Page 2906 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

HECTOR

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

TROILUS
When many times the captive Grecian falls, [40]
Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword,
You bid them rise and live.

HECTOR

O, ’tis fair play.

TROILUS

Fool’s play, by heaven, Hector.

HECTOR
How now, how now?

TROILUS
For th’love of all the gods,
Let’s leave the hermit Pity with our mothers; [45]
And when we have our armours buckled on,

The venomed vengeance ride upon our swords,
Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth!

HECTOR
Fie, savage, fie!

TROILUS
Hector, then ’tis wars.

HECTOR
Troilus, I would not have you fight today. [50]

TROILUS
Who should withhold me?

Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars
Beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire;