SCENE 3. Troy. Before PRIAM'S palace
[Enter HECTOR and ANDROMACHE.]
When was my lord so much ungently temper'd
To stop his ears against admonishment?
Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to-day.
You train me to offend you; get you in.
By all the everlasting gods, I'll go.
My dreams will, sure, prove ominous to the day.
No more, I say.
Where is my brother Hector?
Here, sister, arm'd, and bloody in intent.
Consort with me in loud and dear petition,
Pursue we him on knees; for I have dreamt
Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night
Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter.
O, 'tis true!
Ho! bid my trumpet sound.
No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet brother!
Be gone, I say. The gods have heard me swear.
The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows;
They are polluted off'rings, more abhorr'd
Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.
O, be persuaded! Do not count it holy
To hurt by being just. It is as lawful,
For we would give much, to use violent thefts
And rob in the behalf of charity.
It is the purpose that makes strong the vow;
But vows to every purpose must not hold.
Unarm, sweet Hector.
Hold you still, I say.
Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate.
Life every man holds dear; but the dear man
Holds honour far more precious dear than life.
How now, young man! Mean'st thou to fight to-day?