SCENE III.
The Grecian Camp.
Achilles' tent.
Enter Thersites.
How now, Thersites? what, lost in the labyrinth
of thy fury? Shall the elephant Ajax carry it thus?
he beats me, and I rail at him: O worthy satisfaction!
'would, it were otherwise, that I could beat him,
whilst he rail'd at me: 'Sfoot, I'll learn to conjure
and raise devils, but I'll see some issue of my spiteful
execrations. Then there's Achilles,—a rare engineer.9Q1018
If Troy be not taken 'till these two undermine it, the
walls will stand 'till they fall of themselves. O thou
great thunder-darter of Olympus, forget that thou
art Jove the king of gods; and, Mercury, lose all
the serpentine craft of thy Caduceus; if ye take not
that little little less-than-little wit from them that
they have! which short-arm'd ignorance itself knows
is so abundant scarce, it will not in circumvention
deliver a fly from a spider, 2 notewithout drawing the
massy iron,9Q1019 and cutting the web. After this, the
vengeance on the whole camp! or, rather, the 3 notebone-ache!
for that, methinks, is the curse dependant on
those that war for a placket. I have said my prayers;
and devil envy, say Amen. What, ho! my lord
Achilles!
Enter Patroclus.
Patr.
Who's there? Thersites? Good Thersites,
come in and rail.
-- 61 --
Ther.
If I could have remember'd a gilt counterfeit,
thou wouldst not have slipp'd out of my contemplation:
but it is no matter, Thyself upon thyself!
The common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance,
be thine in great revenue! heaven bless thee from a
tutor, and discipline come not near thee! Let thy
blood be thy direction 'till thy death! then if she,
that lays thee out, says—thou art a fair corse, I'll be
sworn and sworn upon't, she never shrowded any but
lazars. Amen. Where's Achilles?
Patr.
What, art thou devout? wast thou in prayer?
Ther.
Ay; The heavens hear me!
Enter Achilles.
Achil.
Who's there?
Patr.
Thersites, my lord.
Achil.
Where, where?—Art thou come? Why,
my cheese, my digestion, why hast thou not serv'd
thyself in to my table so many meals? Come; what's
Agamemnon!
Ther.
Thy commander, Achilles;—Then tell me,
Patroclus, what's Achilles?
Patr.
Thy lord, Thersites; Then tell me, I pray
thee, what's thyself?
Ther.
Thy knower, Patroclus; Then tell me, Patroclus,
what art thou?
Patr.
Thou may'st tell, that know'st.
Achil.
O, tell, tell.
Ther.
I'll 4 notedecline the whole question. Agammemnon
commands Achilles; Achilles is my lord; I am
Patroclus' knower; and 5 notePatroclus is a fool.
Patr.
You rascal!
-- 62 --
Ther.
Peace, fool; I have not done.
Achil.
He is a privileg'd man.—Proceed, Thersites.
Ther.
Agamemnon is a fool; Achilles is a fool;
Thersites is a fool; and, as aforesaid, Patroclus is a
fool.
Achil.
Derive this; come.
Ther.
Agamemnon is a fool to offer to command
Achilles; Achilles is a fool to be commanded of
Agamemnon; Thersites is a fool, to serve such a fool;
and Patroclus is a fool positive.
Patr.
Why am I a fool?
Ther.
Make that demand 6 note
of the prover.—It
suffices me, thou art. Look you, who comes
here?
Enter Agamemnon, Ulysses, Nestor, Diomedes, and Ajax.
Achil.
Patroclus, I'll speak with no body:—Come
in with me, Thersites.
[Exit.
Ther.
Here is such patchery, such juggling, and
such knavery! all the argument is—a cuckold, and
a whore; A good quarrel, to draw emulous factions,
and bleed to death upon. 7 noteNow the dry serpigo on
the subject! and war, and lechery, confound all!
[Exit.
Aga.
Where is Achilles?
Patr.
Within his tent; but ill-dispos'd, my lord.
Aga.
Let it be known to him, that we are here.
8 note
He shent our messengers; and we lay by
-- 63 --
Our appertainments, visiting of him:
Let him be told so; lest, perchance, he think
We dare not move the question of our place,
Or know not what we are.
Patr.
I shall so say to him.
[Exit.
Ulyss.
We saw him at the opening of his tent;
He is not sick.
Ajax.
Yes, lion-sick, sick of a proud heart: you
may call it melancholy, if you will favour the man;
but, by my head, 'tis pride: But why, why? let him
shew us a cause.—A word, my lord.
[To Agamemnon.
Nest.
What moves Ajax thus to bay at him?
Ulyss.
Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him.
Nest.
Who? Thersites?
Ulyss.
He.
Nest.
Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost
his argument.
Ulyss.
No; you see, he is his argument, that has
his argument; Achilles.
Nest.
All the better; their fraction is more our wish,
than their faction: But it was a strong 9 notecomposure, a
fool could disunite.
Ulyss.
The amity, that wisdom knits not, folly may
easily untye. Here comes Patroclus.
Re-enter Patroclus.
Nest.
No Achilles with him.
-- 64 --
Ulyss.
The elephant hath joints1 note
, but none for courtesy;
His legs are for necessity, not for flexure.
Patr.
Achilles bids me say—he is much sorry,
If any thing more than your sport and pleasure
Did move your greatness, and this 2 note
noble state,
To call on him; he hopes, it is no other,
But, for your health and your digestion sake,
An after-dinner's breath.
Agam.
Hear you, Patroclus;—
We are too well acquainted with these answers:
But his evasion, wing'd thus swift with scorn,
Cannot out-fly our apprehensions.
Much attribute he hath; and much the reason
Why we ascribe it to him: yet all his virtues,—
Not virtuously on his own part beheld,—
Do, in our eyes, begin to lose their gloss;
Yea, like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish,
Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell him,
We come to speak to him: And you shall not sin,
If you do say—we think him over-proud,
-- 65 --
And under-honest; in self-assumption greater,
Than in the note of judgment; and worthier than himself,
Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on;
Disguise the holy strength of their command,
And 1 noteunder-write in an observing kind
His humourous predominance; yea, watch
2 note
His pettish lunes, his ebbs, his flows, as if
The passage and whole carriage of this action
Rode on his tide. Go, tell him this; and add,
That, if he over-hold his price so much,
We'll none of him; but let him, like an engine
Not portable, lie under this report—
Bring action hither, this cannot go to war:
A stirring dwarf we do allowance give3 note
Before a sleeping giant:—Tell him so.
Patr.
I shall; and bring his answer presently.
[Exit.
Aga.
In second voice we'll not be satisfied,
We come to speak with him.—Ulysses, enter you.
[Exit Ulysses.
Ajax.
What is he more than another?
Aga.
No more than what he thinks he is.
Ajax.
Is he so much? Do you not think, he thinks himself
A better man than I?
Aga.
No question.
Ajax.
Will you subscribe his thought, and say—he is?
Aga.
No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as valiant,
-- 66 --
As wise, and no less noble, much more gentle,
And altogether more tractable.
Ajax.
Why should a man be proud?
How doth pride grow? I know not what pride is.
Aga.
Your mind's the clearer, Ajax, and your virtues
The fairer. He that's proud, eats up himself:
Pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his
Own chronicle; and whate'er praises itself
But in the deed, devours the deed i'the praise.
Ajax.
I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendering
of toads4 note.
Nest. [Aside.]
And yet he loves himself; Is it not
strange?
Re-enter Ulysses.
Ulyss.
Achilles will not to the field to-morrow.
Aga.
What's his excuse?
Ulyss.
He doth rely on none;
But carries on the stream of his dispose,
Without observance or respect of any,
In will peculiar and in self admission.
Aga.
Why will he not, upon our fair request,
Untent his person, and share the air with us?
Ulyss.
Things small as nothing, for request's sake only,
He makes important: Possest he is with greatness;
And speaks not to himself, but with a pride
That quarrels at self breath: imagin'd worth
Holds in his blood such swoln and hot discourse,
That, 'twixt his mental and his active parts,
Kingdom'd Achilles in commotion rages,
And batters down himself: What should I say?
-- 67 --
He is so plaguy proud, that the death tokens of it5 note
Cry—No recovery.
Aga.
Let Ajax go to him.—
Dear lord, go you and greet him in his tent:
'Tis said, he holds you well; and will be led,
At your request, a little from himself.
Ulyss.
O Agamemnon, let it not be so!
We'll consecrate the steps that Ajax makes,
When they go from Achilles: Shall the proud lord,
That bastes his arrogance 6 notewith his own seam;
And never suffers matter of the world
Enter his thoughts,—save such as do revolve
And ruminate himself,—shall he be worshipp'd
Of that we hold an idol more than he?
No, this thrice-worthy and right-valiant lord
Must not so stale his palm, nobly acquir'd;
Nor, by my will, assubjugate his merit,
As amply titled as Achilles is,
By going to Achilles:
That were to enlard his fat-already pride;
And add more coals to Cancer, when he burns
With entertaining great Hyperion.
This lord go to him! Jupiter forbid;
And say in thunder—Achilles, go to him.
Nest.
O, this is well; he rubs the vein of him.
[Aside.
Dio.
And how his silence drinks up this applause!
[Aside.
Ajax.
If I go to him, with my armed fist
I'll pash him o'er the face.
-- 68 --
Aga.
O, no, you shall not go.
Ajax.
An he be proud with me, I'll 7 notepheeze his pride:—
Let me go to him.
Ulyss.
8 noteNot for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.
Ajax.
A paltry insolent fellow,—
Nest.
How he describes himself!
[Aside.
Ajax.
Can he not be sociable?
Ulyss.
The raven chides blackness.
[Aside.
Ajax.
I'll let his humours blood.
Aga.
He will be the physician, that should be the patient.
[Aside.
Ajax.
An all men were o' my mind,—
Ulyss.
Wit would be out of fashion.
[Aside.
Ajax.
He should not bear it so,
He should eat swords first: Shall pride carry it?
Nest.
An 'twould, you'd carry half.
[Aside.
Ulyss.
He would have ten shares.
[Aside.
9 note
Ajax.
I will knead him, I'll make him supple:—
Nest.
He's not yet thorough warm: 1 noteforce him with praises:
[Aside.
Pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry.
Ulyss.
My lord, you feed too much on this dislike.
[To Agamemnon.
-- 69 --
Nest.
Our noble general, do not do so.
Dio.
You must prepare to fight without Achilles.
Ulyss.
Why, 'tis this naming of him does him harm.
Here is a man—But 'tis before his face;
I will be silent.
Nest.
Wherefore should you so?
He is not emulous, as Achilles is.
Ulyss.
Know the whole world, he is as valiant.
Ajax.
A whoreson dog, that shall palter thus with us!
'Would, he were a Trojan!
Nest.
What a vice were it in Ajax now—
Ulyss.
If he were proud?
Dio.
Or covetous of praise?
Ulyss.
Ay, or surly borne?
Dio.
Or strange, or self-affected?
Ulyss.
Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet composure;
Praise him that got thee, she that gave thee suck:
Fam'd be thy tutor; and thy parts of nature
Thrice-fam'd, beyond beyond all erudition:
But he that disciplin'd thy arms to fight,
Let Mars divide eternity in twain,
And give him half: and, for thy vigor,
Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield
To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom,
Which, like a bourn2 note
, a pale, a shore, confines
Thy spacious and dilated parts: Here's Nestor,—
Instructed by the antiquary times,
He must, he is, he cannot but be wise;—
But pardon, father Nestor, were your days
As green as Ajax, and your brain so temper'd,
You should not have the eminence of him,
But be as Ajax.
-- 70 --
Ajax.
Shall I call you father?
3 note
Nest.
Ay, my good son.
Dio.
Be rul'd by him, lord Ajax.
Ulyss.
There is no tarrying here; the hart Achilles
Keeps thicket. Please it our great general
To call together all his state of war;
Fresh kings are come to Troy: To-morrow,
We must with all our main of power stand fast:
And here's a lord,—come knights from east to west,
And cull their flower, Ajax shall cope the best.
Aga.
Go we to council. Let Achilles sleep:
Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw deep.
[Exeunt.
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
