,
And root, of all this mischief.

_Hect._ Your own suffrage
Condemns you there: you voted for her stay.

_Troil._ If one must stay, the other shall not go.

_Hect._ She shall not?

_Troil._ Once again I say, she shall not.

_Hect._ Our father has decreed it otherwise.

_Troil._ No matter.

_Hect._ How! no matter, Troilus?
A king, a father's will!

_Troil._ When 'tis unjust.

_Hect._ Come, she shall go.

_Troil._ She shall? then I am dared.

_Hect._ If nothing else will do.

_Troil._ Answer me first,
And then I'll answer that,--be sure I will,--
Whose hand sealed this exchange?

_Hect._ My father's first;
Then all the council's after.

_Troil._ Was yours there?

_Hect._ Mine was there too.

_Troil._ Then you're no more my friend:
And for your sake,--now mark me what I say,--
She shall not go.

_Hect._ Go to; you are a boy.

_Troil._ A boy! I'm glad I am not such a man,
Not such as thou, a traitor to thy brother;
Nay, more, thy friend: But friend's a sacred name,
Which none but brave and honest men should wear:
In thee 'tis vile; 'tis prostitute; 'tis air;
And thus, I puff it from me.

_Hect._ Well, young man,
Since I'm no friend, (and, oh, that e'er I was,
To one so far unworthy!) bring her out;
Or, by our father's soul, of which no part
Did e'er descend to thee, I'll force her hence.

_Troil._ I laugh at thee.

_Hect._ Thou dar'st not.

_Troil._ I dare more,
If urged beyond my temper: Prove my daring,
And see which of us has the larger share
Of our great father's soul.

_Hect._ No more!--thou know'st me.

_Troil._ I do; and know myself.

_Hect._ All this, ye gods!
And for the daughter of a fugitive,
A traitor to his country!

_Troil._ 'Tis too much.

_Hect._ By heaven, too little; for I think her common.

_Troil._ How, common!

_Hect._ Common as the tainted shambles,
Or as the dust we tread.

_Troil._ By heaven, as chaste as thy Andromache.
[HECTOR _lays his hand on_ TROILUS'S _arm,_
TROILUS _does the same to him._

_Hect._ What, namest thou them together!

_Troil._ No, I do not:
Fair Cressida is first; as chaste as she,
But much more fair.

_Hect._ O, patience, patience, heaven!
Thou tempt'st me strangely: should I kill thee now,
I know not if the gods can he offended,
Or think I slew a brother: But, begone!
Begone, or I shall shake thee into atoms;
Thou know'st I can.

_Troil._ I care not if you could