Achilles
I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Trojan:
Be happy that my arms are out of use:
My rest and negligence befriends thee now,
But thou anon shalt hear of me again;
Till when, go seek thy fortune.
Hector
Fare thee well:
I would have been much more a fresher man,
Had I expected thee. How now, my brother!
Troilus
Ajax hath ta'en AEneas: shall it be?
No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven,
He shall not carry him: I'll be ta'en too,
Or bring him off: fate, hear me what I say!
I reck not though I end my life to-day.
Hector
Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou art a goodly mark:
No? wilt thou not? I like thy armour well;
I'll frush it and unlock the rivets all,
But I'll be master of it: wilt thou not,
beast, abide?
Why, then fly on, I'll hunt thee for thy hide.