Troilus and Cressida: Act 2, Scene 1 Translation

A side-by-side translation of Act 2, Scene 1 of Troilus and Cressida from the original Shakespeare into modern English.

Original Text	Translated Text
Source: Folger Shakespeare Library
Enter Ajax and Thersites. 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 5 general run, then? Were not that a botchy core? AJAX Dog! THERSITES Then there would come some matter from him. I see none now. AJAX Thou bitchwolf’s son, canst thou not hear? Feel, 10 then. Strikes him. THERSITES The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel beef-witted lord! AJAX Speak, then, thou unsalted leaven, speak. I will beat thee into handsomeness. 15 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. 20 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. 25 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. 30 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 Proserpina’s beauty, ay, that thou bark’st at him. 35 AJAX Mistress Thersites! THERSITES Thou shouldst strike him— AJAX Cobloaf! THERSITES He would pound thee into shivers with his fist as a sailor breaks a biscuit. 40 AJAX You whoreson cur! Strikes him.	Elsewhere in the Greek camp, Ajax yells at his slave Thersites, who ignores him and talks smack about what it would be like if Agamemnon had a bunch of nasty, oozing boils and skin ulcers. Ajax is enraged when his slave blows him off. He asks him if he's deaf and calls him a bunch of names like "dog," "bitch-wolf's son," "Toadstool," "cobloaf," and so on. Quick brain snack: a "cob loaf" is an ugly, misshapen piece of bread; a "toadstool" is a poisonous mushroom. Also—hmm. Looks like the Greek camp really is in chaos and disorder. Just in case Thersites doesn't know he's in trouble, Ajax beats him...repeatedly.
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 45 asinego 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 50 thing of no bowels, thou. AJAX You dog! THERSITES You scurvy lord! AJAX You cur! Strikes him. THERSITES Mars his idiot! Do, rudeness, do, camel, do, 55 do.	What does Thersites do? He eggs on Ajax and encourages the guy to beat him some more. Finally, Thersites calls Ajax an idiot and tells him to admit that when it comes to trash-talk, Thersites totally owns him.
Enter Achilles and Patroclus. ACHILLES Why, how now, Ajax? Wherefore do you thus?—How now, Thersites? What’s the matter, man? THERSITES You see him there, do you? 60 ACHILLES Ay, what’s the matter? THERSITES Nay, look upon him. ACHILLES So I do. What’s the matter? THERSITES Nay, but regard him well. ACHILLES Well, why, so I do. 65 THERSITES But yet you look not well upon him, for whosomever you take him to be, he is Ajax. ACHILLES I know that, fool. THERSITES Ay, but that fool knows not himself. AJAX Therefore I beat thee. 70 THERSITES Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters! His evasions have ears thus long. I have bobbed 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. 75 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. ACHILLES What? THERSITES I say, this Ajax— Ajax menaces him. 80 ACHILLES Nay, good Ajax. THERSITES Has not so much wit— ACHILLES, to Ajax Nay, I must hold you. THERSITES As will stop the eye of Helen’s needle, for whom he comes to fight. 85 ACHILLES Peace, fool! 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— ACHILLESWill you set your wit to a fool’s? 90 THERSITES No, I warrant you. The fool’s will shame it. PATROCLUS Good words, Thersites. ACHILLES, to Ajax What’s the quarrel? AJAX I bade the vile owl go learn me the tenor of the proclamation, and he rails upon me. 95 THERSITES I serve thee not. AJAX Well, go to, go to. THERSITES I serve here voluntary. ACHILLES Your last service was suff’rance; ’twas not voluntary. No man is beaten voluntary. Ajax was 100 here the voluntary, and you as under an impress. 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; he were as good crack a fusty nut with 105 no kernel. ACHILLES What, with me too, Thersites? THERSITES There’s Ulysses and old Nestor—whose wit was moldy ere your grandsires had nails on their toes—yoke you like draft-oxen and make 110 you plow up the wars. ACHILLES What? What? THERSITES Yes, good sooth. To, Achilles! To, Ajax! To— AJAX I shall cut out your tongue. THERSITES ’Tis no matter. I shall speak as much as 115 thou afterwards. PATROCLUS No more words, Thersites. Peace. THERSITESI will hold my peace when Achilles’ brach bids me, shall I? ACHILLES There’s for you, Patroclus. 120 THERSITES I will see you hanged like clodpolls ere I come any more to your tents. I will keep where there is wit stirring and leave the faction of fools. He exits.	Tired of lazing about in their tent, Achilles and Patroclus show up and want to know what's going on. We find out that Ajax wants Thersites to find out about a proclamation that's just been issued, but Thersites refuses. Thersites keeps talking smack to his master and gets into a spat with Achilles. Then he storms off.
PATROCLUS A good riddance. ACHILLES, to Ajax Marry, this, sir, is proclaimed through all our host: 125 That Hector, by the fifth hour of the sun, Will with a trumpet ’twixt our tents and Troy Tomorrow morning call some knight to arms That hath a stomach, and such a one that dare Maintain—I know not what; ’tis trash. Farewell. 130 AJAX Farewell. Who shall answer him? ACHILLES I know not. ’Tis put to lott’ry. Otherwise, He knew his man. Achilles and Patroclus exit. AJAX O, meaning you? I will go learn more of it. He exits.	Luckily, Achilles knows what's up. He tells Ajax that the proclamation is about the lottery to see who's going to throw down with Hector. Achilles brags that if there wasn't going to be a lottery, he'd be the guy chosen to fight, since he's so awesome. Ajax is all, "whatever, man." But hey! It looks like the plot might work.

Original Text

Translated Text

Source: Folger Shakespeare Library

Enter Ajax and Thersites.

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 5
general run, then? Were not that a botchy core?

AJAX Dog!

THERSITES
Then there would come some matter
from him. I see none now.

AJAX
Thou bitchwolf’s son, canst thou not hear? Feel, 10
then. Strikes him.

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

AJAX
Speak, then, thou unsalted leaven, speak. I will
beat thee into handsomeness. 15

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. 20

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. 25

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. 30

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 Proserpina’s beauty, ay, that
thou bark’st at him. 35

AJAX
Mistress Thersites!

THERSITES
Thou shouldst strike him—

AJAX
Cobloaf!

THERSITES
He would pound thee into shivers with his
fist as a sailor breaks a biscuit. 40

AJAX
You whoreson cur! Strikes him.

Elsewhere in the Greek camp, Ajax yells at his slave Thersites, who ignores him and talks smack about what it would be like if Agamemnon had a bunch of nasty, oozing boils and skin ulcers.

Ajax is enraged when his slave blows him off. He asks him if he's deaf and calls him a bunch of names like "dog," "bitch-wolf's son," "Toadstool," "cobloaf," and so on.

Quick brain snack: a "cob loaf" is an ugly, misshapen piece of bread; a "toadstool" is a poisonous mushroom. Also—hmm. Looks like the Greek camp really is in chaos and disorder.

Just in case Thersites doesn't know he's in trouble, Ajax beats him...repeatedly.

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 45
asinego 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 50
thing of no bowels, thou.

AJAX
You dog!

THERSITES
You scurvy lord!

AJAX
You cur! Strikes him.

THERSITES
Mars his idiot! Do, rudeness, do, camel, do, 55
do.

What does Thersites do? He eggs on Ajax and encourages the guy to beat him some more.

Finally, Thersites calls Ajax an idiot and tells him to admit that when it comes to trash-talk, Thersites totally owns him.

Enter Achilles and Patroclus.

ACHILLES Why, how now, Ajax? Wherefore do you
thus?—How now, Thersites? What’s the matter,
man?

THERSITES
You see him there, do you? 60

ACHILLES
Ay, what’s the matter?

THERSITES
Nay, look upon him.

ACHILLES
So I do. What’s the matter?

THERSITES
Nay, but regard him well.

ACHILLES
Well, why, so I do. 65

THERSITES
But yet you look not well upon him, for
whosomever you take him to be, he is Ajax.

ACHILLES
I know that, fool.

THERSITES Ay, but that fool knows not himself.

AJAX
Therefore I beat thee. 70

THERSITES
Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters!
His evasions have ears thus long. I have
bobbed 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. 75
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.

ACHILLES
What?

THERSITES
I say, this Ajax— Ajax menaces him. 80

ACHILLES Nay, good Ajax.

THERSITES
Has not so much wit—

ACHILLES, to Ajax
Nay, I must hold you.

THERSITES
As will stop the eye of Helen’s needle, for
whom he comes to fight. 85

ACHILLES
Peace, fool!

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—

ACHILLESWill you set your wit to a fool’s? 90

THERSITES
No, I warrant you. The fool’s will shame it.

PATROCLUS
Good words, Thersites.

ACHILLES, to Ajax
What’s the quarrel?

AJAX
I bade the vile owl go learn me the tenor of the
proclamation, and he rails upon me. 95

THERSITES
I serve thee not.

AJAX
Well, go to, go to.

THERSITES I serve here voluntary.

ACHILLES
Your last service was suff’rance; ’twas not
voluntary. No man is beaten voluntary. Ajax was 100
here the voluntary, and you as under an impress.

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; he were as good crack a fusty nut with 105
no kernel.

ACHILLES
What, with me too, Thersites?

THERSITES
There’s Ulysses and old Nestor—whose wit
was moldy ere your grandsires had nails on
their toes—yoke you like draft-oxen and make 110
you plow up the wars.

ACHILLES What? What?

THERSITES
Yes, good sooth. To, Achilles! To, Ajax! To—

AJAX
I shall cut out your tongue.

THERSITES
’Tis no matter. I shall speak as much as 115
thou afterwards.

PATROCLUS
No more words, Thersites. Peace.

THERSITESI will hold my peace when Achilles’ brach
bids me, shall I?

ACHILLES There’s for you, Patroclus. 120

THERSITES
I will see you hanged like clodpolls ere I
come any more to your tents. I will keep where
there is wit stirring and leave the faction of fools.

He exits.

Tired of lazing about in their tent, Achilles and Patroclus show up and want to know what's going on.

We find out that Ajax wants Thersites to find out about a proclamation that's just been issued, but Thersites refuses.

Thersites keeps talking smack to his master and gets into a spat with Achilles. Then he storms off.

PATROCLUS
A good riddance.

ACHILLES, to Ajax
Marry, this, sir, is proclaimed through all our host: 125
That Hector, by the fifth hour of the sun,
Will with a trumpet ’twixt our tents and Troy
Tomorrow morning call some knight to arms
That hath a stomach, and such a one that dare
Maintain—I know not what; ’tis trash. Farewell. 130

AJAX
Farewell. Who shall answer him?

ACHILLES
I know not. ’Tis put to lott’ry. Otherwise,
He knew his man.

Achilles and Patroclus exit.

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

He exits.

Luckily, Achilles knows what's up. He tells Ajax that the proclamation is about the lottery to see who's going to throw down with Hector.

Achilles brags that if there wasn't going to be a lottery, he'd be the guy chosen to fight, since he's so awesome.

Ajax is all, "whatever, man." But hey! It looks like the plot might work.

Troilus and Cressida: Act 2, Scene 1 Translation

A side-by-side translation of Act 2, Scene 1 of Troilus and Cressida from the original Shakespeare into modern English.

Original Text

Translated Text

Tired of ads?