HECTOR.
Aeneas is a-field;
And I do stand engag’d to many Greeks,
Even in the faith of valour, to appear
This morning to them.
PRIAM.
Ay, but thou shalt not go.
HECTOR.
I must not break my faith.
You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sir,
Let me not shame respect; but give me leave
To take that course by your consent and voice
Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam.
CASSANDRA.
O Priam, yield not to him!
ANDROMACHE.
Do not, dear father.
HECTOR.
Andromache, I am offended with you.
Upon the love you bear me, get you in.
[Exit Andromache.]
TROILUS.
This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl
Makes all these bodements.
CASSANDRA.
O, farewell, dear Hector!
Look how thou diest. Look how thy eye turns pale.
Look how thy wounds do bleed at many vents.
Hark how Troy roars; how Hecuba cries out;
How poor Andromache shrills her dolours forth;
Behold distraction, frenzy, and amazement,
Like witless antics, one another meet,
And all cry, ‘Hector! Hector’s dead! O Hector!’
TROILUS.
Away, away!