And.
When was my lord so much ungently temper'd,
To stop his ears against admonishment?
Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to-day.

Hec.
You train me to offend you; get you in:
By all the everlasting gods, I'll go.

And.
My dreams will, sure, prove ominous to-day.

Hec.
No more, I say. Enter Cassandra.

Cas.
Where is my brother Hector?

And.
Here, sister; arm'd, and bloody in intent:
Consort with me in loud and dear petition,
Pursue we him on knees; for I have dreamt
Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night
Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter.

Cas.
O, it is true.

Hec.
Ho, bid my trumpet sound!

Cas.
No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet brother.

Hec.
Begone, I say: the gods have heard me swear.

Cas.
The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows:
They are polluted off'rings, more abhorr'd
Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.

And.
O, be persuaded: Do not count it holy,
To hurt by being just: it is as lawful,

For us to count we give what's gain'd by thefts,
And rob in the behalf of charity.

Cas.
It is the purpose, that makes strong the vow;
But vows, to every purpose, must not hold:
Unarm, sweet Hector.

Hec.
Hold you still, I say;
Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate:
Life every man holds dear; but the brave man
Holds honour far more precious-dear than life‡ ^note.— Enter Troilus, arm'd.
How now, young man? mean'st thou to fight to-day?

And.
Cassandra, call my father to persuade. [Exit Cassandra.

Hec.
No, 'faith, young Troilus; doff thy harness, youth;
I am to-day i'th' vein of chivalry:
Let grow thy sinews 'till their knots be strong,
And tempt not yet the brushes of the war.
Unarm thee, go; and doubt thou not, brave boy,
I'll stand, to-day, for thee, and me, and Troy.

Tro.
Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you,
Which better fits a lion, than a man.

Hec.
What vice is that, good Troilus? chide me for it.

Tro.
When many times the captive Grecians fall,
Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword,
You bid them rise, and live.

Hec.
O, 'tis fair play.

Tro.
Fools' play, by heaven, Hector.

Hec.
How now? how now?

Tro.
For th' love of all the gods,
Let's leave the hermit pity with our mother;
And when we have our armours buckl'd on,
The venom'd vengeance ride upon our swords;
Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth.

Hec.
Fie, savage, fie!

Tro.
Hector, thus 'tis in wars.

Hec.
Troilus, I would not have you fight to-day.

Tro.
Who should withhold me?
Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars
Beck'ning with fiery truncheon my retire;
Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees,
Their eyes o'er-galled with recourse of tears;
Nor you, my brother, with your true sword drawn,
Oppos'd to hinder me, should stop my way,
But by my ruin. &blquo;Re-enter Cassandra, with Priam.

&blquo;Cas.
&blquo;Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him fast:
&blquo;He is thy crutch; now if thou lose thy stay,
&blquo;Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee,
&blquo;Fall all together.

&blquo;Pri.
&blquo;Come, Hector, come, go back:
&blquo;Thy wife hath dreamt; thy mother hath had visions;
&blquo;Cassandra doth foresee; and I myself
&blquo;Am like a prophet suddenly enrapt,
&blquo;To tell thee—that this day is ominous:
&blquo;Therefore, come back.

&blquo;Hec.
&blquo;Æneas is a-field;
&blquo;And I do stand engag'd to many Greeks,
&blquo;Even in the faith of valour, to appear
&blquo;This morning to them.

&blquo;Pri.
&blquo;Ay, but thou shalt not go.

&blquo;Hec.
&blquo;I must not break my faith.
&blquo;You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sir,
&blquo;Let me not shame respect; but give me leave
&blquo;To take that course by your consent and voice,
&blquo;Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam.

&blquo;Cas.
&blquo;O Priam, yield not to him.

&blquo;And.
&blquo;Do not, dear father.

&blquo;Hec.
&blquo;Andromache, I am offended with you:
&blquo;Upon the love you bear me, get you in. &blquo;[Exit Andromache.

&blquo;Tro.
&blquo;This, foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl
&blquo;Makes all these bodements.

&blquo;Cas.
&blquo;O, farewel, dear Hector.
&blquo;Look, how thou dy'st! look, how thy eye turns pale!
&blquo;Look, how thy wounds do bleed at many vents!
&blquo;Hark, how Troy roars; how Hecuba cries out;

&blquo;How poor Andromache shrills her dolours forth!
&blquo;Behold, distraction, frenzy, and amazement,
&blquo;Like witless anticks, one another meet,
&blquo;And all cry—Hector! Hector's dead! O Hector!

&blquo;Tro.
&blquo;Away, away!

&blquo;Cas.
&blquo;Farewel.—Yet, soft:—Hector, I take my leave:
&blquo;Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive. &blquo;[Exit Cassandra.

&blquo;Hec.
&blquo;You are amaz'd, my liege, at her exclaim:
&blquo;Go in, and cheer the town: we'll forth, and fight;
&blquo;Do deeds of praise, and tell you them at night.

&blquo;Pri.
&blquo;Farewel: The gods with safety stand about thee! &blquo;Alarums‡ ^note.

Tro.
They are at it, hark!—proud Diomed, believe,
I come to lose my arm, or win my sleeve. [Exeunt.

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