Act II, Scene i:
The Grecian camp

[Enter Ajax and THERSITES.]

AJAX.:

Thersites!

THERSITES.:

Agamemnon—how if he had boils full, an over, generally?

AJAX.:

Thersites!

THERSITES.:

And those boils did run—say so. Did not the general run

then? Were not that a botchy core?

AJAX.:

Dog!

THERSITES.:

Then there would come some matter from him;

I see none now.

AJAX.:

Thou bitch-wolf's son, canst thou not hear? Feel, then.

[Strikes him.]

THERSITES.:

The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel beef-witted

lord!

AJAX.:

Speak, then, thou whinid'st leaven, speak. I will beat thee

into handsomeness.

THERSITES.:

I shall sooner rail thee into wit and holiness; but I

think thy horse will sooner con an oration than thou learn a

prayer without book. Thou canst strike, canst thou? A red murrain

o' thy jade's tricks!

AJAX.:

Toadstool, learn me the proclamation.

THERSITES.:

Dost thou think I have no sense, thou strikest me thus?

AJAX.:

The proclamation!

THERSITES.:

Thou art proclaim'd, a fool, I think.

AJAX.:

Do not, porpentine, do not; my fingers itch.

THERSITES.:

I would thou didst itch from head to foot and I had the

scratching of thee; I would make thee the loathsomest scab in

Greece. When thou art forth in the incursions, thou strikest as

slow as another.

AJAX.:

I say, the proclamation.

THERSITES.:

Thou grumblest and railest every hour on Achilles; and

thou art as full of envy at his greatness as Cerberus is at

Proserpina's beauty—ay, that thou bark'st at him.

AJAX.:

Mistress Thersites!

THERSITES.:

Thou shouldst strike him.

AJAX.:

Cobloaf!

THERSITES.:

He would pun thee into shivers with his fist, as a

sailor breaks a biscuit.

AJAX.:

You whoreson cur!

[Strikes him.]

THERSITES.:

Do, do.

AJAX.:

Thou stool for a witch!

THERSITES.:

Ay, do, do; thou sodden-witted lord! Thou hast no more

brain than I have in mine elbows; an assinico may tutor thee. You

scurvy valiant ass! Thou art here but to thrash Troyans, and thou

art bought and sold among those of any wit like a barbarian

slave. If thou use to beat me, I will begin at thy heel and tell

what thou art by inches, thou thing of no bowels, thou!

AJAX.:

You dog!

THERSITES.:

You scurvy lord!

AJAX.:

You cur!

[Strikes him.]

THERSITES.:

Mars his idiot! Do, rudeness; do, camel; do, do.

[Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS.]

ACHILLES.:

Why, how now, Ajax! Wherefore do you thus?

How now, Thersites! What's the matter, man?

THERSITES.:

You see him there, do you?

ACHILLES.:

Ay; what's the matter?

THERSITES.:

Nay, look upon him.

ACHILLES.:

So I do. What's the matter?

THERSITES.:

Nay, but regard him well.

ACHILLES.:

Well! why, so I do.

THERSITES.:

But yet you look not well upon him; for who some ever

you take him to be, he is Ajax.

ACHILLES.:

I know that, fool.

THERSITES.:

Ay, but that fool knows not himself.

AJAX.:

Therefore I beat thee.

THERSITES.:

Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters! His

evasions have ears thus long. I have bobb'd his brain more than

he has beat my bones. I will buy nine sparrows for a penny, and

his pia mater is not worth the ninth part of a sparrow. This

lord, Achilles, Ajax—who wears his wit in his belly and his guts

in his head—I'll tell you what I say of him.

ACHILLES.:

What?

THERSITES.:

I say this Ajax—

[AJAX offers to strike him.]

ACHILLES.:

Nay, good Ajax.

THERSITES.:

Has not so much wit—

ACHILLES.:

Nay, I must hold you.

THERSITES.:

As will stop the eye of Helen's needle, for whom he

comes to fight.

ACHILLES.:

Peace, fool.

THERSITES.:

I would have peace and quietness, but the fool will not—

he there; that he; look you there.

AJAX.:

O thou damned cur! I shall—

ACHILLES.:

Will you set your wit to a fool's?

THERSITES.:

No, I warrant you, the fool's will shame it.

PATROCLUS.:

Good words, Thersites.

ACHILLES.:

What's the quarrel?

AJAX.:

I bade the vile owl go learn me the tenour of the

proclamation, and he rails upon me.

THERSITES.:

I serve thee not.

AJAX.:

Well, go to, go to.

THERSITES.:

I serve here voluntary.

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.

THERSITES.:

E'en so; a great deal of your wit too lies in your

sinews, or else there be liars. Hector shall have a great catch

an he knock out either of your brains: 'a were as good crack a

fusty nut with no kernel.

ACHILLES.:

What, with me too, Thersites?

THERSITES.:

There's Ulysses and old Nestor—whose wit was mouldy ere

your grandsires had nails on their toes—yoke you like draught

oxen, and make you plough up the wars.

ACHILLES.:

What, what?

THERSITES.:

Yes, good sooth. To Achilles, to Ajax, to—

AJAX.:

I shall cut out your tongue.

THERSITES.:

'Tis no matter; I shall speak as much as thou

afterwards.

PATROCLUS.:

No more words, Thersites; peace!

THERSITES.:

I will hold my peace when Achilles' brach bids me, shall I?

ACHILLES.:

There's for you, Patroclus.

THERSITES.:

I will see you hang'd like clotpoles ere I come any more

to your tents. I will keep where there is wit stirring, and leave

the faction of fools.

[Exit.]

PATROCLUS.:

A good riddance.

ACHILLES.:

Marry, this, sir, is proclaim'd through all our host,

That Hector, by the fifth hour of the sun,

Will with a trumpet 'twixt our tents and Troy,

To-morrow morning, call some knight to arms

That hath a stomach; and such a one that dare

Maintain I know not what; 'tis trash. Farewell.

AJAX.:

Farewell. Who shall answer him?

ACHILLES.:

I know not; 'tis put to lott'ry. Otherwise. He knew his man.

AJAX.:

O, meaning you! I will go learn more of it.

[Exeunt.]