His crest that prouder than blue Iris bends. Yet go we under our opinion still But, hit or miss, Our project's life this shape of sense assumes: Now I begin to relish thy advice; And I will give a taste of it forthwith To Agamemnon: go we to him straight. Must tarre the mastiffs on, as 'twere their bone. 380 [Exeunt. 390 ACT II SCENE I. A part of the Grecian camp. Enter AJAX and THERSITES. Ajax. Thersites ! Ther. Agamemnon, how if he had boils? full, all over, generally? Ajax. Thersites ! Ther. And those boils did run? say so: did not the general run then? were not that a botchy core? Ajax. Dog! Ther. Then would come him; I see none now. 2. boils, Q. Ff biles, the invariable form in Shakespeare. The modern form is due to some matter from ΤΟ confusion with the verb. Ajax. Thou bitch-wolf's son, canst thou not hear? [Beating him] Feel, then. Ther. The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel beef-witted lord! Ajax. Speak then, thou vinewedst leaven, speak: I will beat thee into handsomeness. 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' 20 thy jade's tricks! Ajax. Toadstool, learn me the proclamation. Ther. Dost thou think I have no sense, thou strikest me thus? Ajax. The proclamation! Ther. Thou art proclaimed a fool, I think. Ajax. Do not, porpentine, do not: my fingers itch. Ther. I would thou didst itch from head to foot and I had the scratching of thee; I would 30 make thee the loathsomest scab in Greece. When thou art forth in the incursions, thou strikest as slow as another. 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 barkest at him. Ajax. Mistress Thersites ! Ther. Thou shouldst strike him. 13. plague of Greece, perhaps the plague sent by Apollo on the Greek forces (Johnson). This was known to Shakespeare from /. I. 14. beef-witted, gross, dull. Sir Andrew Aguecheek attri 40 buted the decline of his wit to excessive eating of beef. 15. vinewedst, mouldiest. Johnson and Knight's emendation for Q unsalted, Ff whinidst. 27. porpentine, porcupine. Ajax, Cobloaf! Ther. He would pun thee into shivers with his fist, as a sailor breaks a biscuit. Ajax. [Beating him] You whoreson cur! Ajax. Thou stool for a witch! Ther. Ay, do, do; thou sodden-witted lord! thou hast no more brain than I have in mine elbows; an asinico may tutor thee: thou scurvyvaliant ass! thou art here but to thrash Trojans; 50 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 bowels, thou! Ajax. You dog! Ther. You scurvy lord! Ajax. [Beating him] You cur! Ther. Mars his idiot! do, rudeness; do, camel; do, do. Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS. Achil. Why, how now, Ajax! wherefore do 60 you thus? How now, Thersites! what's the matter, man? Ther. You see him there, do you? 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. 70 The modern word is the quasiSpanish assinego, which many modern editors substitute. 58. Mars his, Mars's. Achil. I know that, fool. Ther. Ay, but that fool knows not himself. Ajax. Therefore I beat thee. 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: 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'll tell you what I 80 say of him. Achil. What? Ther. I say, this Ajax Achil. Nay, good Ajax. [Ajax offers to beat him. Ther. Has not so much wit Achil. Nay, I must hold you. 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 90 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 tenour of the proclamation, and he rails upon me. Ther. I serve thee not. Ajax. Well, go to, go to. Ther. I serve here voluntary. Achil. Your last service was sufferance, 'twas 77. pia mater, brain (properly the membrane enclosing it). VOL. III 401 2 D 100 not voluntary: no man is beaten voluntary: Ajax was here the voluntary, and you as under an impress. Ther. 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 110 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! Ajax. I shall cut out your tongue. 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' brach 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. Patr. A good riddance. [Exit. Achil. Marry, this, sir, is proclaim'd through all our host: That Hector, by the fifth hour of the sun, 126. brach, female hound, Q. Ff brooch. 120 130 |