Volume I Part 72 (2/2)

It is a small tasting of a man's might, That he should for any matter Fight with a few herbs in a platter: No great laud should follow that victory.

THERSITES.

G.o.d's pa.s.sion, Mulciber, where is thy wit and memory?

I would have a sallet made of steel.

MULCIBER.

Why, sir, in your stomach long you shall it feel, For steel is hard for to digest.

THERSITES.

Man's bones and sides, he is worse than a beast!

I would have a sallet to wear on my head, Which under my chin with a thong red Buckled shall be: Dost thou yet perceive me?

MULCIBER.

Your mind now I see: Why, thou peevish lad, Art thou almost mad, Or well in thy wit?

Get thee a wallet: Would thou have a sallet?

What wouldst thou do with it?

THERSITES.

I pray thee, good Mulciber, make no mo bones, But let me have a sallet made at once.

MULCIBER.

I must do somewhat for this knave; [_Aside_.

What manner of sallet, sir, would ye have?

THERSITES.

I would have such a one, that nother might nor main Should pierce it through, or part it in twain; Which nother gunstone nor sharp spear Should be able other to hurt or tear.

I would have it also for to save my head, If Jupiter himself would have me dead; And if he in a fume would cast at me his fire, This sallet I would have to keep me from his ire.

MULCIBER.

I perceive your mind.

Ye shall find me kind; I will for you prepare:--

[_And then he goeth into his shop, and maketh a sallet for him; at the last he saith_:

Here, Thersites, do this sallet wear, And on thy head it bear; And none shall work thee care.

[_Then Mulciber goeth into his shop, until he is called again_.

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