Part 11

Aiax. You cur! [Strikes him]

Ther. Mars his idiot! Do, rudeness; do, camel; do, do.

Enter Achilles and Patroclus

Achil. Why, how now, Aiax! Wherefore do 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, so I do.

Ther. But yet you look not well upon him; for who some ever you take him to be, he is Aiax.

Achil. I know that, fool.

Ther. Ay, but that fool knows not himself.

Aiax. Therefore I beat thee.

Ther. Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters! His evasions have ears thus long. I have bobb’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, Aiax-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 Aiax- [Aiax offers to strike him]

Achil. Nay, good Aiax.

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 the fool will not- he there; that he; look you there.

Aiax. O thou damned cur! I shall-

Achil. Will you set your wit to a fool’s?

Ther. No, I warrant you, the fool’s will shame it.

Patr. Good words, Thersites.

Achil. What’s the quarrel?