_Achil_. Who’s there?
_Patr_. Thersites, my lord.
_Achil_. Where, where? O, where? Art thou come? Why, my cheese, my
digestion, why hast thou not served thyself in 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
Thersites?
_Ther_. Thy knower, Patroclus. Then tell me, Patroclus, what art thou?
_Patr_. Thou must tell that knowest.
_Achil_. O, tell, tell,
_Ther_. I’ll decline the whole question. Agamemnon commands Achilles;
Achilles is my lord; I am Patroclus’ 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 this Patroclus is a fool positive.
_Patr_. Why am I a fool?
_Ther_. Make that demand of the Creator. It suffices me thou art. Look
you, who comes here?
_Achil_. Come, Patroclus, I’ll speak with nobody. Come in with me,
Thersites.
Exit
_Ther_. 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