Page 2878 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

HECTOR

Why, then will I no more.
Thou art, great lord, my father’s sister’s son, [120]
A cousin-german to great Priam’s seed;

The obligation of our blood forbids
A gory emulation ’twixt us twain.
Were thy commixion Greek and Trojan so
That thou couldst say ‘This hand is Grecian all, [125]
And this is Trojan; the sinews of this leg

All Greek, and this all Troy; my mother’s blood
Runs on the dexter cheek, and this sinister
Bounds in my father’s’ − by Jove multipotent,

Thou shouldst not bear from me a Greekish member [130]
Wherein my sword had not impressure made
Of our rank feud; but the just gods gainsay
That any drop thou borrowed’st from thy mother,
My sacred aunt, should by my mortal sword

Be drained! Let me embrace thee, Ajax: [135]
By him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms;
Hector would have them fall upon him thus.

Cousin, all honour to thee!

AJAX

I thank thee, Hector.
Thou art too gentle and too free a man.
I came to kill thee, cousin, and bear hence [140]
A great addition earnèd in thy death.

HECTOR
Not Neoptolemus so mirable −

On whose bright crest Fame with her loud’st oyez
Cries ‘This is he’ − could promise to himself
A thought of added honour torn from Hector. [145]

AENEAS
There is expectance here from both the sides

What further you will do.