The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (1088 page)

I'm not your servant.

AJAX.

Well, go to, go to.

Well, whatever.

THERSITES.

I serve here voluntary.

I serve here voluntarily.

ACHILLES.

Your last service was suff'rance; 'twas not voluntary. No

man is beaten voluntary. Ajax was here the voluntary, and you as

under an impress.

The beating you just got was suffering; it wasn't voluntary.

No man volunteers to be beaten. Ajax was the volunteer,

you were conscripted.

THERSITES.

E'en so; a great deal of your wit too lies in your

sinews, or else there be liars. Hector shall have a great catch

an he knock out either of your brains: 'a were as good crack a

fusty nut with no kernel.

Exactly; you also have most of your brains in your

muscles, if people aren't lying. Hector won't get much

if he tries to knock out either of your brains: he might as well crack a

rottennut with no meat.

ACHILLES.

What, with me too, Thersites?

That applies to me too, Thersites?

THERSITES.

There's Ulysses and old Nestor-whose wit was mouldy ere

your grandsires had nails on their toes-yoke you like draught

oxen, and make you plough up the wars.

There is Ulysses and old Nestor–whose brains

were mouldy before your grandfathers were born–they control you

like farm animals, and make you slave in their wars.

ACHILLES.

What, what?

What, what?

THERSITES.

Yes, good sooth. To Achilles, to Ajax, to!

Yes indeed. Yah, Achilles, giddyup Ajax!

AJAX.

I shall cut out your tongue.

I shall cut out your tongue.

THERSITES.

'Tis no matter; I shall speak as much as thou

afterwards.

It doesn't matter; I'll speak as much sense as you

afterwards.

PATROCLUS.

No more words, Thersites; peace!

That's enough from you,Thersites; quiet!

THERSITES.

I will hold my peace when Achilles' brach bids me, shall

I?

So I should be quiet when Achilles' tart tells me to?

ACHILLES.

There's for you, Patroclus.

He's got you there, Patroclus.

THERSITES.

I will see you hang'd like clotpoles ere I come any more

to your tents. I will keep where there is wit stirring, and leave

the faction of fools.

I'll see you hang like the blockheads you are before I come

back to your tents. I'll stay where there are some brains,

and leave this group of fools alone.

Exit

PATROCLUS.

A good riddance.

Good riddance.

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.

Now, sir, this is announced through all our army,

that Hector, five hours after sunrise,

will sound a trumpet betweenour tents and Troy,

tomorrow morning, challenging any knight

who dares to face him; and anyone that dares

say–I don't know what; it's rubbish. Farewell.

AJAX.

Farewell. Who shall answer him?

Farewell. Who will fight him?

ACHILLES.

I know not; 'tis put to lott'ry. Otherwise he knew his

man.

I don't know; they are drawing lots. Otherwise he knew

who he would get.

AJAX.

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

Oh, meaning you! I will go and learn more about it.

Exeunt

Enter PRIAM, HECTOR, TROILUS, PARIS, and HELENUS

PRIAM.

After so many hours, lives, speeches, spent,

Thus once again says Nestor from the Greeks:

'Deliver Helen, and all damage else-

As honour, loss of time, travail, expense,

Wounds, friends, and what else dear that is consum'd

In hot digestion of this cormorant war-

Shall be struck off.' Hector, what say you to't?

After the waste of so much time, so many speeches, so many lives,

Nestor has once again sent us a message from the Greeks:

‘Hand over Helen, and all other damages–

such as the damage to honour, the loss of time, hardship, expense,

wounds, loss of friends, and everything else precious

that has been gobbled up in this greedy war–

will be written off.’ Hector, what do you think of that?

HECTOR.

Though no man lesser fears the Greeks than I,

As far as toucheth my particular,

Yet, dread Priam,

There is no lady of more softer bowels,

More spongy to suck in the sense of fear,

More ready to cry out 'Who knows what follows?'

Than Hector is. The wound of peace is surety,

Surety secure; but modest doubt is call'd

The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches

To th' bottom of the worst. Let Helen go.

Since the first sword was drawn about this question,

Every tithe soul 'mongst many thousand dismes

Hath been as dear as Helen-I mean, of ours.

If we have lost so many tenths of ours

To guard a thing not ours, nor worth to us,

Had it our name, the value of one ten,

What merit's in that reason which denies

The yielding of her up?

Although no man is less afraid of the Greeks than I,

as far as it affects me personally,

but, great Priam,

there is no lady who has a greater sense of pity,

who is more ready to become worried,

more ready to cry out, ‘who knows what will happen afterwards?’

than Hector is. Thegreatest threat to peace is overconfidence

and the feeling of safetyit gives; sensible caution is called

the guiding light of the wise, the probe that searches

until it discovers the worst. Let Helen go.

Since this war began on this matter,

every soul that war has claimed from us from many thousands

was as important as Helen–I meanour men.

If we have lost so many lives

to guard something that's not ours, and not worth

(even if she was Trojan) the value of one soul,

how can anybody justify not

giving her up?

TROILUS.

Fie, fie, my brother!

Weigh you the worth and honour of a king,

So great as our dread father's, in a scale

Of common ounces? Will you with counters sum

The past-proportion of his infinite,

And buckle in a waist most fathomless

With spans and inches so diminutive

As fears and reasons? Fie, for godly shame!

Come, come, my brother!

Do you reckon the value and honour of King,

as great as our magnificent father, can be measured

against ordinary lives? Can you calculate

his incalculable greatness with counters,

and measure such a great person

with such tiny units of measurement

as fears and reasons? Shame on you, for God's sake!

HELENUS.

No marvel though you bite so sharp at reasons,

You are so empty of them. Should not our father

Bear the great sway of his affairs with reasons,

Because your speech hath none that tells him so?

It's no wonder that you object so much to reason,

as you have none of it. Shouldn't our father

govern his great affairs with reason,

especially as you tell him not to?

TROILUS.

You are for dreams and slumbers, brother priest;

You fur your gloves with reason. Here are your reasons:

You know an enemy intends you harm;

You know a sword employ'd is perilous,

And reason flies the object of all harm.

Who marvels, then, when Helenus beholds

A Grecian and his sword, if he do set

The very wings of reason to his heels

And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove,

Or like a star disorb'd? Nay, if we talk of reason,

Let's shut our gates and sleep. Manhood and honour

Should have hare hearts, would they but fat their thoughts

With this cramm'd reason. Reason and respect

Make livers pale and lustihood deject.

You are made for dreams and sleeping, my priestly brother;

you make yourself comfortable with reason. Here are your

reasons:

you know an enemy intends to harm you;

you know that swords are dangerous,

and reason runs away from anything that can harm it.

Is anyone surprised, then, that when Helenus sees

a Greek with his sword,he puts

the wings of reason on his heels,

and flies like scolded Mercury away from Jove,

like a shooting star? If we're going to talk about reason,

let's close our gates and sleep. Manhood and honour

would be as timid as rabbits, if all they fed their thoughts on

was this fatty reason; reason and caution

make the blood thin and the body weak.

HECTOR.

Brother, she is not worth what she doth cost

The keeping.

Brother, she is not worth what it costs us

to keep her.

TROILUS.

What's aught but as 'tis valued?

What's anything worth apart from the value you give it?

HECTOR.

But value dwells not in particular will:

It holds his estimate and dignity

As well wherein 'tis precious of itself

As in the prizer. 'Tis mad idolatry