_Thers._ Now, would I were either invisible or invulnerable! These gods have a fine time on it; they can see and make mischief, and never feel it. [_Clattering of swords at both doors; he runs each way, and meets the noise._ A pox clatter you! I am compassed in. Now would I were that blockhead Ajax for a minute. Some sturdy Trojan will poach me up with a long pole! and then the rogues may kill one another at free cost, and have nobody left to laugh at them. Now destruction! now destruction! _Enter_ HECTOR _and_ TROILUS _driving in the Greeks._ _Hect._ to _Thers._ Speak what part thou fightest on! _Thers._ I fight not at all; I am for neither side. _Hect._ Thou art a Greek; art thou a match for Hector? Art thou of blood and honour? _Thers._ No, I am a rascal, a scurvy railing knave, a very filthy rogue. _Hect._ I do believe thee; live. _Thers._ God-a-mercy, that thou wilt believe me; but the devil break thy neck for frighting me. [_Aside._ _Troil._ (_returning._) What prisoner have you there? _Hect._ A gleaning of the war; a rogue, he says. _Troil._ Dispatch him, and away. [_Going to kill him._ _Thers._ Hold, hold!--what, is it no more but dispatch a man and away! I am in no such haste: I will not die for Greece; I hate Greece, and by my good will would never have been born there; I was mistaken into that country, and betrayed by my parents to be born there. And besides, I have a mortal enemy among the Grecians, one Diomede, a damned villain, and cannot die with a safe conscience till I have first murdered him. _Troil._ Shew me that Diomede, and thou shalt live. _Thers._ Come along with me, and I will conduct thee to Calchas's tent, where I believe he is now, making war with the priest's daughter. _Hect._ Here we must part, our destinies divide us; Brother and friend, farewell. _Troil._ When shall we meet? _Hect._ When the gods please; if not, we once must part. Look; on yon hill their squandered troops unite. _Troil._ If I mistake not, 'tis their last reserve: The storm's blown o'er, and those but after-drops. _Hect._ I wish our men be not too far engaged; For few we are and spent, as having born The burthen of the day: But, hap what can, They shall be charged; Achilles must be there, And him I seek, or death. Divide our troops, and take the fresher half. _Troil._ O brother! _Hect._ No dispute of ceremony: These are enow for me, in faith enow. Their bodies shall not flag while I can lead; Nor wearied limbs confess mortality, Before those ants, that blacken all yon hill, Are crept into the earth. Farewell. [_Exit_ HECT. _Troil._ Farewell.--Come, Greek. _Thers._ Now these rival rogues will clapperclaw one another, and I shall have the sport of it. [_Exit_ TROIL. _with_ THERS. _Enter_ ACHILLES _and Myrmidons._ _Achill._ Which way went Hector?