THERSITES. Here is such patchery, such juggling, and such knavery. All the argument is a whore and a cuckold-a good quarrel to draw emulous factions and bleed to death upon. Now the dry serpigo on the subject, and war and lechery confound all! Exit
[Enter AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, NESTOR, DIOMEDES, AJAX, and CALCHAS.]
AGAMEMNON.
Where is Achilles?
PATROCLUS.
Within his tent; but ill-dispos’d, my lord.
AGAMEMNON.
Let it be known to him that we are here.
He shent our messengers; and we lay by
Our appertainings, visiting of him.
Let him be told so; lest, perchance, he think
We dare not move the question of our place
Or know not what we are.
PATROCLUS.
I shall say so to him.
[Exit.]
ULYSSES.
We saw him at the opening of his tent.
He is not sick.
AJAX. Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart. You may call it melancholy, if you will favour the man; but, by my head, ‘tis pride. But why, why? Let him show us a cause. A word, my lord.
[Takes AGAMEMNON aside.]
NESTOR.
What moves Ajax thus to bay at him?
ULYSSES.
Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him.
NESTOR.
Who, Thersites?
ULYSSES.
He.
NESTOR.
Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost his argument
ULYSSES.
No; you see he is his argument that has his argument—
Achilles.
NESTOR. All the better; their fraction is more our wish than their faction. But it was a strong composure a fool could disunite!
ULYSSES.
The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie.
[Re-enter PATROCLUS.]
Here comes Patroclus.
NESTOR.
No Achilles with him.
ULYSSES. The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy; his legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure.
PATROCLUS.
Achilles bids me say he is much sorry
If any thing more than your sport and pleasure
Did move your greatness and this noble state
To call upon him; he hopes it is no other
But for your health and your digestion sake,
An after-dinner’s breath.
AGAMEMNON.
Hear you, Patroclus.
We are too well acquainted with these answers;
But his evasion, wing’d thus swift with scorn,
Cannot outfly our apprehensions.
Much attribute he hath, and much the reason
Why we ascribe it to him. Yet all his virtues,
Not virtuously on his own part beheld,
Do in our eyes begin to lose their gloss;
Yea, like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish,
Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell him
We come to speak with him; and you shall not sin
If you do say we think him over-proud
And under-honest, in self-assumption greater
Than in the note of judgment; and worthier than himself
Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on,
Disguise the holy strength of their command,
And underwrite in an observing kind
His humorous predominance; yea, watch
His pettish lunes, his ebbs, his flows, as if
The passage and whole carriage of this action
Rode on his tide. Go tell him this, and ad
That if he overhold his price so much
We’ll none of him, but let him, like an engine
Not portable, lie under this report:
Bring action hither; this cannot go to war.
A stirring dwarf we do allowance give
Before a sleeping giant. Tell him so.
PATROCLUS.
I shall, and bring his answer presently.
[Exit.]
AGAMEMNON.
In second voice we’ll not be satisfied;
We come to speak with him. Ulysses, enter you.
[Exit ULYSSES.]
AJAX.
What is he more than another?
AGAMEMNON.
No more than what he thinks he is.
AJAX. Is he so much? Do you not think he thinks himself a better man than I am?
AGAMEMNON.
No question.
AJAX.
Will you subscribe his thought and say he is?
AGAMEMNON. No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as valiant, as wise, no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether more tractable.
AJAX.
