ness, as Cerberus is at Proserpina's beauty, ay, that thou barkest at him. Ajax. Mistress Thersites ! Ther. Thou shouldest strike him. Ajax. Cobloaf! Ther. He would pun! thee into shivers with his fist, as a sailor breaks a biscuit. Ajax. You whoreson cur! Ther. Do, do. Ajax. Thou stool for a witch! [Beating him. Ther. Ay, do, do; thou sodden-witted lord! thou hast no more brain than I have in mine elbows; an assinego2 may tutor thee: Thou scurvy valiant ass, thou art here put to thrash Trojans; and thou art bought and sold among those of any wit, like a Barbarian slave. If thou use3 to beat me, I will begin at thy heel, and tell what thou art by inches, thou thing of no bowels, thou! Ajax. You dog! Ther. You scurvy lord! Ajax. You cur! [Beating him. Ther. Mars his idiot! do, rudeness; do, camel; do, do. Enter Achilles and Patroclus. Achil. Why, how now, Ajax? wherefore do you thus? How now, Thersites? what's the matter, man? Achil. Ay; what's the matter? Ther. Nay, look upon him. Achil. So I do; What's the matter? Ther. Nay, but regard him well. Achil. Well, why I do so. Ther. But yet you look not well upon him: for, whosoever you take him to be, he is Ajax. Achil. I know that, fool. (1) Pound. (2) Ass, a cant term for a foolish fellow. (3) Continue. Ther. Ay, but that fool knows not himself. Ther. Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters! his evasions have ears thus long. I have bobbed his brain, more than he has beat my bones: 1 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'll tell you what I say of him. Achil. What? Ther. I say, this Ajax [Ajax offers to strike him, Achilles interposes. Achil. Nay, good Ajax. Ther. Has not so much wit Ther. As will stop the eye of Helen's needle, for whom he comes to fight. Achil. Peace, fool! Ther. I would have peace and quietness, but the fool will not: he there; that he; look you there. Ajax. O thou damned cur! I shall Achil. Will you set your wit to a fool's? Ther. No, I warrant you; for a fool's will shame it. Patr. Good words, Thersites. Achil. What's the quarrel? Ajax. I bade the vile owl, go learn me the tenor of the proclamation, and he rails upon me. Ther. I serve thee not. Ajax. Well, go to, go to. Ther. I serve here voluntary.2 Achil. Your last service was sufferance, 'twas not voluntary; no man is beaten voluntary; Ajax was here the voluntary, and you as under an impress. Ther. Even so?-a great deal of your wit too lies in your sinews, or else there be liars. Hector (1) The membrane that protects the brain. shall have a great catch, if he knock out either of your brains; a' were as good crack a fusty nut with no kernel. Achil. What, with me too, Thersites ? Ther. There's Ulysses, and old Nestor,-whose wit was mouldy ere your grandsires had nails on their toes,-yoke you like draught oxen, and make you plough up the wars. Achil. What, what? Ther. Yes, good sooth; To, Achilles! to, Ajax! to! Ther. 'Tis no matter; I shall speak as much as thou afterwards. Patr. No more words, Thersites; peace. Ther. I will hold my peace when Achilles' brachi bids me, shall I ? Achil. There's for you, Patroclus. Ther. I will see you hanged, like clotpoles, ere I come any more to your tents; I will keep where there is wit stirring, and leave the faction of fools. [Exit. Patr. A good riddance. That Hector, by the first hour of the sun, Ajax. O, meaning you :-I'll go learn more of it. [Exeunt. SCENE II-Troy. A room in Priam's palace. Enter Priam, Hector, Troilus, Paris, and Helenus. Pri. After so many hours, lives, speeches spent, (1) Bitch, hound. Thus once again says Nestor from the Greeks; As honour, loss of time, travel, expense, Wounds, friends, and what else dear that is consum'd In hot digestion of this cormorant war,— As far as toucheth my particular, yet, There is no lady of more softer bowels, More ready to cry out-Who knows what follows? Tro. Fie, fie, my brother! Of common ounces? will you with counters sum And buckle-in a waist most fathomless, With spans and inches so diminutive As fears and reasons? fie, for godly shame! Hel. No marvel, though you bite so sharp at reasons, You are so empty of them. Should not our father Bear the great sway of his affairs with reasons, Because your speech hath none, that tells him so? (1) Tenths. Tro. You are for dreams and slumbers, brother priest, You fur your gloves with reason. Here are your reasons: You know, an enemy intends you harm; Or like a star dis-orb'd?-Nay, if we talk of reason, Let's shut our gates, and sleep: Manhood and honour Should have hare hearts, would they but fat their thoughts With this cramm'd reason: reason and respect! Hect. Brother, she is not worth what she doth cost The holding. Tro. What is aught, but as 'tis valued? Hect. But value dwells not in particular will; It holds his estimate and dignity As well wherein 'tis precious of itself To make the service greater than the god; Tro. I take to-day a wife, and my election (1) Caution. (2) Shrink, or fly off |