greekish wine tonight,
Achilles: Which with my scimitar I’ll cool tomorrow.
Achilles: Patroclus, let us feast him to the height.
Achilles: How now, thou core of envy?
Achilles: Thou crusty botch of nature, what’s the news?
Achilles: From whence, fragment?
Achilles: My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite
Achilles: From my great purpose in tomorrow’s battle.
Achilles: Here is a letter from Queen Hecuba,
Achilles: A token from her daughter, my fair love,
Achilles: Both taxing me and gaging me to keep
Achilles: An oath that I have sworn. I will not break it.
Achilles: Fall, Greeks; fail, fame; honor, or go or stay;
Achilles: My major vow lies here; this I’ll obey.
Achilles: Come, come, Thersites, help to trim my tent.
Achilles: This night in banqueting must all be spent.
Achilles: Away, Patroclus.
Achilles: Welcome, brave Hector. Welcome, princes all.
Achilles: Good night and welcome, both at once, to those
Achilles: That go or tarry.
Achilles: Old Nestor tarries, and you too, Diomed.
Achilles: Keep Hector company an hour or two.
Achilles: Come, come, enter my tent.
Achilles: Where is this Hector?—
Achilles: Come, come, thou boy-queller, show thy face!
Achilles: Know what it is to meet Achilles angry.
Achilles: Hector! Where’s Hector? I will none but Hector.
Achilles: Now do I see thee. Ha! Have at thee, Hector!
Achilles: I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Trojan.
Achilles: Be happy that my arms are out of use.
Achilles: My rest and negligence befriends thee now,
Achilles: But thou anon shalt hear of me again;
Achilles: Till when, go seek thy fortune.
Achilles: Come here about me, you my Myrmidons.
Achilles: Mark what I say. Attend me where I wheel.
Achilles: Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath,
Achilles: And, when I have the bloody Hector found,
Achilles: Empale him with your weapons round about.
Achilles: In fellest manner execute your arms.
Achilles: Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye.
Achilles: It is decreed Hector the great must die.
Achilles: Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set,
Achilles: How ugly night comes breathing at his heels.
Achilles: Even with the vail and dark’ning of the sun
Achilles: To close the day up, Hector’s life is done.
Achilles: Strike, fellows, strike! This is the man I seek.
Achilles: So, Ilium, fall thou next! Come, Troy, sink down!
Achilles: Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone.
Achilles: On, Myrmidons, and cry you all amain
Achilles: “ Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.”
Achilles: Hark! A retire upon our Grecian part.
Achilles: The dragon wing of night o’erspreads the Earth
Achilles: And, stickler-like, the armies separates.
Achilles: My half-supped sword, that frankly would have fed,
Achilles: Pleased with this dainty bait, thus goes to bed.
Achilles: Come, tie his body to my horse’s tail;
Achilles: Along the field I will the Trojan trail.
Patroclus: Good words, Thersites.
Patroclus: No more words, Thersites. Peace.
Patroclus: A good riddance.
Patroclus: Who’s there? Thersites? Good Thersites, come in and rail.
Patroclus: What, art thou devout? Wast thou in prayer?
Patroclus: Amen.
Patroclus: Thersites, my lord.
Patroclus: Thy lord, Thersites. Then, tell me, I pray thee, what’s Thersites?
Patroclus: Thou must tell that knowest.
Patroclus: You rascal!
Patroclus: Why am I a fool?
Patroclus: Within his tent, but ill-disposed, my lord.
Patroclus: I shall say so to him.
Patroclus: Achilles bids me say he is much sorry
Patroclus: If anything more than your sport and pleasure
Patroclus: Did move your greatness and this noble state
Patroclus: To call upon him. He hopes it is no other
Patroclus: But for your health and your digestion sake,
Patroclus: An after-dinner’s breath.
Patroclus: I shall, and bring his answer presently.
Patroclus: They pass by strangely. They were used to bend,
Patroclus: To send their smiles before them to Achilles,
Patroclus: To come as humbly as they use to creep
Patroclus: To holy altars.
Patroclus: To this effect, Achilles, have I moved you.
Patroclus: A woman impudent and mannish grown
Patroclus: Is not more loathed than an effeminate man
Patroclus: In time of action. I stand condemned for this.
Patroclus: They think my little stomach to the war,
Patroclus: And your great love to me, restrains you thus.
Patroclus: Sweet, rouse yourself, and the weak wanton Cupid
Patroclus: Shall from your neck unloose his amorous fold
Patroclus: And, like a dewdrop from the lion’s mane,
Patroclus: Be shook to air.
Patroclus: Ay, and perhaps receive much honor by him.
Patroclus: O, then, beware!
Patroclus: Those wounds heal ill that men do give themselves.
Patroclus: Omission to do what is necessary
Patroclus: Seals a commission to a blank of danger,
Patroclus: And danger, like an ague, subtly taints
Patroclus: Even then when they sit idly in the sun.
Patroclus: Jove bless great Ajax.
Patroclus: I come from the worthy Achilles—
Patroclus: Who most humbly desires you to invite Hector to his tent—
Patroclus: And to procure safe-conduct from Agamemnon.
Patroclus: Ay, my lord.
Patroclus: What say you to ’t?
Patroclus: Your answer, sir.
Patroclus: But that’s no argument for kissing now,
Patroclus: For thus popped Paris in his hardiment
Patroclus: And parted thus you and your argument.
Patroclus: The first was Menelaus’ kiss; this mine.
Patroclus: Patroclus kisses you.
Patroclus: Paris and I kiss evermore for him.
Patroclus: The Trojan’s trumpet.
Patroclus: Here comes Thersites.
Patroclus: Who keeps the tent now?
Patroclus: Well said, adversity. And what need these tricks?
Patroclus: “ Male varlet,” you rogue! What’s that?
Patroclus: Why, thou damnable box of envy, thou, what means thou to curse thus?
Patroclus: Why, no, you ruinous butt, you whoreson indistinguishable cur, no.
Patroclus: Out, gall!
Priam: After so many hours, lives, speeches spent,
Priam: Thus once again says Nestor from the Greeks:
Priam: “ Deliver Helen, and all damage else—
Priam: As honor, loss of time, travel, expense,
Priam: Wounds, friends, and what else dear that is consumed
Priam: In hot digestion of this cormorant war—
Priam: Shall be struck off.”— Hector, what say you to ’t?
Priam: What noise? What shriek is this?
Priam: Paris, you speak
Priam: Like one besotted on your sweet delights.
Priam: You have the honey still, but these the gall.
Priam: So to be valiant is no praise at all.
Priam: Come, Hector, come. Go back.
Priam: Thy wife hath dreamt, thy mother hath had visions,
Priam: Cassandra doth foresee, and I myself
Priam: Am like a prophet suddenly enrapt
Priam: To tell thee that this day is ominous.
Priam: Therefore, come back.
Priam: Ay, but thou shalt not go.
Priam: Farewell. The gods with safety stand about thee!
Hector: Though no man lesser fears the Greeks than I
Hector: As far as toucheth my particular,
Hector: Yet, dread Priam,
Hector: There is no lady of more softer bowels,
Hector: More spongy to suck in the sense of fear,
Hector: More ready to cry out “ Who knows what follows?”
Hector: Than Hector is. The wound of peace is surety,
Hector: Surety secure; but modest doubt is called
Hector: The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches
Hector: To th’ bottom of the worst. Let Helen go.
Hector: Since the first sword was drawn about this question,
Hector: Every tithe soul, ’mongst many thousand dismes,
Hector: Hath been as dear as Helen; I mean, of ours.
Hector: If we have lost so many tenths of ours
Hector: To guard a thing not ours— nor worth to us,
Hector: Had it our name, the value of one ten—
Hector: What merit’s in that reason which denies
Hector: The yielding of her up?
Hector: Brother, she is not worth what she doth cost
Hector: The keeping.
Hector: But value dwells not in particular will;
Hector: It holds his estimate and dignity
Hector: As well wherein ’tis precious of itself
Hector: As in the prizer. ’Tis mad idolatry
Hector: To make the service greater than the god;
Hector: And the will dotes that is attributive
Hector: To what infectiously itself affects
Hector: Without some image of th’ affected merit.
Hector: It is Cassandra.
Hector: Peace, sister, peace!
Hector: Now, youthful Troilus, do not these high strains
Hector: Of divination in our sister work
Hector: Some touches of remorse? Or is your blood
Hector: So madly hot that no discourse of reason
Hector: Nor fear of bad success in a bad cause
Hector: Can qualify the same?
Hector: Paris and Troilus, you have both said well,
Hector: And on the cause and question now in hand
Hector: Have glozed— but superficially, not much
Hector: Unlike young men, whom Aristotle thought
Hector: Unfit to hear moral philosophy.
Hector: The reasons you allege do more conduce
Hector: To the hot passion of distempered blood
Hector: Than to make up a free determination
Hector: ’Twixt right and wrong, for pleasure and revenge
Hector: Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice
Hector: Of any true decision. Nature craves
Hector: All dues be rendered to their owners. Now,
Hector: What nearer debt in all humanity
Hector: Than wife is to the husband? If this law
Hector: Of nature be corrupted through affection,
Hector: And that great minds, of partial indulgence
Hector: To their benumbèd wills, resist the same,
Hector: There is a law in each well-ordered nation
Hector: To curb those raging appetites that are
Hector: Most disobedient and refractory.
Hector: If Helen, then, be wife to Sparta’s king,
Hector: As it is known she is, these moral laws
Hector: Of nature and of nations speak aloud
Hector: To have her back returned. Thus to persist
Hector: In doing wrong extenuates not wrong,
Hector: But makes it much more heavy. Hector’s opinion
Hector: Is this in way of truth; yet, ne’ertheless,
Hector: My sprightly brethren, I propend to you
Hector: In resolution to keep Helen still,
Hector: For ’tis a cause that hath no mean dependence
Hector: Upon our joint and several dignities.
Hector: I am yours,
Hector: You valiant offspring of great Priamus.
Hector: I have a roisting challenge sent amongst
Hector: The dull and factious nobles of the Greeks
Hector: Will strike amazement to their drowsy spirits.
Hector: I was advertised their great general slept,
Hector: Whilst emulation in the army crept.
Hector: This, I presume, will wake him.
Hector: Why, then, will I no more.—
Hector: Thou art, great lord, my father’s sister’s son,
Hector: A cousin-german to great Priam’s seed.
Hector: The obligation of our blood forbids
Hector: A gory emulation ’twixt us twain.
Hector: Were thy commixtion Greek and Trojan so
Hector: That thou couldst say “ This hand is Grecian all,
Hector: And this is Trojan; the sinews of this leg
Hector: All Greek, and this all Troy; my mother’s blood
Hector: Runs on the dexter cheek, and this sinister
Hector: Bounds in my father’s,” by Jove multipotent,
Hector: Thou shouldst not bear from me a Greekish member
Hector: Wherein my sword had not impressure made
Hector: Of our rank feud. But the just gods gainsay
Hector: That any drop thou borrowd’st from thy mother,
Hector: My sacred aunt, should by my mortal sword
Hector: Be drained. Let me embrace thee, Ajax.
Hector: By him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms!
Hector: Hector would have them fall upon him thus.
Hector: Cousin, all honor to thee!
Hector: Not Neoptolemus so mirable—
Hector: On whose bright crest Fame with her loud’st “ Oyez”