Achil. What?
Ther. Ajax goes up and down the field, asking for himself.
Achil. How so? 245
Ther. He must fight singly to-morrow with Hector,
and is so prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling
that he raves in saying nothing.
Achil. How can that be?
Ther. Why, a' stalks up and down like a peacock,—a[1802] 250
stride and a stand: ruminates like an hostess that hath no
arithmetic but her brain to set down her reckoning: bites his
lip with a politic regard, as who should say 'There were wit
in this head, an 'twould out:' and so there is; but it lies as[1803]
coldly in him as fire in a flint, which will not show without 255
knocking. The man's undone for ever; for if Hector break
not his neck i' the combat, he'll break't himself in vainglory.[1804]
He knows not me: I said 'Good morrow, Ajax;'
and he replies 'Thanks, Agamemnon.' What think you of[1805]
this man, that takes me for the general? He's grown a very 260
land-fish, languageless, a monster. A plague of opinion! a
man may wear it on both sides, like a leather jerkin.
Achil. Thou must be my ambassador to him, Thersites.[1806]
Ther. Who, I? why, he'll answer nobody; he professes
not answering: speaking is for beggars; he wears his tongue 265
in's arms. I will put on his presence: let Patroclus make
demands to me, you shall see the pageant of Ajax.[1807]
Achil. To him, Patroclus: tell him I humbly desire
the valiant Ajax to invite the most valorous Hector to[1808]
come unarmed to my tent, and to procure safe-conduct for 270
his person of the magnanimous and most illustrious six-or-seven-times-honoured[1809]
captain-general of the Grecian army,[1810]
Agamemnon, et cetera. Do this.[1811]
Patr. Jove bless great Ajax!
Ther. Hum! 275
Patr. I come from the worthy Achilles,—
Ther. Ha!
Patr. Who most humbly desires you to invite Hector
to his tent,—
Ther. Hum! 280
Patr. And to procure safe-conduct from Agamemnon.
Ther. Agamemnon?
Patr. Ay, my lord.
Ther. Ha!
Patr. What say you to 't? 285
Ther. God be wi' you, with all my heart.[1812]
Patr. Your answer, sir.
Ther. If to-morrow be a fair day, by eleven of the[1813]
clock it will go one way or other: howsoever, he shall pay
for me ere he has me. 290
Patr. Your answer, sir.
Ther. Fare you well, with all my heart.[1814]
Achil. Why, but he is not in this tune, is he?
Ther. No, but he's out o' tune thus. What music will[1815][1816]
be in him when Hector has knocked out his brains, I know[1816] 295
not; but, I am sure, none, unless the fiddler Apollo get
his sinews to make catlings on.
Achil. Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight.
Ther. Let me bear another to his horse; for that's the[1817]
more capable creature. 300
Achil. My mind is troubled like a fountain stirr'd,
And I myself see not the bottom of it.