Speeches (Lines) for Ajax in "Troilus and Cressida"

Nestor. Ulysses,
Now I begin to relish thy advice;
And I will give a taste of it forthwith
To Agamemnon: go we to him straight.
Two curs shall tame each other: pride alone
Must tarre the mastiffs on, as 'twere their bone.

Ajax. Thersites!

Thersites. Agamemnon, how if he had boils? full, all over,
generally?

Ajax. Thersites!

Thersites. And those boils did run? say so: did not the
general run then? were not that a botchy core?

Ajax. Dog!

Thersites. Then would come some matter from him; I see none now.

Ajax. Thou bitch-wolf's son, canst thou not hear?
[Beating him]
Feel, then.

Thersites. The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel
beef-witted lord!

Ajax. Speak then, thou vinewedst leaven, speak: I will
beat thee into handsomeness.

Thersites. I shall sooner rail thee into wit and holiness: but,
I think, thy horse will sooner con an oration than
thou learn a prayer without book. Thou canst strike,
canst thou? a red murrain o' thy jade's tricks!

Ajax. Toadstool, learn me the proclamation.

Thersites. Dost thou think I have no sense, thou strikest me thus?

Ajax. The proclamation!

Thersites. Thou art proclaimed a fool, I think.

Ajax. Do not, porpentine, do not: my fingers itch.

Thersites. 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, thou strikest as slow as another.

Ajax. I say, the proclamation!

Thersites. Thou grumblest and railest every hour on Achilles,
and thou art as full of envy at his greatness as
Cerberus is at Proserpine's beauty, ay, that thou
barkest at him.

Ajax. Mistress Thersites!

Thersites. Thou shouldest strike him.

Ajax. Cobloaf!

Thersites. He would pun thee into shivers with his fist, as a
sailor breaks a biscuit.

Ajax. [Beating him] You whoreson cur!

Thersites. Do, do.

Ajax. Thou stool for a witch!

Thersites. Ay, do, do; thou sodden-witted lord! thou hast no
more brain than I have in mine elbows; an assinego
may tutor thee: thou scurvy-valiant ass! thou art
here but to thrash Trojans; and thou art bought and
sold among 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!

Ajax. You dog!

Thersites. You scurvy lord!

Ajax. [Beating him] You cur!

Thersites. Ay, but that fool knows not himself.

Ajax. Therefore I beat thee.

Thersites. I would have peace and quietness, but the fool will
not: he there: that he: look you there.

Ajax. O thou damned cur! I shall--

Achilles. What's the quarrel?

Ajax. I bade the vile owl go learn me the tenor of the
proclamation, and he rails upon me.

Thersites. I serve thee not.

Ajax. Well, go to, go to.

Thersites. Yes, good sooth: to, Achilles! to, Ajax! to!

Ajax. I shall cut out your tongue.

Achilles. Marry, this, sir, is proclaim'd through all our host:
That Hector, by the fifth hour of the sun,
Will with a trumpet 'twixt our tents and Troy
To-morrow morning call some knight to arms
That hath a stomach; and such a one that dare
Maintain--I know not what: 'tis trash. Farewell.

Ajax. Farewell. Who shall answer him?

Achilles. I know not: 'tis put to lottery; otherwise
He knew his man.

Ajax. O, meaning you. I will go learn more of it.

Ulysses. We saw him at the opening of his tent:
He is not sick.

Ajax. Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart: you may call it
melancholy, if you will favour the man; but, by my
head, 'tis pride: but why, why? let him show us the
cause. A word, my lord.

Agamemnon. In second voice we'll not be satisfied;
We come to speak with him. Ulysses, enter you.

Ajax. What is he more than another?

Agamemnon. No more than what he thinks he is.

Ajax. Is he so much? Do you not think he thinks himself a
better man than I am?

Agamemnon. No question.

Ajax. Will you subscribe his thought, and say he is?

Agamemnon. No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as valiant, as
wise, no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether
more tractable.

Ajax. Why should a man be proud? How doth pride grow? I
know not what pride is.

Agamemnon. Your mind is the clearer, Ajax, and your virtues the
fairer. He that is proud eats up himself: pride is
his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle;
and whatever praises itself but in the deed, devours
the deed in the praise.

Ajax. I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendering of toads.

Diomedes. [Aside to NESTOR] And how his silence drinks up
this applause!

Ajax. If I go to him, with my armed fist I'll pash him o'er the face.

Agamemnon. O, no, you shall not go.

Ajax. An a' be proud with me, I'll pheeze his pride:
Let me go to him.

Ulysses. Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.

Ajax. A paltry, insolent fellow!

Nestor. How he describes himself!

Ajax. Can he not be sociable?

Ulysses. The raven chides blackness.

Ajax. I'll let his humours blood.

Agamemnon. He will be the physician that should be the patient.

Ajax. An all men were o' my mind,--

Ulysses. Wit would be out of fashion.

Ajax. A' should not bear it so, a' should eat swords first:
shall pride carry it?

Ulysses. A' would have ten shares.

Ajax. I will knead him; I'll make him supple.

Ulysses. Know the whole world, he is as valiant.

Ajax. A whoreson dog, that shall pelter thus with us!
Would he were a Trojan!

Ulysses. Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet composure;
Praise him that got thee, she that gave thee suck:
Famed be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature
Thrice famed, beyond all erudition:
But he that disciplined thy arms to fight,
Let Mars divide eternity in twain,
And give him half: and, for thy vigour,
Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield
To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom,
Which, like a bourn, a pale, a shore, confines
Thy spacious and dilated parts: here's Nestor;
Instructed by the antiquary times,
He must, he is, he cannot but be wise:
Put pardon, father Nestor, were your days
As green as Ajax' and your brain so temper'd,
You should not have the eminence of him,
But be as Ajax.

Ajax. Shall I call you father?

Achilles. What, does the cuckold scorn me?

Ajax. How now, Patroclus!

Achilles. Good morrow, Ajax.

Ajax. Ha?

Achilles. Good morrow.

Ajax. Ay, and good next day too.

Agamemnon. Here art thou in appointment fresh and fair,
Anticipating time with starting courage.
Give with thy trumpet a loud note to Troy,
Thou dreadful Ajax; that the appalled air
May pierce the head of the great combatant
And hale him hither.

Ajax. Thou, trumpet, there's my purse.
Now crack thy lungs, and split thy brazen pipe:
Blow, villain, till thy sphered bias cheek
Outswell the colic of puff'd Aquilon:
Come, stretch thy chest and let thy eyes spout blood;
Thou blow'st for Hector.

Aeneas. Princes, enough, so please you.

Ajax. I am not warm yet; let us fight again.

Hector. Why, then will I no more:
Thou art, great lord, my father's sister's son,
A cousin-german to great Priam's seed;
The obligation of our blood forbids
A gory emulation 'twixt us twain:
Were thy commixtion Greek and Trojan so
That thou couldst say 'This hand is Grecian all,
And this is Trojan; the sinews of this leg
All Greek, and this all Troy; my mother's blood
Runs on the dexter cheek, and this sinister
Bounds in my father's;' by Jove multipotent,
Thou shouldst not bear from me a Greekish member
Wherein my sword had not impressure made
Of our rank feud: but the just gods gainsay
That any drop thou borrow'dst from thy mother,
My sacred aunt, should by my mortal sword
Be drain'd! Let me embrace thee, Ajax:
By him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms;
Hector would have them fall upon him thus:
Cousin, all honour to thee!

Ajax. I thank thee, Hector
Thou art too gentle and too free a man:
I came to kill thee, cousin, and bear hence
A great addition earned in thy death.

Hector. We'll answer it;
The issue is embracement: Ajax, farewell.

Ajax. If I might in entreaties find success--
As seld I have the chance--I would desire
My famous cousin to our Grecian tents.

Hector. AEneas, call my brother Troilus to me,
And signify this loving interview
To the expecters of our Trojan part;
Desire them home. Give me thy hand, my cousin;
I will go eat with thee and see your knights.

Ajax. Great Agamemnon comes to meet us here.

Hector. Wert thou an 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 every where, 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.

Agamemnon. We go wrong, we go wrong.

Ajax. No, yonder 'tis;
There, where we see the lights.

Hector. I trouble you.

Ajax. No, not a whit.

Ulysses. O, courage, courage, princes! great Achilles
Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance:
Patroclus' wounds have roused his drowsy blood,
Together with his mangled Myrmidons,
That noseless, handless, hack'd and chipp'd, come to him,
Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend
And foams at mouth, and he is arm'd and at it,
Roaring for Troilus, who hath done to-day
Mad and fantastic execution,
Engaging and redeeming of himself
With such a careless force and forceless care
As if that luck, in very spite of cunning,
Bade him win all.

Ajax. Troilus! thou coward Troilus!

Achilles. Where is this Hector?
Come, come, thou boy-queller, show thy face;
Know what it is to meet Achilles angry:
Hector? where's Hector? I will none but Hector.

Ajax. Troilus, thou coward Troilus, show thy head!

Diomedes. Troilus, I say! where's Troilus?

Ajax. What wouldst thou?

Diomedes. I would correct him.

Ajax. Were I the general, thou shouldst have my office
Ere that correction. Troilus, I say! what, Troilus!

Diomedes. Ha, art thou there?

Ajax. I'll fight with him alone: stand, Diomed.

Diomedes. The bruit is, Hector's slain, and by Achilles.

Ajax. If it be so, yet bragless let it be;
Great Hector was a man as good as he.