Calch. If Diomede sink beneath the sword of Troilus
We lose not only a protector here,
But are debarred all future means of flight.
Cres. What then remains?
Calch. To interpose betimes
Betwixt their swords; or, if that cannot be,
To intercede for him, who shall be vanquished.
Fate leaves no middle course.[Exit Calchas.
Clashing within.
Cres. Ah me! I hear them,
And fear 'tis past prevention.
358 Enter Diomede, retiring before Troilus, and falling as he enters.
Troil. Now beg thy life, or die.
Diom. No; use thy fortune:
I loath the life, which thou canst give, or take.
Troil. Scorn'st thou my mercy, villain!—Take thy wish.—
Cres. Hold, hold your hand, my lord, and hear me speak.
[Troilus turns back; in which time Diomede rises, Trojans and Greeks enter, and rank themselves on both sides of their Captains.