Soft! here comes sleeve, and t’other.
TROILUS.
Fly not; for shouldst thou take the river Styx, I would swim after.
DIOMEDES.
Thou dost miscall retire.
I do not fly; but advantageous care
Withdrew me from the odds of multitude.
Have at thee!
THERSITES.
Hold thy whore, Grecian; now for thy whore,
Trojan! now the sleeve, now the sleeve!
[Exeunt Troilus and Diomedes fighting.]
Enter Hector.
HECTOR.
What art thou, Greek? Art thou for Hector’s match?
Art thou of blood and honour?
THERSITES.
No, no I am a rascal; a scurvy railing knave; a very filthy rogue.
HECTOR.
I do believe thee. Live.
[Exit.]