Hector

Hector
Brother, she is not worth what she doth cost
The keeping.
Troilus
What’s aught but as ’tis valued?
Hector
But value dwells not in particular will;
It holds his estimate and dignity
As well wherein ’tis precious of itself
As in the prizer. ‘Tis mad idolatry
To make the service greater than the god;
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Cassandra
Cry, Trojans, cry! Lend me ten thousand eyes,
And I will fill them with prophetic tears.
Hector
Peace, sister, peace!
Cassandra
Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled elders,
Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry,
Add to my clamors. Let us pay betimes
A moiety of that mass of moan to come.
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Ajax
I am not warm yet. Let us fight again.
Diomedes
As Hector pleases.
Hector
Why, then, will I no more.—
Thou art, great lord, my father’s sister’s son,
A cousin-german to great Priam’s seed.
The obligation of our blood forbids
A gory emulation ‘twixt us twain.
Were thy commixtion Greek and Trojan so
That thou couldst say “This hand is Grecian all,
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Hector
Begone, I say. The gods have heard me swear.
Cassandra
The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows.
They are polluted off’rings more abhorred
Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.
Andromache, to Hector
O, be persuaded! Do not count it holy
To hurt by being just.
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Troilus
Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you
Which better fits a lion than a man.
Hector
What vice is that? Good Troilus, chide me for it.
Troilus
When many times the captive Grecian falls,
Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword,
You bid them rise and live.
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