1    Thersites!

2    Agamemnon, how if he had boils? full, all over,
3    generally?

4    Thersites!

5    And those boils did run? say so: did not the
6    general run then? were not that a botchy core?

7    Dog!

8    Then would come some matter from him; I see none now.

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

11   The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel
12   beef-witted lord!

13   Speak then, thou vinewedst leaven, speak: I will
14   beat thee into handsomeness.

15   I shall sooner rail thee into wit and holiness: but,
16   I think, thy horse will sooner con an oration than
17   thou learn a prayer without book. Thou canst strike,
18   canst thou? a red murrain o' thy jade's tricks!

19   Toadstool, learn me the proclamation.

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

21   The proclamation!

22   Thou art proclaimed a fool, I think.

23   Do not, porpentine, do not: my fingers itch.

24   I would thou didst itch from head to foot and I had
25   the scratching of thee; I would make thee the
26   loathsomest scab in Greece. When thou art forth in
27   the incursions, thou strikest as slow as another.

28   I say, the proclamation!

29   Thou grumblest and railest every hour on Achilles,
30   and thou art as full of envy at his greatness as
31   Cerberus is at Proserpine's beauty, ay, that thou
32   barkest at him.

33   Mistress Thersites!

34   Thou shouldest strike him.

35   Cobloaf!

36   He would pun thee into shivers with his fist, as a
37   sailor breaks a biscuit.

Beating him
38    You whoreson cur!

39   Do, do.

40   Thou stool for a witch!

41   Ay, do, do; thou sodden-witted lord! thou hast no
42   more brain than I have in mine elbows; an assinego
43   may tutor thee: thou scurvy-valiant ass! thou art
44   here but to thrash Trojans; and thou art bought and
45   sold among those of any wit, like a barbarian slave.
46   If thou use to beat me, I will begin at thy heel, and
47   tell what thou art by inches, thou thing of no
48   bowels, thou!

49   You dog!

50   You scurvy lord!

Beating him
51    You cur!

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

53   Why, how now, Ajax! wherefore do you thus? How now,
54   Thersites! what's the matter, man?

55   You see him there, do you?

56   Ay; what's the matter?

57   Nay, look upon him.

58   So I do: what's the matter?

59   Nay, but regard him well.

60   'Well!' why, I do so.

61   But yet you look not well upon him; for whosoever you
62   take him to be, he is Ajax.

63   I know that, fool.

64   Ay, but that fool knows not himself.

65   Therefore I beat thee.

66   Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters! his
67   evasions have ears thus long. I have bobbed his
68   brain more than he has beat my bones: I will buy
69   nine sparrows for a penny, and his pia mater is not
70   worth the nineth part of a sparrow. This lord,
71   Achilles, Ajax, who wears his wit in his belly and
72   his guts in his head, I'll tell you what I say of
73   him.

74   What?

75   I say, this Ajax--

76   Nay, good Ajax.

77   Has not so much wit--

78   Nay, I must hold you.

79   As will stop the eye of Helen's needle, for whom he
80   comes to fight.

81   Peace, fool!

82   I would have peace and quietness, but the fool will
83   not: he there: that he: look you there.

84   O thou damned cur! I shall--

85   Will you set your wit to a fool's?

86   No, I warrant you; for a fools will shame it.

87   Good words, Thersites.

88   What's the quarrel?

89   I bade the vile owl go learn me the tenor of the
90   proclamation, and he rails upon me.

91   I serve thee not.

92   Well, go to, go to.

93   I serve here voluntarily.

94   Your last service was sufferance, 'twas not
95   voluntary: no man is beaten voluntary: Ajax was
96   here the voluntary, and you as under an impress.

97   E'en so; a great deal of your wit, too, lies in your
98   sinews, or else there be liars. Hector have a great
99   catch, if he knock out either of your brains: a'
100  were as good crack a fusty nut with no kernel.

101  What, with me too, Thersites?

102  There's Ulysses and old Nestor, whose wit was mouldy
103  ere your grandsires had nails on their toes, yoke you
104  like draught-oxen and make you plough up the wars.

105  What, what?

106  Yes, good sooth: to, Achilles! to, Ajax! to!

107  I shall cut out your tongue.

108  'Tis no matter! I shall speak as much as thou
109  afterwards.

110  No more words, Thersites; peace!

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

112  There's for you, Patroclus.

113  I will see you hanged, like clotpoles, ere I come
114  any more to your tents: I will keep where there is
115  wit stirring and leave the faction of fools.

116  A good riddance.

117  Marry, this, sir, is proclaim'd through all our host:
118  That Hector, by the fifth hour of the sun,
119  Will with a trumpet 'twixt our tents and Troy
120  To-morrow morning call some knight to arms
121  That hath a stomach; and such a one that dare
122  Maintain--I know not what: 'tis trash. Farewell.

123  Farewell. Who shall answer him?

124  I know not: 'tis put to lottery; otherwise
125  He knew his man.

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