w his man without art magic.

_Thers._ So he had need; for, to my certain knowledge, neither of you
two are conjurers to inform him.

_Achil._ to _Ajax._ You do not mean yourself, sure?

_Ajax._ I mean nothing.

_Thers._ Thou mean'st so always.

_Achil._ Umh! mean nothing!

_Thers._ [_Aside._] Jove, if it be thy will, let these two fools
quarrel about nothing! 'tis a cause that's worthy of them.

_Ajax._ You said he knew his man; is there but one?
One man amongst the Greeks?

_Achil._ Since you will have it,
But one to fight with Hector.

_Ajax._ Then I am he.

_Achil._ Weak Ajax!

_Ajax._ Weak Achilles.

_Thers._ Weak indeed; God help you both!

_Patro._ Come, this must be no quarrel.

_Thers._ There's no cause for't

_Patro._ He tells you true, you are both equal.

_Thers._ Fools.

_Achil._ I can brook no comparisons.

_Ajax._ Nor I.

_Achil._ Well, Ajax.

_Ajax._ Well, Achilles.

_Thers._ So, now they quarrel in monosyllables; a word and a blow,
an't be thy will.

_Achil._ You may hear more.

_Ajax._ I would.

_Achil._ Expect.

_Ajax._ Farewell. [_Exeunt severally._

_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_