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?

_Thers._ Thy commander, Achilles.--Then tell me, Patroclus, what's
Achilles?

_Patro._ Thy benefactor, Thersites. Then tell me, pr'ythee, what's
thyself?

_Thers._ Thy knower, Patroclus. Then tell me, Patroclus, what art
thou?

_Patro._ Thou mayest tell, that knowest.

_Achil._ O, tell, tell.--This must be very foolish; and I die to have
my spleen tickled.

_Thers._ I'll decline the whole question. Agamemnon commands Achilles;
Achilles is my benefactor; I am Patroclus's knower; and Patroclus is a
fool.

_Patro._ You rascal!

_Achil,_ He is a privileged man; proceed, Thersites. Ha, ha, ha!
pr'ythee, proceed, while I am in the vein of laughing.

_Thers._ And all these foresaid men are fools. Agamemnon's a fool, to
offer to command Achilles; Achilles is a fool, to be commanded by him;
I am a fool, to serve such a fool; and Patroclus is a fool positive.

_Patro._ Why am I a fool?

_Thers._ Make that demand to heaven; it suffices me, thou art one.

_Acini._ Ha, ha, ha! O give me ribs of steel, or I shall split with
pleasure.--Now play me Nestor at a night alarm: mimick him rarely;
make him cough and spit, and fumble with his gorget, and shake the
rivets with his palsy hand, in and out, in and out; gad, that's
exceeding foolish.

_Patro._ Nestor shall not escape so; he has told us what we are. Come,
what's Nestor?

_Thers._ Why, he is an old wooden top, set up by father Time three
hundred years ago, that hums to Agamemnon and Ulysses, and sleeps to
all the world besides.

_Achil._ So let him sleep, for I'll no more of him.--O, my Patroclus,
I but force a smile; Ajax has drawn the lot, and all the praise of
Hector must be his.

_Thers._ I hope to see his praise upon his shoulders, in blows and
bruises; his arms, thighs, and body, all full of fame, such fame as he
gave me; and a wide hole at last full in his bosom, to let in day upon
him, and discover the inside of a fool.

_Patro._ How he struts in expectation of honour! he knows not what he
does.

_Thers._ Nay, that's no wonder, for he never did.

_Achil._ Pr'ythee, say how he behaves himself?

_Thers._ O, you would be learning to practise against such another
time?--Why, he tosses up his head as he had built castles in the air;
and he treads upward to them, stalks into the element; he surveys