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  • Title: Troilus and Cressida (Quarto 1, 1609)
  • Editor: William Godshalk
  • ISBN: 1-55058-301-8

    Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: William Godshalk
    Peer Reviewed

    Troilus and Cressida (Quarto 1, 1609)

    The history
    Aiax. I say the proclamation.
    Ther. Thou gromblest and raylest euery houre on Achil-
    les, and thou art as full of enuy at his greatnesse, as Cerberus
    890is at Proserpinas beauty, I that thou barkst at him.
    Aiax. Mistres Thersites.
    Ther. Thou shouldst strike him. AiaxCoblofe,
    Hee would punne thee into shiuers with his fist, as a sayler
    895breakes a bisket, you horson curre. Do? do?
    Aiax: Thou stoole for a witch:
    Ther. I, Do? do? thou sodden witted Lord, thou hast
    no more braine then I haue in mine elbowes, an Asinico
    900may tutor thee, you scuruy valiant asse, thou art heere but to
    thrash Troyans, and thou art bought and sould among those
    of any wit, like a Barbarian slaue. If thou vse to beate mee I
    will beginne at thy heele, and tell what thou art by ynches,
    thou thing of no bowells thou.
    905Aiax. You dog: Ther. You scuruy Lord.
    Aiax. You curre.
    Ther. Mars his Idiot, do rudenesse, do Camel, do, do.
    910Achil. Why how now Aiax wherefore do yee thus,
    How now Thersites whats the matter man.
    Ther. You see him there? do you?
    Achil. I whats the matter. Ther: Nay looke vpon him.
    915Achil: So I do, whats the matter?
    Ther: Nay but regard him well.
    Achil: Well, why so I do.
    Ther: But yet you looke not well vpon him, for who some
    euer you take him to be he is Aiax.
    920Achil. I know that foole.
    Ther. I but that foole knowes not himselfe.
    Aiax: Therefore I beate thee.
    Ther: Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he vtters, his eua-
    sions haue eares thus long, I haue bobd his braine more then
    925he has beate my bones. It will buy nine sparrowes for a pen-
    ny, and his pia mater is not worth the ninth part of a spar-
    row: this Lord (Achilles) Aiax, who weares his wit in his bel-
    ly, and his guts in his head, I tell you what I say of him.
    930Ach. What. Ther. I say this Aiax.
    Achil.