Here comes Patroclus.

Nest.
No Achilles with him?

Ulys.
The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesie;
His legs are for necessity, not ^{k note}flexure.

Patr.
Achilles bids me say, he is much sorry,
If any thing more than your sport and pleasure,
Did move your greatness, and this noble state,
To call on him; he hopes it is no other,
But for your health and your digestion-sake;
An after-dinner's breath.

Aga.
Hear you, Patroclus;
We are too well acquainted with these answers:
But his evasion wing'd thus swift with scorn,
Cannot outflie our apprehensions.
Much attribute he hath, and much the reason
Why we ascribe it to him; yet his virtues
(Not virtuously on his own part beheld)
Do in our eyes begin to lose their gloss;
And like fair fruit in an unwholsom dish,
Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell him,
We come to speak with him, you shall not sin
If you do say we think him over-proud,
In self-assumption greater than in note

Of judgment: say, men worthier than himself
Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on,
Disguise the holy strength of their command,
And under-goe in an observing kind
His humorous predominance; yea, watch
^{l note}His course and times, his ebbs and flows; as if
The passage and whole carriage of this action
Rode on his tide. Go tell him this, and add,
That if he over-hold his price so much,
We'll none of him; but let him, like an engine
Not portable, lye under this report.
Bring action hither, this can't go to war:
A stirring dwarf we do allowance give,
Before a sleeping gyant; tell him so.

Patr.
I shall, and bring his answer presently. [Exit.

Aga.
In second voice we'll not be satisfied,
We come to speak with him. Ulysses, enter. [Exit Ulysses.

Ajax.
What is he more than another?

Aga.
No more than what he thinks he is.

Ajax.

Is he so much? do you not think he thinks himself a better man than I am?

Aga.

No question.

Ajax.

Will you subscribe his thought, and say he is?

Aga.

No, noble Ajax, you are as strong, as valiant, as wise, no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether more tractable.

Ajax.

Why should a man be proud? how doth pride grow? I know not what it is.

Aga.

Your mind is clearer, Ajax, and your virtues the fairer; he that is proud, eats up himself. Pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle, and whatever praises it self but in the deed, devours the deed in the praise.

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