_Ther._ The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel beef-witted lord!
_Ajax._ Speak then, thou vinewed'st leaven, speak: I[1268] will beat thee into handsomeness. 15
_Ther._ I shall sooner rail thee into wit and holiness: but, I think, thy horse will sooner con an oration than thou[1269] learn a prayer without book. Thou canst strike, canst[1270] thou? a red murrain o' thy jade's tricks![1271]
_Ajax._ Toadstool, learn me the proclamation.[1272] 20
_Ther._ Dost thou think I have no sense, thou strikest me thus?
_Ther._ Thou art proclaimed a fool, I think.[1273]
_Ajax._ Do not, porpentine, do not; my fingers itch.[1274] 25
_Ther._ I would thou didst itch from head to foot, and I had the scratching of thee; I would make thee the loathsomest scab in Greece. When thou art forth in the incursions,[1275] thou strikest as slow as another.[1275]
_Ther._ Thou grumblest and railest every hour on Achilles, and thou art as full of envy at his greatness as Cerberus is at Proserpina's beauty, ay, that thou barkest at him.[1276]
_Ther._ Thou shouldst strike him.[1278] 35
_Ther._ He would pun thee into shivers with his fist, as a[1278][1280] sailor breaks a biscuit.
_Ajax._ [_Beating him_] You whoreson cur![1281][1282]
_Ther._ Ay, do, do; thou sodden-witted lord! thou hast[1284] no more brain than I have in my elbows; an assinego[1285] may tutor thee: thou scurvy-valiant ass! thou art here but[1286] to thrash Trojans; and thou art bought and sold among[1287] 45 those of any wit, like a barbarian slave. If thou use to beat me, I will begin at thy heel and tell what thou art by inches, thou thing of no bowels, thou![1288]
_Ther._ Mars his idiot! do, rudeness; do, camel, do, do.
_Achil._ Why, how now, Ajax! wherefore do ye thus?[1290] How now, Thersites! what's the matter, man?
_Ther._ But yet you look not well upon him; for, whosoever[1292] you take him to be, he is Ajax.
_Ther._ Ay, but that fool knows not himself.
_Ther._ Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters! his evasions have ears thus long. I have bobbed his brain more[1293] than he has beat my bones: I will buy nine sparrows for a[1294] penny, and his pia mater is not worth the ninth part of a sparrow. This lord, Achilles, Ajax, who wears his wit in 70 his belly and his guts in his head, I'll tell you what I say[1295] of him.