Aga.

We go wrong, we go wrong.

Ajax.

No, yonder 'tis, there where we see the light.

Hect.

I trouble you.

Ajax.

No, not a whit.

Ulys.
Here comes himself to guide you.

Achil.
Welcome brave Hector, welcome princes all.

Aga.
So, now fair prince of Troy, I bid good-night.
Ajax commands the guard to tend on you.

Hect.
Thanks, and good-night to the Greek's general.

Men.

Good-night, my lord.

Hect.

Good-night, sweet lord Menelaus.

Ther.

Sweet draught—sweet quoth a—sweet sink, sweet sewer.

Achil.

Good-night, and welcome, both at once, to those that go or tarry.

Aga.

Good-night.

Achil.
Old Nestor tarries, you too Diomede
Keep Hector company an hour or two.

Dio.
I cannot, lord, I have important business,
The tide whereof is now; good-night, great Hector.

Hect.
Give me your hand.

Ulys.
Follow his torch, he goes to Calchas' tent:
I'll keep you company. [To Troilus.

Troi.
Sweet Sir, you honour me.

Hect.
And so good-night.

Achil.
Come, come, enter my tent. [Exeunt.

Ther.

That same Diomede's a false-hearted rogue, a most unjust knave: I will no more trust him when he leers than I will a serpent when he hisses: he will spend his mouth and promise, like Brabler the hound; but when he performs, astronomers foretel it, that it is prodigious, there will come some change: the sun borrows of the moon, when Diomede keeps his word. I will rather leave to see Hector, than not to dog him: they say, he keeps a Trojan drab, and uses the traitor Calchas his tent. I'll after— Nothing but lechery; all incontinent varlets.