Here is a line-by-line modern paraphrase of Thersites’ monologue from Troilus and Cressida (Act 2, Scene 3):

Original: How now, Thersites! what lost in the labyrinth of thy fury!
Modern: Well now, Thersites! Are you completely lost inside your own rage?

Original: Shall the elephant Ajax carry it thus?
Modern: Is that big brute Ajax really going to get away with this?

Original: He beats me, and I rail at him: O, worthy satisfaction!
Modern: He beats me up, and all I can do is yell at him — oh, what a great outcome for me!

Original: would it were otherwise; that I could beat him, whilst he railed at me.
Modern: I wish it were the other way around — that I could be the one beating him while he just screamed at me.

Original: ‘Sfoot, I’ll learn to conjure and raise devils, but I’ll see some issue of my spiteful execrations.
Modern: By God’s foot, I swear I’ll learn witchcraft and summon demons if that’s what it takes to get some results from all my angry cursing.

Original: Then there’s Achilles, a rare enginer!
Modern: And then there’s Achilles — what a brilliant military mastermind he is! (said sarcastically)

Original: If Troy be not taken till these two undermine it, the walls will stand till they fall of themselves.
Modern: If the fall of Troy depends on those two to bring it down, those walls will be standing until they crumble on their own from old age.

Original: O thou great thunder-darter of Olympus, forget that thou art Jove, the king of gods
Modern: Oh great Zeus, you who hurl thunderbolts from Olympus — go ahead and forget that you’re the king of all the gods —

Original: and, Mercury, lose all the serpentine craft of thy caduceus,
Modern: — and Mercury, go ahead and lose all the cunning, twisting power of your magic staff —

Original: if ye take not that little, little less than little wit from them that they have!
Modern: — because you two gods might as well give up your powers if you can’t manage to steal away the tiny — no, less than tiny — bit of brains those two men actually have!

Original: which short-armed ignorance itself knows is so abundant scarce,
Modern: Even the most simple-minded fool can see that their intelligence is so incredibly rare and scarce —

Original: it will not in circumvention deliver a fly from a spider, without drawing their massy irons and cutting the web.
Modern: — that they couldn’t cleverly free a fly from a spider’s web without pulling out their heavy swords and hacking right through it.

Original: After this, the vengeance on the whole camp!
Modern: And a curse on the whole army while I’m at it!

Original: or rather, the bone-ache! for that, methinks, is the curse dependent on those that war for a placket.
Modern: Or better yet — may they all get syphilis! Because that, I think, is exactly the right punishment for men who go to war over a woman’s skirt.

Original: I have said my prayers and devil Envy say Amen.
Modern: I’ve said my prayers, and now let the devil of Envy himself say “Amen” to all of it.

Original: What ho! my Lord Achilles!
Modern: Hey there! My Lord Achilles!

A note for performers: Thersites is Shakespeare’s great cynic and satirist. His rage is theatrical and self-aware — he knows he’s performing his own fury. The humor is dark and biting, and the physical comedy of a small, weak man raging against powerful warriors is central to the scene. Play the sarcasm broadly and enjoy every insult.

In Act II, Scene iii of “Troilus and Cressida,” Thersites opens the scene with a bitter soliloquy, railing against Ajax and calling down diseases and curses upon him. When Ajax enters, he demands that Thersites proclaim him throughout the Greek camp, but Thersites responds with characteristic mockery and insults, repeatedly calling Ajax a fool and comparing him unfavorably to Achilles. Their verbal sparring escalates to physical violence when Ajax begins beating Thersites, who continues to taunt him even while being struck. Achilles and Patroclus arrive to interrupt the beating, and Achilles questions why Ajax is abusing Thersites, though he shows little real concern for the situation.

The conversation shifts when Achilles learns that Ajax has been chosen by the Greek generals to fight Hector in single combat instead of himself. Thersites mocks both warriors throughout this exchange, particularly deriding Ajax’s pride and stupidity. Agamemnon, Ulysses, Nestor, and Diomedes arrive to escort Ajax to a council of war, flattering him extensively about his worthiness to face Hector. After they depart with Ajax, Achilles and Patroclus discuss how the Greek leaders are deliberately using Ajax to provoke Achilles’ jealousy and draw him back into the fighting. Thersites remains behind to deliver a final mocking assessment of the situation, criticizing both Ajax’s foolishness and Achilles’ pride, and observing that all wars of this nature ultimately stem from lechery and jealousy.

Troilus and Cressida is set during the Trojan War and follows two interconnected storylines. The first centers on the tragic love affair between Troilus, a young Trojan prince, and Cressida, daughter of the Trojan priest Calchas who has defected to the Greeks. With the help of Cressida’s uncle Pandarus, the lovers are brought together and consummate their relationship, pledging eternal fidelity to one another.

Meanwhile, the Greek camp is plagued by dissension and a breakdown in military hierarchy. The war has dragged on for seven years with little progress. Agamemnon and Nestor struggle to maintain order while Achilles sulks in his tent, refusing to fight. The Greeks attempt to provoke Achilles by having Ajax challenge the Trojan hero Hector to single combat, but this strategy fails to rouse Achilles to action.

The two plots converge when the Greeks and Trojans arrange a prisoner exchange: Cressida is to be traded to the Greek camp in return for the Trojan commander Antenor. Despite their vows of love, Cressida is forced to leave Troy. Once in the Greek camp, she quickly becomes involved with the Greek warrior Diomedes. Troilus witnesses her apparent betrayal during a nighttime encounter and is devastated by her inconstancy.

The play concludes with renewed fighting between the two armies. Hector, despite ominous warnings, enters battle and is treacherously killed by Achilles and his Myrmidons. Troilus, consumed with grief and rage over both Cressida’s betrayal and Hector’s death, vows revenge against the Greeks. The play ends without resolution, as the war continues with both sides having suffered significant losses.