AEn. [Drawing too.]
By heaven, he comes on this, who strikes the first. 
You both are mad; is this like gallant men,
To fight at midnight; at the murderer’s hour;
When only guilt and rapine draw a sword? 
Let night enjoy her dues of soft repose;
But let the sun behold the brave man’s courage. 
And this I dare engage for Diomede,—­
For though I am,—­he shall not hide his head,
But meet you in the very face of danger.

Diom. [Putting up.]
Be’t so; and were it on some precipice,
High as Olympus, and a sea beneath,
Call when thou dar’st, just on the sharpest point
I’ll meet, and tumble with thee to destruction.

Troil. A gnawing conscience haunts not guilty men,
As I’ll haunt thee, to summon thee to this;
Nay, shouldst thou take the Stygian lake for refuge,
I’ll plunge in after, through the boiling flames,
To push thee hissing down the vast abyss.

Diom. Where shall we meet?

Troil. Before the tent of Calchas. 
Thither, through all your troops, I’ll fight my way;
And in the sight of perjured Cressida,
Give death to her through thee.

Diom. ’Tis largely promised;
But I disdain to answer with a boast. 
Be sure thou shalt be met.

Troil. And thou be found. [Exeunt TROILUS and AENEAS one way;
                               DIOMEDE the other.

Thers. Now the furies take AEneas, for letting them sleep upon their quarrel; who knows but rest may cool their brains, and make them rise maukish to mischief upon consideration?  May each of them dream he sees his cockatrice in t’other’s arms; and be stabbing one another in their sleep, to remember them of their business when they wake:  let them be punctual to the point of honour; and, if it were possible, let both be first at the place of execution; let neither of them have cogitation enough, to consider ’tis a whore they fight for; and let them value their lives at as little as they are worth:  and lastly, let no succeeding fools take warning by them; but, in imitation of them, when a strumpet is in question,
  Let them beneath their feet all reason trample,
  And think it great to perish by example. [Exit.

ACT V. SCENE I.

  HECTOR, Trojans, ANDROMACHE.

Hect. The blue mists rise from off the nether grounds,
And the sun mounts apace.  To arms, to arms! 
I am resolved to put to the utmost proof
The fate of Troy this day.

Andr. [Aside.] Oh wretched woman, oh!

Hect. Methought I heard you sigh, Andromache.

Andr. Did you, my lord?

Hect. Did you, my lord? you answer indirectly;
Just when I said, that I would put our fate
Upon the extremest proof, you fetched a groan;
And, as you checked yourself for what you did,
You stifled it and stopt.  Come, you are sad.