Thers. Curse on them, they want wine; your true fool will never fight without it. Or a drab, a drab; Oh for a commodious drab betwixt them! would Helen had been here! then it had come to something.
Dogs, lions, bulls, for females tear and gore;
And the beast, man, is valiant for his whore. [Exit Thersites.
ACT III. SCENE I.
Enter Thersites.
Thers. Shall the idiot Ajax use me thus? he beats me, and I rail at him. O worthy satisfaction! would I could but beat him, and he railed at me! Then there's Achilles, a rare engineer; if Troy be not taken till these two undermine it, the walls will stand till they fall of themselves. Now the plague on the whole camp, or rather the pox; for that's a curse dependent on those that fight, as we do, for a cuckold's quean.—What, ho, my lord Achilles!
Enter Patroclus.
Patro. Who's there, Thersites? Good Thersites, come in and rail.
Thers. If I could have remembered an ass with gilt trappings, thou hadst not slipped out of my contemplation. But it is no matter: thyself upon thyself! the common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in great abundance! Heavens bless thee from a tutor, and discipline come not near thee!—I have said my prayers; and the devil, Envy, say Amen. Where's Achilles?
Enter Achilles.
Achil. Who's there, Thersites? Why, my digestion, why hast thou not served thyself to my table so many meals? Come, begin; what's Agamemnon?