Enter Hector.
HECTOR.
Yea, Troilus? O, well fought, my youngest brother!
Enter Achilles.
ACHILLES.
Now do I see thee. Ha! have at thee, Hector!
HECTOR.
Pause, if thou wilt.
ACHILLES.
I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Trojan.
Be happy that my arms are out of use;
My rest and negligence befriend thee now,
But thou anon shalt hear of me again;
Till when, go seek thy fortune.
[Exit.]
HECTOR.
Fare thee well.
I would have been much more a fresher man,
Had I expected thee.
Re-enter Troilus.
How now, my brother!