Enter Thersites solus.

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. 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 thou 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, without drawing the massy irons and cutting the web. After this, the vengeance on the whole camp! or rather the bone-ach, 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!

Patr.

Who's there? Thersites? Good Thersites, come in and rail.

Ther.

If I could have remember'd a gilt counter, thou could'st not have slipt 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 coarse, 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 heav'ns hear me?

Achil.

Who's there?

Patr.

Thersites, my lord.

Achil.

Where, where? art thou come, why, my cheese, my digestion—why hast thou not served thy self up 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 decline the whole question. Agamemnon commands Achilles, Achilles is my lord, I am Patroclus's knower, and Patroclus is a fool.

Patr.

You rascal—

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 to thy creator;—it suffices me, thou art.