Ajax.

Thersites,—

Ther.

Agamemnon—how if he had boiles—full, all over, generally.

Ajax.

Thersites,—

Ther.

And those boils did run—say so—did not the General run? were not that a botchy core?

Ajax.

Dog!—

Ther.

Then there would come some matter from him: I see none now.

Ajax.

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

Ther.

The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mungrel beef-witted lord!

Ajax.

^{1 note}Speak then, you windyest leaven, speak; I will beat thee into handsomness.

Ther.

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.

Toads-stool, learn me the proclamation.

Ther.

Doest thou think, I have no sense, thou strik'st me thus?

Ajax.

The proclamation—

Ther.

Thou art proclaim'd a fool, I think.

Ajax.

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

Ther.

I would, thou didst itch from head to foot, and I had the scratching of thee; I would make thee the loathsom'st scab in Greece.

Ajax.

I say, the proclamation—

Ther.

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!—

Ther.

Thou shouldst strike him.

Ajax.

Cobloaf!

Ther.

He would pound thee into shivers with his fist, as a sailor breaks a bisket.

Ajax.

You whorson cur!—

Ther.

Do, do.

Ajax.

Thou stool for a witch!—

Ther,

Ay, do, do, thou sodden-witted lord; thou hast no more brain than I have in my elbows: an Assinego may tutor thee. Thou scurvy valiant ass! thou art here but to thrash 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, ^{2 note}

Ajax.

You dog!

Ther.

You scurvy lord!

Ajax.

You cur!

Ther.

Mars his ideot! do, rudeness; do, camel, do, do.