Pand. Well, I say Troilus is Troilus.
Cres. That's what I say; for I am sure he is not Hector.
Pand. No, nor Hector is not Troilus: make your best of that, niece!
277 Cres. 'Tis true, for each of them is himself.
Pand. Himself! alas, poor Troilus! I would he were himself: well, the gods are all-sufficient, and time must mend or end. I would he were himself, and would I were a lady for his sake. I would not answer for my maidenhead.—No, Hector is not a better man than Troilus.
Cres. Excuse me.
Pand. Pardon me; Troilus is in the bud, 'tis early day with him; you shall tell me another tale when Troilus is come to bearing; and yet he will not bear neither, in some sense. No, Hector shall never have his virtues.
Cres. No matter.
Pand. Nor his beauty, nor his fashion, nor his wit; he shall have nothing of him.
Cres. They would not become him, his own are better.