Comparison of William Shakespeare Troilus and Cressida 5.1 to William Shakespeare

Patroclus, let us feast him to the height.

Here comes Thersites. How now, thou core of envy?

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

From whence, fragment?

Prithee be silent, boy, I profit not by thy talk. Thou art said to be Achilles’ male varlot.

Male varlot, you rogue! What’s that?

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

No? Why art thou then exasperate, thou idle immaterial skein of sleave-silk, thou green sarcenet flap for a sore eye, thou tossel of a prodigal’s purse, thou? Ah, how the poor world is pest’red with such water-flies, diminutives of nature!

Here is a letter from Queen Hecuba,

Both taxing me and gaging me to keep

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

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

This night in banqueting must all be spent.

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 fac’d 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 moile, a cat, a fitchook, a toad, a lezard, an owl, a puttock, or a herring without a roe, I would not care; but to be Menelaus, 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 Menelaus. Hey-day! Sprites and fires!

There where we see the lights. I trouble you.

No, not a whit. Here comes himself to guide you.

Welcome, brave Hector, welcome, princes all.

Thanks and good night to the Greeks’ general.

Good night, my lord. Good night, sweet Lord Menelaus.

Good night and welcome, both at once, to those

Keep Hector company an hour or two.

The tide whereof is now. Good night, great Hector.

Follow his torch, he goes to Calchas’ tent.

I’ll keep you company. Sweet sir, you honor me.

That same Diomed’s a false-hearted rogue, a most unjust knave. I will no more trust him when he leers than I will a serpent when he hisses. He will spend his mouth and promise, like Brabbler the hound, but when he performs, astronomers foretell it: it is prodigious, there will come some change; the sun borrows of the moon when Diomed keeps his word. I will rather leave to see Hector than not to dog him. They say he keeps a Troyan drab, and uses the traitor Calchas’ tent. I’ll after — nothing but lechery! All incontinent varlots!