Sämtliche Werke von Shakespeare in einem Band: Zweisprachige Ausgabe (Deutsch-Englisch). William Shakespeare
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very breach whereout
Hector’s great spirit flew. Answer me, heavens.
HECTOR.
It would discredit the blest gods, proud man,
To answer such a question. Stand again.
Think’st thou to catch my life so pleasantly
As to prenominate in nice conjecture
Where thou wilt hit me dead?
ACHILLES.
I tell thee yea.
HECTOR.
Wert thou an oracle to tell me so,
I’d not believe thee. Henceforth guard thee well;
For I’ll not kill thee there, nor there, nor there;
But, by the forge that stithied Mars his helm,
I’ll kill thee everywhere, yea, o’er and o’er.
You wisest Grecians, pardon me this brag.
His insolence draws folly from my lips;
But I’ll endeavour deeds to match these words,
Or may I never—
AJAX.
Do not chafe thee, cousin;
And you, Achilles, let these threats alone
Till accident or purpose bring you to’t.
You may have every day enough of Hector,
If you have stomach. The general state, I fear,
Can scarce entreat you to be odd with him.
HECTOR.
I pray you let us see you in the field;
We have had pelting wars since you refus’d
The Grecians’ cause.
ACHILLES.
Dost thou entreat me, Hector?
Tomorrow do I meet thee, fell as death;
Tonight all friends.
HECTOR.
Thy hand upon that match.
AGAMEMNON.
First, all you peers of Greece, go to my tent;
There in the full convive we; afterwards,
As Hector’s leisure and your bounties shall
Concur together, severally entreat him.
Beat loud the tambourines, let the trumpets blow,
That this great soldier may his welcome know.
[Exeunt all but TROILUS and ULYSSES.]
TROILUS.
My Lord Ulysses, tell me, I beseech you,
In what place of the field doth Calchas keep?
ULYSSES.
At Menelaus’ tent, most princely Troilus.
There Diomed doth feast with him tonight,
Who neither looks upon the heaven nor earth,
But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view
On the fair Cressid.
TROILUS.
Shall I, sweet lord, be bound to you so much,
After we part from Agamemnon’s tent,
To bring me thither?
ULYSSES.
You shall command me, sir.
As gentle tell me of what honour was
This Cressida in Troy? Had she no lover there
That wails her absence?
TROILUS.
O, sir, to such as boasting show their scars
A mock is due. Will you walk on, my lord?
She was belov’d, she lov’d; she is, and doth;
But still sweet love is food for fortune’s tooth.
[Exeunt.]
German
ACT V
SCENE I
The Grecian camp. Before the tent of ACHILLES
[Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS.]
ACHILLES.
I’ll heat his blood with Greekish wine tonight,
Which with my scimitar I’ll cool tomorrow.
Patroclus, let us feast him to the height.
PATROCLUS.
Here comes Thersites.
[Enter THERSITES.]
ACHILLES.
How now, thou core of envy!
Thou crusty batch of nature, what’s the news?
THERSITES.
Why, thou picture of what thou seemest, and idol of idiot worshippers, here’s a letter for thee.
ACHILLES.
From whence, fragment?
THERSITES.
Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy.
PATROCLUS.
Who keeps the tent now?
THERSITES.
The surgeon’s box or the patient’s wound.
PATROCLUS.
Well said, Adversity! and what needs these tricks?
THERSITES.
Prithee, be silent, boy; I profit not by thy talk; thou art said to be Achilles’ male varlet.
PATROCLUS.
Male varlet, you rogue! What’s that?
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, wheezing lungs, bladders full of imposthume, sciaticas, limekilns i’ th’ palm, incurable bone-ache, and the rivelled fee-simple of the tetter, take and take again such preposterous discoveries!
PATROCLUS.
Why, thou damnable box of envy, thou, what meanest thou to curse thus?
THERSITES.
Do I curse thee?
PATROCLUS. Why, no, you ruinous butt; you whoreson indistinguishable cur, no.
THERSITES.
No! Why art thou, then, exasperate, thou idle immaterial skein of sleave silk, thou green sarcenet flap for a sore eye, thou tassel of a prodigal’s purse, thou? Ah, how the poor world is pestered with such water-flies, diminutives of nature!
PATROCLUS.
Out, gall!
THERSITES.
Finch egg!
ACHILLES.
My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted