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HECTOR. Wert thou an oracle to tell me so, I’d not believe thee. Henceforth guard thee well; For I’ll not kill thee there, nor there, nor there; But, by the forge that stithied Mars his helm, I’ll kill thee everywhere, yea, o’er and o’er. You wisest Grecians, pardon me this brag. His insolence draws folly from my lips; But I’ll endeavour deeds to match these words, Or may I never—