ACHILLES I am Achilles.

HECTOR

Stand fair, I pray thee, let me look on thee.

ACHILLES

Behold thy fill.

HECTOR Nay, I have done already.

ACHILLES

Thou art too brief. I will the second time,

As I would buy thee, view thee limb by limb.

HECTOR

O, like a book of sport thou‘lt read me o’er.

But there’s more in me than thou understand’st.

Why dost thou so oppress me with thine eye?

ACHILLES

Tell me, you heavens, in which part of his body

Shall I destroy him—whether there, or there, or

there—

That I may give the local wound a name,

And make distinct the very breach whereout

Hector’s great spirit flew? Answer me, heavens.

HECTOR

It would discredit the blest gods, proud man,

To answer such a question. Stand again.

Think’st thou to catch my life so pleasantly

As to prenominate in nice conjecture

Where thou wilt hit me dead?

ACHILLES I tell thee, yea.

HECTOR

Wert thou the oracle to tell me so,

I’d not believe thee. Henceforth guard thee well.

For I’ll not kill thee there, nor there, nor there,

But, by the forge that stithied Mars his helm,

I’ll kill thee everywhere, yea, o‘er and o’er.—

You wisest Grecians, pardon me this brag:

His insolence draws folly from my lips.

But I’ll endeavour deeds to match these words,

Or may I never—

AJAX Do not chafe thee, cousin.—

And you, Achilles, let these threats alone,

Till accident or purpose bring you to’t.

You may have every day enough of Hector,

If you have stomach. The general state, I fear,

Can scarce entreat you to be odd with him.

HECTOR (to Achilles)

I pray you, let us see you in the field.

We have had pelting wars since you refused

The Grecians’ cause.

ACHILLES Dost thou entreat me, Hector?

Tomorrow do I meet thee, fell as death;

Tonight, all friends.

HECTOR Thy hand upon that match.

AGAMEMNON

First, all you peers of Greece, go to my tent.

There in the full convive you. Afterwards,

As Hector’s leisure and your bounties shall

Concur together, severally entreat him.

Beat loud the taborins, let the trumpets blow,

That this great soldier may his welcome know.

Flourish. Exeunt all but Troilus and Ulysses

TROILUS

My Lord Ulysses, tell me, I beseech you,

In what place of the field doth Calchas keep?

ULYSSES

At Menelaus’ tent, most princely Troilus.

There Diomed doth feast with him tonight—

Who neither looks on heaven nor on earth,

But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view

On the fair Cressid.

TROILUS

Shall I, sweet lord, be bound to you so much,

After we part from Agamemnon’s tent,

To bring me thither?

ULYSSES You shall command me, sir.

As gentle tell me, of what honour was

This Cressida in Troy? Had she no lover there

That wails her absence?

TROILUS

O sir, to such as boasting show their scars

A mock is due. Will you walk on, my lord?

She was beloved, she loved; she is, and doth.

But still sweet love is food for fortune’s tooth. Exeunt

5.1 Enter Achilles and Patroclus

ACHILLES

I’ll heat his blood with Greekish wine tonight,

Which with my scimitar I’ll cool tomorrow.

Patroclus, let us feast him to the height.

PATROCLUS

Here comes Thersites.

Enter Thersites

ACHILLES How now, thou core of envy,

Thou crusty botch of nature, what’s the news?

THERSITES Why, thou picture of what thou seemest, and idol of idiot-worshippers, here’s a letter for thee.

ACHILLES From whence, fragment?

THERSITES Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy.

Achilles reads the letter

PATROCLUS Who keeps the tent now?

THERSITES The surgeon’s box or the patient’s wound.

PATROCLUS Well said, adversity. And what need these tricks?

THERSITES Prithee be silent, boy. I profit not by thy talk.

Thou art thought to be Achilles’ male varlet.

PATROCLUS ‘Male varlet’, you rogue? What’s that?

THERSITES Why, his masculine whore. Now the rotten diseases of the south, guts-griping, ruptures, catarrhs, loads o’ gravel i’th’ back, lethargies, cold palsies, and the like, take and take again such preposterous discoveries!

PATROCLUS Why, thou damnable box of envy thou, what mean’st thou to curse thus?

THERSITES Do I curse thee?

PATROCLUS Why, no, you ruinous butt, you whoreson indistinguishable cur, no.

THERSITES No? Why art thou then exasperate? Thou idle immaterial skein of sleave-silk, thou green sarsenet flap for a sore eye, thou tassel of a prodigal’s purse, thou! Ah, how the poor world is pestered with such waterflies! Diminutives of nature.

PATROCLUS Out, gall!

THERSITES Finch egg!

ACHILLES

My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite

From my great purpose in tomorrow’s battle.

Here is a letter from Queen Hecuba,

A token from her daughter, my fair love,

Both taxing me, and gaging me to keep

An oath that I have sworn. I will not break it.

Fall, Greeks; fail, fame; honour, or go or stay.

My major vow lies here; this I’ll obey.—

Come, come, Thersites, help to trim my tent.

This night in banqueting must all be spent.—

Away, Patroclus. Exeunt Achilles and Patroclus

THERSITES With too much blood and too little brain these two may run mad, but if with too much brain and too little blood they do, I’ll be a curer of madmen. Here’s Agamemnon: an honest fellow enough, and one that loves quails, but he has not so much brain as ear-wax. And the goodly transformation of Jupiter there, his brother the bull, the primitive statue and oblique memorial of cuckolds, a thrifty shoeing-horn in a chain, hanging at his brother’s leg: to what form but that he is should wit larded with malice and malice farced with wit turn him to? To an ass were nothing: he is both ass and ox. To an ox were nothing: he is both ox and ass. To be a dog, a mule, a cat, a fitchew, a toad, a lizard, an owl, a puttock, or a herring without a roe, I would not care; but to be Menetaus!—I would conspire against destiny. Ask me not what I would be if I were not Thersites, for I care not to be the louse of a lazar, so I were not Menetaus.—Hey-day, sprites and fires.