The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
Page 662
And find the welcome of a noble foe.
Good Lord Aeneas, let me shake your hand;
First of all I shall take you to my tent.
Achilles shall be told about this challenge;
and every Lord of Greece also, in each tent.
You shall eat with us before you go,
and accept the welcome due to a noble enemy.
Exeunt all but ULYSSES and NESTOR
ULYSSES.
Nestor!
Nestor!
NESTOR.
What says Ulysses?
What is it Ulysses?
ULYSSES.
I have a young conception in my brain;
Be you my time to bring it to some shape.
I have a plan forming in my brain;
help me to get it into shape.
NESTOR.
What is't?
What is it?
ULYSSES.
This 'tis:
Blunt wedges rive hard knots. The seeded pride
That hath to this maturity blown up
In rank Achilles must or now be cropp'd
Or, shedding, breed a nursery of like evil
To overbulk us all.
It's this:
blunt wedges can split tough knots. The pride
which has been planted in arrogant Achilles
must now be cut down or else
it will start to seed, growing a plantation of the same evil
which will tower over us all.
NESTOR.
Well, and how?
I agree, how will it be done?
ULYSSES.
This challenge that the gallant Hector sends,
However it is spread in general name,
Relates in purpose only to Achilles.
This challenge that the gallant Hector has sent,
however much it's issued to everyone,
it's really only aimed at Achilles.
NESTOR.
True. The purpose is perspicuous even as substance
Whose grossness little characters sum up;
And, in the publication, make no strain
But that Achilles, were his brain as barren
As banks of Libya-though, Apollo knows,
'Tis dry enough-will with great speed of judgment,
Ay, with celerity, find Hector's purpose
Pointing on him.
It's true. One can see the purpose
in the little details;
and when the public announcement is made it's certain
that Achilles, even if his brain was as empty
as the Libyan Desert–though, Apollo knows,
it's empty enough–will quickly come to realise,
yes, very swiftly, that Hector's plan
is aimed at him.
ULYSSES.
And wake him to the answer, think you?
And will he answer the challenge, do you think?
NESTOR.
Why, 'tis most meet. Who may you else oppose
That can from Hector bring those honours off,
If not Achilles? Though 't be a sportful combat,
Yet in this trial much opinion dwells;
For here the Troyans taste our dear'st repute
With their fin'st palate; and trust to me, Ulysses,
Our imputation shall be oddly pois'd
In this wild action; for the success,
Although particular, shall give a scantling
Of good or bad unto the general;
And in such indexes, although small pricks
To their subsequent volumes, there is seen
The baby figure of the giant mas
Of things to come at large. It is suppos'd
He that meets Hector issues from our choice;
And choice, being mutual act of all our souls,
Makes merit her election, and doth boil,
As 'twere from forth us all, a man distill'd
Out of our virtues; who miscarrying,
What heart receives from hence a conquering part,
To steel a strong opinion to themselves?
Which entertain'd, limbs are his instruments,
In no less working than are swords and bows
Directive by the limbs.
Yes, it must be him. Who else can you think of
who could stand up to Hector,
if not Achilles? Although it's not an extreme combat,
there is a lot of reputation at stake;
the Trojans are putting our reputation
to its most extreme test; and trust me, Ulysses,
our reputation will be very much at risk
in this dangerous business; for success,
although it would be in a specific area, will make
the people think that we will succeed in the greater battle,
and such indicators, although they are very small
compare to what comes later, often show
in miniature the enormous events
which are to come afterwards. It will be thought
that the one who challenges Hector is chosen by us;
and as we all join together in our choice,
the person who goes out to represent us
becomes a man representing all our virtues;
if he fails, how good it will make the Trojans feel,
they will think very well of themselves!
When a man feels like this, he fights better,
his limbs become his weapons, no less than
the swords and bows his limbs employ.
ULYSSES.
Give pardon to my speech.
Therefore 'tis meet Achilles meet not Hector.
Let us, like merchants, show our foulest wares
And think perchance they'll sell; if not, the lustre
Of the better yet to show shall show the better,
By showing the worst first. Do not consent
That ever Hector and Achilles meet;
For both our honour and our shame in this
Are dogg'd with two strange followers.
Excuse what I say:
so it's best if Achilles doesn't fight Hector.
Let's be like shopkeepers, show our worst goods,
and see if they will sell; if they don't,
the better goods which we've kept back
will look even better in comparison. Don't agree
to allow Hector and Achilles to ever meet,
for whatever happens it looks as though
we will come out of it badly.
NESTOR.
I see them not with my old eyes. What are they?
I can't see what you mean. What are the bad results?
ULYSSES.
What glory our Achilles shares from Hector,
Were he not proud, we all should wear with him;
But he already is too insolent;
And it were better parch in Afric sun
Than in the pride and salt scorn of his eyes,
Should he scape Hector fair. If he were foil'd,
Why, then we do our main opinion crush
In taint of our best man. No, make a lott'ry;
And, by device, let blockish Ajax draw
The sort to fight with Hector. Among ourselves
Give him allowance for the better man;
For that will physic the great Myrmidon,
Who broils in loud applause, and make him fall
His crest, that prouder than blue Iris bends.
If the dull brainless Ajax come safe off,
We'll dress him up in voices; if he fail,
Yet go we under our opinion still
That we have better men. But, hit or miss,
Our project's life this shape of sense assumes-
Ajax employ'd plucks down Achilles' plumes.
Any glory our Achilles gets from Hector,
if he wasn't arrogant, we would all share with him.
But he is already too proud;
it would be more co
mfortable to burn under the African sun
than to face the pride and bitter scorn in his eyes
if he beats great Hector. If he is beaten,
then we would lose the central pillar of our reputation
through the disgrace of our best man. No, we'll have a lottery,
and we'll trick blockheaded Ajax into drawing
the lot to fight with Hector; amongst ourselves
will say that Achilles is the better man,
for that will please him,
he loves to be praised, and he will
accept that he is not going to fight.
If the dull brainless Ajax comes out safely,
we should all applaud him; if he fails,
we can still maintain
that we have better men. But, win or lose,
the success of our projects comes down to this:
Ajax must take the place of Achilles.
NESTOR.
Now, Ulysses, I begin to relish thy advice;
And I will give a taste thereof 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.
Now, Ulysses, I think this is excellent advice,
and I will pass it on at once
to Agamemnon. Let's go to him right now.
Two dogs will calm each other; they will fight
for honour, like two mastiffs with a bone.
Exeunt
Enter Ajax and THERSITES
AJAX.
Thersites!
Thersites!
THERSITES.
Agamemnon-how if he had boils full, an over, generally?
Agamemnon–how would it be if he was covered in boils?
AJAX.
Thersites!
Thersites!
THERSITES.
And those boils did run-say so. Did not the general run
then? Were not that a botchy core?
And those boils started to run, let's say. Wouldn't the general run
then? Wouldn't he lack courage?
AJAX.
Dog!
Dog!
THERSITES.
Then there would come some matter from him;
I see none now.
Then we'd get something out of him;
we're getting nothing at the moment.
AJAX.
Thou bitch-wolf's son, canst thou not hear? Feel, then.
[Strikes him.]
You son of a bitch, are you deaf? Then feel this.
THERSITES.
The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel beef-witted
lord!
May a plague of Greece fall on you, you mongrel thick witted
lord!
AJAX.
Speak, then, thou whinid'st leaven, speak. I will beat thee
into handsomeness.
Speak then, you mouldy scum, speak. I'll beat you
into decency.
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!
It's more likely that I can abuse you into being intelligent and pious;
but I think it's more likely for your horse to learn a speech
than for you to learn a prayer by heart. You'll hit me will you?
A plague on your stroppy behaviour!
AJAX.
Toadstool, learn me the proclamation.
Toadstool, tell me about the proclamation.
THERSITES.
Dost thou think I have no sense, thou strikest me thus?
Do you think I have no feelings, striking me like this?
AJAX.
The proclamation!
The proclamation!
THERSITES.
Thou art proclaim'd, a fool, I think.
You have been proclaimed, a fool, I think.
AJAX.
Do not, porpentine, do not; my fingers itch.
Don't push me, porcupine; I'm itching to give you a beating.
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.
I wish you were itching from head to foot and I was
the one to scratch you; I would turn you into the most horrible scab in
Greece. When you go out to battle, you are as slow to strike
as any other.
AJAX.
I say, the proclamation.
I'm telling you, I want to hear about 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
Proserpina's beauty-ay, that thou bark'st at him.
You grumble and moan all the time about Achilles;
and you envy his greatness just as much as Cerberus envies
Proserpina's beauty–yes, so you bark at him.
AJAX.
Mistress Thersites!
Mistress Thersites!
THERSITES.
Thou shouldst strike him–
If you hit him–
AJAX.
Cobloaf!
You cobloaf!
THERSITES.
He would pun thee into shivers with his fist, as a
sailor breaks a biscuit.
He would smash you to smithereens with his fist, like a
sailor breaking a biscuit.
AJAX.
You whoreson cur! [Strikes him]
You son of a bitch!
THERSITES.
Do, do.
Go on, I dare you.
AJAX.
Thou stool for a witch!
You witch's toilet!
THERSITES.
Ay, do, do; thou sodden-witted lord! Thou hast no more
brain than I have in mine elbows; an assinico may tutor thee. You
scurvy valiant ass! Thou art here but to thrash Troyans, 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!
Yes, do it; you soggy brained lord! You have no more brains
than I have in my elbows; an idiot could teach you. You
shoddy-brave ass! You're only here to beat the Trojans, you're
exploited by those with any intelligence like a barbarian
slave. If you're going to beat me, I'll begin at your feet and tell
you what you are inch by inch, you gutless object!
AJAX.
You dog!
You dog!
THERSITES.
You scurvy lord!
You shabby lord!
AJAX.
You cur! [Strikes him]
You mongrel!
THERSITES.
Mars his idiot! Do, rudeness; do, camel; do, do.
This is the idiot of Mars! Go ahead, rude man, camel; go ahead.
Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS
ACHILLES.
Why, how now, Ajax! Wherefore do you thus?
How now, Thersites! What's the matter, man?
Hello there, Ajax! Why are you doing this?
Hello there, Thersites! What's the matter, man?
THERSITES.
You see him there, do you?
You see him there, do you?
ACHILLES.
Ay; what's the matter?
Yes; what's the matter?
THERSITES.
Nay, look upon him.
No, look at him.
ACHILLES.
So I do. What's
the matter?
I'm doing so. What's the matter?
THERSITES.
Nay, but regard him well.
No, look at him closely.
ACHILLES.
Well! why, so I do.
Alright! That's what I'm doing.
THERSITES.
But yet you look not well upon him; for who some ever
you take him to be, he is Ajax.
But you're not looking closely at him; whoever
you think is, he is Ajax.
ACHILLES.
I know that, fool.
I know that, fool.
THERSITES.
Ay, but that fool knows not himself.
Yes, but that fool doesn't know who he is.
AJAX.
Therefore I beat thee.
This is what I beat you for.
THERSITES.
Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters! His
evasions have ears thus long. I have bobb'd his brain more than
he has beat my bones. I will buy nine sparrows for a penny, and
his pia mater is not worth the ninth part of a sparrow. This
lord, Achilles, Ajax-who wears his wit in his belly and his guts
in his head-I'll tell you what I say of him.
Hello hello hello, what specks of wit he comes out with!
His attempts are like an ass'. I have beaten his brain more often