THERSITES.
As will stop the eye of Helen’s needle, for whom he comes to fight.
ACHILLES.
Peace, fool.
THERSITES.
I would have peace and quietness, but the fool will not— he there; that he; look you there.
AJAX.
O thou damned cur! I shall—
ACHILLES.
Will you set your wit to a fool’s?
THERSITES.
No, I warrant you, the fool’s will shame it.
PATROCLUS.
Good words, Thersites.
ACHILLES.
What’s the quarrel?
AJAX.
I bade the vile owl go learn me the tenour of the proclamation, and he rails upon me.
THERSITES.
I serve thee not.