SCENE I.
The same. Another Part of it.
Enter Thersites, Ajax following.
Aja.
Thersites,—
The.
Agamemnon—how if he had biles? full, all over
generally?
Aja.
Thersites,—
The.
And those biles did run? Say so, did not the
general run then note? were not that a botchy core?
Aja.
Dog,—
The.
Then there note would come some matter from him;
I see none now.
Aja.
Thou bitch-wolf's son, can'st thou not hear?
Feel then.
[striking him.
The.
The plague of Greece upon thee,14Q1213 thou mungrel
beef-witted lord!
Aja.
Speak then, thou unsalted leaven note, speak: I will
beat thee into handsomeness.
-- 30 --
The.
I shall sooner rail thee into wit and holiness:
but, I think, thy horse will sooner con an oration, than note
thou learn a note prayer without book. Thou canst strike,
canst thou? a red murrain o'thy jade's tricks!
Aja.
Toad-stool, learn me the proclamation.
The.
Dost thou think, I have no sense, thou strik'st
me thus?
Aja.
The proclamation.
The.
Thou art proclaim'd a fool, I think.
Aja.
Do not, porcupine, do not; my fingers itch.
The.
I would, thou did'st itch from head to foot, and
I had the scratching of thee; I would make thee the
loathsom'st scab in Greece.
Aja.
I say note, the proclamation.
The.
Thou grumbl'st note 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.
Aja.
Mistress Thersites!
The.
Thou should'st strike him.
Aja.
Cob-loaf!
The.
He would pound thee note into shivers with his fist, note
as a sailor breaks a bisket.
Aja.
You whorson cur!
[beating him.
The.
Do, do.
Aja.
Thou stool for a witch!
The.
Ay, do, do: Thou sodden-witted lord! thou
hast no more brain, than note I have in mine elbows; an
assinego note may tutor thee: Thou scurvy note valiant ass! thou
art here but to thrash note Trojans; 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
-- 31 --
bowels, thou!
Aja.
You dog!
[beating him.
The.
You scurvy lord!
Aja.
You cur!
The.
Mars his ideot! do, rudeness; do, camel; do, do.
Enter Achilles, and Patroclus.
Ach.
Why, how now, Ajax? wherefore do you note thus note?—
How now, Thersites? what's the matter, man?
The.
You see him † there, do you?
Ach.
Ay; What's the matter?
The.
Nay, look upon him.
Ach.
So I do; What's the matter?
The.
Nay, but regard him well.
Ach.
Well, why I do so.
The.
But yet you look not well upon him: for, whosoever
you take him to be, he is Ajax.
Ach.
I know that, fool.
The.
Ay, but that fool knows not himself.
Aja.
Therefore I beat thee.
The.
Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters!
his evasions have ears thus † long. I have bob'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
tell note you what I say of him:
Ach.
What?
The.
I say, this Ajax—
Ach.
Nay, good Ajax.
[staying him.
The.
has note not so much wit—
Ach.
Nay, I must hold you.
The.
as note will stop the eye of Helen's needle, for whom
-- 32 --
he comes to fight.
Ach.
Peace, fool!
The.
I would have peace and quietness, but the fool
will not: he there; that he; look you there.
Aja.
O thou damn'd cur! I shall—
Ach.
Will you set your wit to a fool's?
The.
No, I warrant you; for a fool's note will shame it.
Pat.
Good words, Thersites.
Ach.
What's the quarrel?
Aja.
I bad the vile note owl, go learn me the tenure note of
the proclamation, and he rails upon me.
The.
I serve thee not.
Aja.
Well, go to, go to.
The.
I serve here voluntary.
Ach.
Your last service was sufferance, 'twas not voluntary;
no man is beaten voluntary: Ajax was here the
voluntary, and you as under an impress.
The.
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, if he knock out either note of your brains; a' were note as
good crack a fusty nut with no kernel.
Ach.
What, with me too, Thersites?
The.
There's Ulysses and old Nestor,—whose wit was
mouldy ere your grandsires note had nails on their toes note,—
yoke you like draft note oxen, and make you plough up the
wars. note
Ach.
What, what?
The.
Yes, good sooth; To, Achilles! to, Ajax! to!
Aja.
I shall cut out your tongue
The.
'Tis no matter; I shall speak as much wit as
thou, afterwards.
Pat.
No more words, Thersites; peace note.
-- 33 --
The.
I will hold my peace when Achilles' brach note bids
me, shall I?
Ach.
There's for you, Patroclus.
The.
I will see you hang'd, like clot-poles note, ere I
come any more to your tents; I will keep where there is
wit stirring, and leave the faction of fools.
[Exit.
Pat.
A good riddance.
Ach.
Marry, this, sir, is proclaim'd through all our host:
That Hector, by the first hour note 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 alone, that dare
Maintain—I know not what; 'tis trash. Farewel,
Aja.
Farewel. Who shall answer him?
Ach.
I know not, it is put to lottery; otherwise,
He knew his man.
[Exeunt Ach. and Pat.
Aja.
O, meaning you: I'll go learn more of it.
[Exit.
Edward Capell [1767], Mr William Shakespeare his comedies, histories, and tragedies, set out by himself in quarto, or by the Players his Fellows in folio, and now faithfully republish'd from those Editions in ten Volumes octavo; with an introduction: Whereunto will be added, in some other Volumes, notes, critical and explanatory, and a Body of Various Readings entire (Printed by Dryden Leach, for J. and R. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S10601].
