How now, young man! Mean’st thou to fight to-day?
_And_. Caſſandra, call my father to persuade.
Exit Caſſandra
_Hect_. No, faith, young Troylus; 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.
_Troy_. Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you
Which better fits a lion than a man.
_Hect_. What vice is that, good Troylus?
Chide me for it.
_Troy_. When many times the captive Grecian falls,
Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword,
You bid them rise and live.
_Hect_. O, ’tis fair play!
_Troy_. Fool’s play, by heaven, Hector.
_Hect_. How now! how now!
_Troy_. For th’ love of all the gods,
Let’s leave the hermit Pity with our mother;
And when we have our armours buckled on,
The venom’d vengeance ride upon our swords,
Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth!
_Hect_. Fie, savage, fie!
_Troy_. Hector, then ’tis wars.
_Hect_. Troylus, I would not have you fight to-day.
_Troy_. 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’ergalled 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.