_Achil._ Thou shalt be my ambassador to him, Thersites.
_Thers._ No, I'll put on his person; let Patroclus make his demands to me, and you shall see the pageant of Ajax.
_Achil._ To him, Patroclus; tell him I humbly desire the valiant Ajax to invite the noble Hector to my tent; and to procure safe conduct for him from our captain general Agamemnon.
_Patro._ Who most humbly desires you to invite Hector to his tent.
_Patro._ And to procure him safe conduct from Agamemnon.
_Thers._ If to-morrow be a fair day, by eleven o'clock it will go one way or the other; however, he shall buy me dearly. Fare you well, with all my heart.
_Achil._ Why, but he is not in this tune, is he?
_Thers._ No; but he's thus out of tune. What music will be in him when Hector has knocked out his brains, I know not, nor I care not; but if emptiness makes noise, his head will make melody.
_Achil._ My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirred; And I myself see not the bottom on't.
_Thers._ Would the fountain of his mind were clear, that he might see an ass in it! I had rather be a tick in a sheep, than such a valiant ignorance. [_Aside._
_Enter_ AGAMEMNON, AJAX, DIOMEDES, _and_ MENELAUS.
_Achil._ Patroclus, I'll speak with nobody;--come in after me, Thersites. [_Exeunt_ ACHILLES _and_ THERSITES.
_Patro._ Within, but ill disposed, my lord.
_Men._ We saw him at the opening of his tent.
_Again._ Let it be known to him, that we are here.
_Patro._ I shall say so to him. [_Exit_ PATROC.
_Ajax._ Yes, lion-sick, sick of a proud heart: you may call it melancholy, if you will humour him; but, on my honour, it is no more than pride; and why should he be proud?
_Men._ Here comes Patroclus; but no Achilles with him.
_Patro._ Achilles bids me tell you, he is sorry If any thing more than your sport and pleasure Did move you to this visit: He's not well, And begs you would excuse him, as unfit For present business.
_Agam._ How! how's this, Patroclus? We are too well acquainted with these answers. Though he has much desert, yet all his virtues Do in our eyes begin to lose their gloss. We came to speak with him; you shall not err, If you return, we think him over-proud, And under-honest. Tell him this; and add, That if he overhold his price so much, We'll none of him; but let him, like an engine Not portable, lie lag of all the camp. A stirring dwarf is of more use to us, Than is a sleeping giant: tell him so.