Ajax: I shall cut out your tongue.
Thersites: Tis no matter, I shall speak as much as thou afterwards.
Patroclus: No more words, Thersites, peace!
Thersites: I will hold my peace when Achilles' brach bids me, shall I?
Achilles: There's for you, Patroclus.
Thersites: I will see you hang'd like clatpoles ere I come any more to your tents. I will keep where there is wit stirring, and leave the faction of fools. [Exit]
Patroclus: A good riddance.
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