Troilus and Cressida

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Original text
Act V, Scene I
Enter Achilles, and Patroclus.

Achil.
Ile heat his blood with Greekish wine to night,
Which with my Cemitar Ile coole to morrow:
Patroclus, / let vs Feast him to the hight.

Pat.
Heere comes Thersites.
Enter Thersites.

Achil.
How now, thou core of Enuy?
Thou crusty batch of Nature, what's the newes?

Ther.
Why thou picture of what thou seem'st,
& Idoll of Ideot-worshippers, here's a Letter for thee.

Achil.
From whence, Fragment?

Ther.
Why thou full dish of Foole, from Troy.


Pat.
Who keepes the Tent now?

Ther.
The Surgeons box, or the Patients wound.

Patr.
Well said aduersity, and what need these
tricks?

Ther.
Prythee be silent boy, I profit not by thy
talke, thou art thought to be Achilles male Varlot.

Patro.
Male Varlot you Rogue? What's that?

Ther.
Why his masculine Whore. Now the rotten
diseases of the South, guts-griping Ruptures, Catarres,
Loades a grauell i'th'backe, Lethargies, cold Palsies, and
the like, take and take againe, such prepostrous
discoueries. Q addition 'rawe eies, durtrottē liuers, whissing lungs, bladders full of impostume. Sciaticaes lime-kills ith' palme, incurable bone-ach, and the riueled fee simple of the tetter take'

Pat.
Why thou damnable box of enuy thou,
what mean'st thou to curse thus?

Ther.
Do I curse thee?

Patr.
Why no, you ruinous But, you whorson
indistinguishable Curre.

Ther.
No? why art thou then exasperate, thou idle,
immateriall skiene of Sleyd silke; thou greene Sarcenet
flap for a sore eye, thou tassell of a Prodigals purse
thou: Ah how the poore world is pestred with such
water-flies, diminutiues of Nature.

Pat.
Out gall.

Ther.
Finch Egge.

Ach.
My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite
From my great purpose in to morrowes battell:
Heere is a Letter from Queene Hecuba,
A token from her daughter, my faire Loue,
Both taxing me, and gaging me to keepe
An Oath that I haue sworne. I will not breake it,
Fall Greekes, faile Fame, Honor or go, or stay,
My maior vow lyes heere; this Ile obay:
Come, come Thersites, helpe to trim my Tent,
This night in banquetting must all be spent.
Away Patroclus.
Exit.

Ther.
With too much bloud, and too little Brain,
these two may run mad: but if with too much braine, and
too little blood, they do, Ile be a curer of madmen.
Heere's Agamemnon, an honest fellow enough, and
one that loues Quailes, but he has not so much Braine as
eare-wax; and the goodly transformation of Iupiter
there his Brother, the Bull, the primatiue Statue, and
oblique memoriall of Cuckolds, a thrifty shooing-horne
in a chaine, hanging at his Brothers legge, to what forme
but that he is, shold wit larded with malice, and malice
forced with wit, turne him too: to an Asse were nothing;
hee is both Asse and Oxe; to an Oxe were nothing, hee is both
Oxe and Asse: to be a Dogge, a Mule, a Cat, a Fitchew, a Toade,
a Lizard, an Owle, a Puttocke, or a Herring without a Roe, I
would not care: but to be Menelaus, I would conspire
against Destiny. Aske me not what I would be, if I were
not Thersites: for I care not to bee the lowse of a Lazar, so
I were not Menelaus. Hoy-day, spirits and fires.
Enter Hector, Aiax, Agamemnon, Vlysses,
Nestor, Diomed, with Lights.

Aga.
We go wrong, we go wrong.

Aiax.
No yonder 'tis,
there where we see the light.

Hect.
I trouble you.

Aiax.
No, not a whit.
Enter Achilles.

Vlys.
Heere comes himselfe to guide you?

Achil.
Welcome braue Hector, welcome Princes all.

Agam.
So now faire Prince of Troy, I bid goodnight,
Aiax commands the guard to tend on you.

Hect.
Thanks, and goodnight to the Greeks general.

Men.
Goodnight my Lord.

Hect.
Goodnight sweet Lord Menelaus.

Ther.
Sweet draught: sweet quoth-a? sweet sinke,
sweet sure.

Achil.
Goodnight and welcom, both at once, to those
that go, or tarry.

Aga.
Goodnight.

Achil.
Old Nestor tarries, and you too Diomed,
Keepe Hector company an houre, or two.

Dio.
I cannot Lord, I haue important businesse,
The tide whereof is now, goodnight great Hector.

Hect.
Giue me your hand.

Ulys.
Follow his Torch, he goes
to Chalcas Tent, / Ile keepe you company.

Troy.
Sweet sir, you honour me.

Hect.
And so good night.

Achil.
Come, come, enter my Tent.
Exeunt.

Ther.
That same Diomed's a false-hearted Rogue,
a most vniust Knaue; I will no more trust him when hee
leeres, then I will a Serpent when he hisses: he will
spend his mouth & promise, like Brabler the
Hound; but when he performes, Astronomers foretell it,
that it is prodigious, there will come some change: the
Sunne borrowes of the Moone when Diomed keepes his
word. I will rather leaue to see Hector, then not to dogge
him: they say, he keepes a Troyan Drab, and vses the
Traitour Chalcas his Tent. Ile after---Nothing but
Letcherie? All incontinent Varlets.
Exeunt
Original text
Act V, Scene II
Enter Diomed.

Dio.
What are you vp here ho? speake?

Chal.
Who cals?

Dio.
Diomed, Chalcas (I thinke) wher's you
Daughter?

Chal.
She comes to you.
Enter Troylus and Vlisses.

Vlis.
Stand where the Torch may not discouer vs.
Enter Cressid.

Troy.
Cressid comes forth to him.

Dio.
How now my charge?

Cres.
Now my sweet gardian: harke a word with you.

Troy.
Yea, so familiar?

Vlis.
She will sing any man at first sight.

Ther.
And any man may finde her, if he can take her
life: she's noted.

Dio.
Will you remember?

Cal.
Remember? yes.

Dio.
Nay, but doe then;
and let your minde be coupled with your words.

Troy.
What should she remember?

Vlis.
List?

Cres.
Sweete hony Greek, tempt me no more to folly.

Ther.
Roguery.

Dio.
Nay then.

Cres.
Ile tell you what.

Dio.
Fo, fo, eome tell a pin, you are a forsworne.-----

Cres.
In faith I cannot: what would you haue me do?

Ther.
A iugling tricke, to be secretly open.

Dio.
What did you sweare you would bestow on me?

Cres.
I prethee do not hold me to mine oath,
Bid me doe not any thing but that sweete Greeke.

Dio.
Good night.

Troy.
Hold, patience.

Ulis.
How now Troian?

Cres.
Diomed.

Dio.
No, no, good night: Ile be your foole no more.

Troy.
Thy better must.

Cres.
Harke one word in your eare.

Troy.
O plague and madnesse!

Vlis.
You are moued Prince, let vs depart I pray you,
Lest your displeasure should enlarge it selfe
To wrathfull tearmes: this place is dangerous;
The time right deadly: I beseech you goe.

Troy.
Behold, I pray you.

Vlis.
Nay, good my Lord goe off:
You flow to great distraction: come my Lord?

Troy.
I pray thee stay?

Vlis.
You haue not patience, come.

Troy.
I pray you stay? by hell and hell torments,
I will not speake a word.

Dio.
And so good night.

Cres.
Nay, but you part in anger.

Troy.
Doth that grieue thee?
O withered truth!

Ulis.
Why, how now Lord?

Troy.
By Ioue
I will be patient.

Cres.
Gardian? why Greeke?

Dio.
Fo, fo, adew, you palter.

Cres.
In faith I doe not: come hither once againe.

Vlis.
You shake my Lord at something; will you goe?
you will breake out.

Troy.
She stroakes his cheeke.

Vlis.
Come, come.

Troy.
Nay stay, by Ioue I will not speake a word.
There is betweene my will, and all offences,
A guard of patience; stay a little while.

Ther.
How the diuell Luxury with his fat rumpe and
potato finger, tickles these together: frye lechery, frye.

Dio.
But will you then?

Cres.
In faith I will lo; neuer trust me else.

Dio.
Giue me some token for the surety of it.

Cres.
Ile fetch you one.
Exit.

Vlis.
You haue sworne patience.

Troy.
Feare me not sweete Lord.
I will not be my selfe, nor haue cognition
Of what I feele: I am all patience.
Enter Cressid.

Ther.
Now the pledge, now, now, now.

Cres.
Here Diomed, keepe this Sleeue.


Troy.
O beautie! where is thy Faith?

Vlis.
My Lord.

Troy.
I will be patient, outwardly I will.

Cres.
You looke vpon that Sleeue? behold it well:
He lou'd me: O false wench: giue't me againe.

Dio.
Whose was't?

Cres.
It is no matter now I haue't againe.
I will not meete with you to morrow night:
I prythee Diomed visite me no more.

Ther.
Now she sharpens: well said Whetstone.

Dio.
I shall haue it.

Cres.
What, this?

Dio.
I that.

Cres.
O all you gods! O prettie, prettie pledge;
Thy Maister now lies thinking in his bed
Of thee and me, and sighes, and takes my Gloue,
And giues memoriall daintie kisses to it;
As I kisse thee.
Dio. Nay, doe not snatch it from me.
Cres. He that takes that, rakes my heart withall.

Dio.
I had your heart before, this followes it.

Troy.
I did sweare patience.

Cres.
You shall not haue it Diomed; faith you shall not:
Ile giue you something else.

Dio.
I will haue this: whose was it?

Cres.
It is no matter.

Dio.
Come tell me whose it was?

Cres.
'Twas one that lou'd me better then you will.
But now you haue it, take it.

Dio.
Whose was it?

Cres.
By all Dianas waiting women yond:
And by her selfe, I will not tell you whose.

Dio.
To morrow will I weare it on my Helme,
And grieue his spirit that dares not challenge it.

Troy.
Wert thou the diuell, and wor'st it on thy horne,
It should be challeng'd.

Cres.
Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis past; and yet it is not:
I will not keepe my word.

Dio.
Why then farewell,
Thou neuer shalt mocke Diomed againe.

Cres.
You shall not goe: one cannot speake a word,
But it strait starts you.

Dio.
I doe not like this fooling.

Ther.
Nor I by Pluto: but that that likes not me,
pleases me best.

Dio.
What shall I come? the houre.

Cres.
I, come: O Ioue! doe, come: I shall be plagu'd.

Dio.
Farewell till then.

Cres.
Good night: I prythee come:
Exit.
Troylus farewell; one eye yet lookes on thee;
But with my heart, the other eye, doth see.
Ah poore our sexe; this fault in vs I finde:
The errour of our eye, directs our minde.
What errour leads, must erre: O then conclude,
Mindes swai'd by eyes, are full of turpitude.
Exit.

Ther.
A proofe of strength she could not publish more;
Vnlesse she say, my minde is now turn'd whore.

Ulis.
Al's done my Lord.

Troy.
It is.

Vlis.
Why stay we then?

Troy.
To make a recordation to my soule
Of euery syllable that here was spoke:
But if I tell how these two did coact;
Shall I not lye, in publishing a truth?
Sith yet there is a credence in my heart:
An esperance so obstinately strong,
That doth inuert that test of eyes and eares;
As if those organs had deceptious functions,
Created onely to calumniate.
Was Cressed here?

Vlis.
I cannot coniure Troian.

Troy.
She was not sure.

Vlis.
Most sure she was.

Troy.
Why my negation hath no taste of madnesse?

Vlis.
Nor mine my Lord: Cressid was here but now.

Troy.
Let it not be beleeu'd for womanhood:
Thinke we had mothers; doe not giue aduantage
To stubborne Criticks, apt without a theame
For deprauation, to square the generall sex
By Cressids rule. Rather thinke this not Cressid.

Vlis.
What hath she done Prince, that can soyle our mothers?

Troy.
Nothing at all, vnlesse that this were she.

Ther.
Will he swagger himselfe out on's owne eyes?

Troy.
This she? no, this is Diomids Cressida:
If beautie haue a soule, this is not she:
If soules guide vowes; if vowes are sanctimonie;
If sanctimonie be the gods delight:
If there be rule in vnitie it selfe,
This is not she: O madnesse of discourse!
That cause sets vp, with, and against thy selfe
By foule authoritie: where reason can reuolt
Without perdition, and losse assume all reason,
Without reuolt. This is, and is not Cressid:
Within my soule, there doth conduce a fight
Of this strange nature, that a thing inseperate,
Diuides more wider then the skie and earth:
And yet the spacious bredth of this diuision,
Admits no Orifex for a point as subtle,
As Ariachnes broken woofe to enter:
Instance, O instance! strong as Plutoes gates:
Cressid is mine, tied with the bonds of heauen;
Instance, O instance, strong as heauen it selfe:
The bonds of heauen are slipt, dissolu'd, and loos'd,
And with another knot fiue finger tied,
The fractions of her faith, orts of her loue:
The fragments, scraps, the bits, and greazie reliques,
Of her ore-eaten faith, are bound to Diomed

Vlis.
May worthy Troylus be halfe attached
With that which here his passion doth expresse?

Troy.
I Greeke: and that shall be divulged well
In Characters, as red as Mars his heart
Inflam'd with Uenus: neuer did yong man fancy
With so eternall, and so fixt a soule.
Harke Greek: as much I doe Cressida loue;
So much by weight, hate I her Diomed,
That Sleeue is mine, that heele beare in his Helme:
Were it a Caske compos'd by Vulcans skill,
My Sword should bite it: Not the dreadfull spout,
Which Shipmen doe the Hurricano call,
Constring'd in masse by the almighty Fenne,
Shall dizzie with more clamour Neptunes eare
In his discent; then shall my prompted sword,
Falling on Diomed.

Ther.
Heele tickle it for his concupie.

Troy.
O Cressid! O false Cressid! false, false, false:
Let all vntruths stand by thy stained name,
And theyle seeme glorious.

Vlis.
O containe your selfe:
Your passion drawes eares hither.
Enter Aneas.

Ane.
I haue beene seeking you this houre my Lord:
Hector by this is arming him in Troy.
Aiax your Guard, staies to conduct you home.

Troy.
Haue with you Prince: my curteous Lord adew:
Farewell reuolted faire: and Diomed,
Stand fast, and weare a Castle on thy head.

Vli.
Ile bring you to the Gates.

Troy.
Accept distracted thankes.
Exeunt Troylus, Aneas, and Ulisses.

Ther.
Would I could meete that roague Diomed, I
would croke like a Rauen: I would bode, I would bode:
Patroclus will giue me any thing for the intelligence of
this whore: the Parrot will not doe more for an Almond,
then he for a commodious drab: Lechery, lechery, still
warres and lechery, nothing else holds fashion. A burning
diuell take them.
Original text
Act V, Scene III
Enter Hecter and Andromache.

And.
When was my Lord so much vngently temper'd,
To stop his eares against admonishment?
Vnarme, vnarme, and doe not fight to day.

Hect.
You traine me to offend you: get you gone.
By the euerlasting gods, Ile goe.

And.
My dreames will sure proue ominous to the day.

Hect.
No more I say.
Enter Cassandra.

Cassa.
Where is my brother Hector?

And.
Here sister, arm'd, and bloudy in intent:
Consort with me in loud and deere petition:
Pursue we him on knees: for I haue dreampt
Of bloudy turbulence; and this whole night
Hath nothing beene but shapes, and formes of slaughter.

Cass.
O, 'tis true.

Hect.
Ho? bid my Trumpet sound.

Cass.
No notes of sallie, for the heauens, sweet brother.

Hect.
Begon I say: the gods haue heard me sweare.

Cass.
The gods are deafe to hot and peeuish vowes;
They are polluted offrings, more abhord
Then spotted Liuers in the sacrifice.

And.
O be perswaded, doe not count it holy,
To hurt by being iust; it is as lawfull:
For we would count giue much to as violent thefts,
And rob in the behalfe of charitie.

Cass.
It is the purpose that makes strong the vowe;
But vowes to euery purpose must not hold:
Vnatme sweete Hector.

Hect.
Hold you still I say;
Mine honour keepes the weather of my fate:
Life euery man holds deere, but the deere man
Holds honor farre more precious, deere, then life.
Enter Troylus.
How now yong man? mean'st thou to fight to day?

And.
Cassandra, call my father to perswade.
Exit Cassandra.

Hect.
No faith yong Troylus; doffe thy harnesse youth:
I am to day ith'vaine of Chiualrie:
Let grow thy Sinews till their knots be strong;
And tempt not yet the brushes of the warre.
Vnarme thee, goe; and doubt thou not braue boy,
Ile stand today, for thee, and me, and Troy.

Troy.
Brother, you haue a vice of mercy in you;
Which better fits a Lyon, then a man.

Hect.
What vice is that? good Troylus chide me for it.

Troy.
When many times the captiue Grecian fals,
Euen in the fanne and winde of your faire Sword:
You bid them rise, and liue.

Hect.
O 'tis faire play.

Troy.
Fooles play, by heauen Hector.

Hect.
How now? how now?

Troy.
For th'loue of all the gods
Let's leaue the Hermit Pitty with our Mothers;
And when we haue our Armors buckled on,
The venom'd vengeance ride vpon our swords,
Spur them to ruthfull worke, reine them from ruth.

Hect.
Fie sauage, fie.

Troy.
Hector, then 'tis warres.

Hect.
Troylus, I would not haue you fight to day.

Troy.
Who should with-hold me?
Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars,
Beckning with fierie trunchion my retire;
Not Priamus, and Hecuba on knees;
Their eyes ore-galled with recourse of teares;
Nor you my brother, with your true sword drawne
Oppos'd to hinder me, should stop my way:
But by my ruine.
Enter Priam and Cassandra.

Cass.
Lay hold vpon him Priam, hold him fast:
He is thy crutch; now if thou loose thy stay,
Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee,
Fall all together.

Priam.
Come Hector, come, goe backe:
Thy wife hath dreampt: thy mother hath had visions;
Cassandra doth foresee; and I my selfe,
Am like a Prophet suddenly enrapt,
to tell thee that this day is ominous:
Therefore come backe.

Hect.
Aneas is a field,
And I do stand engag'd to many Greekes,
Euen in the faith of valour, to appeare
This morning to them.

Priam.
I, but thou shalt not goe,

Hect.
I must not breake my faith:
You know me dutifull, therefore deare sir,
Let me not shame respect; but giue me leaue
To take that course by your consent and voice,
Which you doe here forbid me, Royall Priam.

Cass.
O Priam, yeelde not to him.

And.
Doe not deere father.

Hect.
Andromache I am offended with you:
Vpon the loue you beare me, get you in.
Exit Andromache.

Troy.
This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girle,
Makes all these bodements.

Cass.
O farewell, deere Hector:
Looke how thou diest; looke how thy eye turnes pale:
Looke how thy wounds doth bleede at many vents:
Harke how Troy roares; how Hecuba cries out;
How poore Andromache shrils her dolour forth;
Behold distraction, frenzie, and amazement,
Like witlesse Antickes one another meete,
And all cry Hector, Hectors dead: O Hector!

Troy.
Away, away.

Cas.
Farewell: yes, soft: Hector I take my leaue;
Thou do'st thy selfe, and all our Troy deceiue.
Exit.

Hect.
You are amaz'd, my Liege, at her exclaime:
Goe in and cheere the Towne, weele forth and fight:
Doe deedes of praise, and tell you them at night.

Priam.
Farewell: the gods with safetie stand about thee.
Alarum.

Troy.
They are at it, harke: proud Diomed, beleeue
I come to loose my arme, or winne my sleeue.
Enter Pandar.

Pand.
Doe you heare my Lord? do you heare?

Troy.
What now?

Pand.
Here's a Letter come from yond poore girle.

Troy.
Let me reade.

Pand.
A whorson tisicke, a whorson rascally tisicke,
so troubles me; and the foolish fortune of this girle, and
what one thing, what another, that I shall leaue you one
o'th's dayes: and I haue a rheume in mine eyes too; and
such an ache in my bones; that vnlesse a man were curst,
I cannot tell what to thinke on't. What sayes shee there?

Troy.
Words, words, meere words, no matter from the heart;
Th'effect doth operate another way.
Goe winde to winde, there turne and change together:
My loue with words and errors still she feedes;
But edifies another with her deedes. Pand. Why, but heare you? Troy. Hence brother lackie; ignomie and shame / Pursue thy life, and liue aye with thy name.
ALarum. Exeunt.
Original text
Act V, Scene IV
Enter Thersites in excursion.

Ther.
Now they are clapper-clawing one another,
Ile goe looke on: that dissembling abhominable varlet
Diomede, has got that same scuruie, doting, foolish yong
knaues Sleeue of Troy, there in his Helme: I would faine
see them meet; that, that same yong Troian asse, that
loues the whore there, might send that Greekish
whore-maisterly villaine, with the Sleeue, backe to the
dissembling luxurious drabbe, of a sleeuelesse errant.
O'th'tother side, the pollicie of those craftie swearing
rascals; that stole old Mouse-eaten dry cheese, Nestor:
and that same dog-foxe Vlisses is not prou'd
worth a Black-berry. They set me vp in pollicy, that
mungrill curre Aiax, against that dogge of as bad a kinde,
Achilles. And now is the curre Aiax prouder then the curre
Achilles, and will not arme to day. Whereupon, the Grecians
began to proclaime barbarisme; and pollicie growes
into an ill opinion.
Enter Diomed and Troylus.
Soft, here comes Sleeue, and th'other.

Troy.
Flye not: for should'st thou take the Riuer Stix,
I would swim after.

Diom.
Thou do'st miscall retire:
I doe not flye; but aduantagious care
Withdrew me from the oddes of multitude:
Haue at thee?

Ther.
Hold thy whore Grecian: now for thy
whore Troian: Now the Sleeue, now the Sleeue.
Euter Hector.

Hect.
What art thou Greek? art thou for Hectors match?
Art thou of bloud, and honour?

Ther.
No, no: I am a rascall: a scuruie railing knaue:
a very filthy roague.

Hect.
I doe beleeue thee, liue.

Ther.
God a mercy, that thou wilt beleeue me; but
a plague breake thy necke---for frighting me: what's
become of the wenching rogues? I thinke they haue
swallowed one another. I would laugh at that miracle----
yet in a sort, lecherie eates it selfe: Ile seeke them.
Exit.
Original text
Act V, Scene V
Enter Diomed and Seruants.

Dio.
Goe, goe, my seruant, take thou Troylus Horse;
Present the faire Steede to my Lady Cressid:
Fellow, commend my seruice to her beauty;
Tell her, I haue chastis'd the amorous Troyan.
And am her Knight by proofe.

Ser.
I goe my Lord.
Enter Agamemnon.

Aga.
Renew, renew, the fierce Polidamus
Hath beate downe Menon: bastard Margarelon
Hath Doreus prisoner.
And stands Calossus-wise wauing his beame,
Vpon the pashed courses of the Kings:
Epistropus and Cedus, Polixines is slaine;
Amphimacus, and Thous deadly hurt;
Patroclus tane or slaine, and Palamedes
Sore hurt and bruised; the dreadfull Sagittary
Appauls our numbers, haste we Diomed
To re-enforcement, or we perish all.
Enter Nestor.

Nest.
Coe beare Patroclus body to Achilles,
And bid the snaile-pac'd Aiax arme for shame;
There is a thousand Hectors in the field:
Now here he fights on Galathe his Horse,
And there lacks worke: anon he's there a foote,
And there they flye or dye, like scaled sculs,
Before the belching Whale; then is he yonder,
And there the straying Greekes, ripe for his edge,
Fall downe before him, like the mowers swath;
Here, there, and euery where, he leaues and takes;
Dexteritie so obaying appetite,
That what he will, he does, and does so much,
That proofe is call'd impossibility.
Enter Vlisses.

Ulis.
Oh, courage, courage Princes: great Achilles
Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance;
Patroclus wounds haue rouz'd his drowzie bloud,
Together with his mangled Myrmidons,
That noselesse, handlesse, hackt and chipt, come to him;
Crying on Hector. Aiax hath lost a friend,
And foames at mouth, and he is arm'd, and at it:
Roaring for Troylus; who hath done to day.
Mad and fantasticke execution;
Engaging and redeeming of himselfe,
With such a carelesse force, and forcelesse care,
As if that luck in very spight of cunning,
bad him win all.
Enter Aiax.

Aia.
Troylus, thou coward Troylus.
Exit.

Dio.
I, there, there.

Nest.
So, so, we draw together.
Exit.
Enter Achilles.

Achil.
Where is this Hector?
Come, come, thou boy-queller, shew thy face:
Know what it is to meete Achilles angry.
Hector, wher's Hector? I will none but Hector.
Exit.
Original text
Act V, Scene VI
Enter Aiax.

Aia.
Troylus, thou coward Troylus, shew thy head.
Enter Diomed.

Diom.
Troylus, I say, wher's Troylus?

Aia.
What would'st thou?

Diom.
I would correct him.

Aia.
Were I the Generall, / Thou should'st haue my office,
Ere that correction: Troylus I say, what Troylus?
Enter Troylus.

Troy.
Oh traitour Diomed! / Turne thy false face thou traytor,
And pay thy life thou owest me for my horse.

Dio.
Ha, art thou there?

Aia.
Ile fight with him alone, stand Diomed.

Dio.
He is my prize, I will not looke vpon.

Troy.
Come both you coging Greekes, haue at you both.
Exit Troylus.
Enter Hector.

Hect.
Yea Troylus? O well fought my yongest Brother.
Euter Achilles.

Achil.
Now doe I see thee; haue at thee Hector.

Hect.
Pause if thou wilt.

Achil.
I doe disdaine thy curtesie, proud Troian;
Be happy that my armes are out of vse:
My rest and negligence befriends thee now,
But thou anon shalt heare of me againe:
Till when, goe seeke thy fortune.
Exit.

Hect.
Fare thee well:
I would haue beene much more a fresher man,
Had I expected thee:
Enter Troylus.
how now my Brother?

Troy.
Aiax hath tane Aneas; shall it be?
No, by the flame of yonder glorious heauen,
He shall not carry him: Ile be tane too,
Or bring him off: Fate heare me what I say;
I wreake not, though thou end my life to day.
Exit.
Enter one in Armour.

Hect.
Stand, stand, thou Greeke, / Thou art a goodly marke:
No? wilt thou not? I like thy armour well,
Ile frush it, and vnlocke the riuets all,
But Ile be maister of it: wilt thou not beast abide?
Why then flye on, Ile hunt thee for thy hide.
Exit.
Original text
Act V, Scene VII
Enter Achilles with Myrmidons.

Achil.
Come here about me you my Myrmidons:
Marke what I say; attend me where I wheele:
Strike not a stroake, but keepe your selues in breath;
And when I haue the bloudy Hector found,
Empale him with your weapons round about:
In fellest manner execute your arme.
Follow me sirs, and my proceedings eye;
It is decreed, Hector the great must dye.
Exit.
Enter Thersites, Menelaus, and Paris.

Ther.
The Cuckold and the Cuckold maker are at it:
now bull, now dogge, lowe; Paris lowe; now my
double hen'd sparrow; lowe Paris, lowe; the bull
has the game: ware hornes ho?
Exit Paris and Menelaus.
Enter Bastard.

Bast.
Turne slaue and fight.

Ther.
What art thou?

Bast.
A Bastard Sonne of Priams.

Ther.
I am a Bastard too, I loue Bastards, I am a
Bastard begot, Bastard instructed, Bastard in minde,
Bastard in valour, in euery thing illegitimate: one Beare
will not bite another, and wherefore should one Bastard?
take heede, the quarrel's most ominous to vs: if
the Sonne of a whore fight for a whore, he tempts
iudgement: farewell Bastard.

Bast.
The diuell take thee coward.
Exeunt.
Original text
Act V, Scene VIII
Enter Hector.

Hect.
Most putrified core so faire without:
Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life.
Now is my daies worke done; Ile take good breath:
Rest Sword, thou hast thy fill of bloud and death.
Enter Achilles and his Myrmidons.

Achil.
Looke Hector how the Sunne begins to set;
How vgly night comes breathing at his heeles,
Euen with the vaile and darking of the Sunne.
To close the day vp, Hectors life is done.

Hect.
I am vnarm'd, forgoe this vantage Greeke.

Achil.
Strike fellowes, strike, this is the man I seeke.

So Illion fall thou: now Troy sinke downe;
Here lyes thy heart, thy sinewes, and thy bone.
On Myrmidons, cry you all a maine,
Achilles hath the mighty Hector slaine.
Retreat.
Harke, a retreat vpon our Grecian part.

Gree.
The Troian Trumpets sounds the like my Lord.

Achi.
The dragon wing of night ore-spreds the earth
And stickler-like the Armies seperates
My halfe supt Sword, that frankly would haue fed,
Pleas'd with this dainty bed; thus goes to bed.
Come, tye his body to my horses tayle;
Along the field, I will the Troian traile.
Exeunt.
Original text
Act V, Scene IX
Sound Retreat. Shout. Enter Agamemnon, Aiax, Menelaus, Nestor,
Diomed, and the rest marching.

Aga.
Harke, harke, what shout is that?

Nest.
Peace Drums.

Sold.
Achilles, Achilles, Hector's
slaine, Achilles.

Dio.
The bruite is, Hector's slaine, and by Achilles.

Aia.
If it be so, yet braglesse let it be:
Great Hector was a man as good as he.

Agam.
March patiently along; let one be sent
To pray Achilles see vs at our Tent.
If in his death the gods haue vs befrended,
Great Troy is ours, and our sharpe wars are ended.
Exeunt.
Original text
Act V, Scene X
Enter Aneas, Paris, Anthenor and Deiphobus.

Ane.
Stand hoe, yet are we maisters of the field,
Neuer goe home; here starue we out the night.
Enter Troylus.

Troy.
Hector is slaine.

All.
Hector? the gods forbid.

Troy.
Hee's dead: and at the murtherers Horses taile,
In beastly sort, drag'd through the shamefull Field.
Frowne on you heauens, effect your rage with speede:
Sit gods vpon your throanes, and smile at Troy.
I say at once, let your briefe plagues be mercy,
And linger not our sure destructions on.

Ane.
My Lord, you doe discomfort all the Hoste.

Troy.
You vnderstand me not, that tell me so:
I doe not speake of flight, of feare, of death,
But dare all imminence that gods and men,
Addresse their dangers in. Hector is gone:
Who shall tell Priam so? or Hecuba?
Let him that will a screechoule aye be call'd,
Goe in to Troy, and say there, Hector's dead:
There is a word will Priam turne to stone;
Make wels, and Niobes of the maides and wiues;
Coole statues of the youth: and in a word,
Scarre Troy out of it selfe. But march away,
Hector is dead: there is no more to say.
Stay yet: you vile abhominable Tents,
Thus proudly pight vpon our Phrygian plaines:
Let Titan rise as early as he dare,
Ile through, and through you; & thou great siz'd coward:
No space of Earth shall sunder our two hates,
Ile haunt thee, like a wicked conscience still,
That mouldeth goblins swift as frensies thoughts.
Strike a free march to Troy, with comfort goe:
Hope of reuenge, shall hide our inward woe.
Enter Pandarus.

Pand.
But heare you? heare you?

Troy.
Hence broker, lackie, ignomy, and shame
Pursue thy life, and liue aye with thy name.
Exeunt.

Pan.
A goodly medcine for mine aking bones:
oh world, world, world! thus is the poore agent dispisde:
Oh traitours and bawdes; how earnestly are you
set aworke, and how ill requited? why should our
indeuour be so desir'd, and the performance so
loath'd? What Verse for it? what instance for it? let
me see.
Full merrily the humble Bee doth sing,
Till he hath lost his hony, and his sting.
And being once subdu'd in armed taile,
Sweete hony, and sweete notes together faile.
Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted
cloathes;
As many as be here of Panders hall,
Your eyes halfe out, weepe out at Pandar's fall:
Or if you cannot weepe, yet giue some grones;
Though not for me, yet for your aking bones:
Brethren and sisters of the hold-dore trade,
Some two months hence, my will shall here be made:
It should be now, but that my feare is this:
Some galled Goose of Winchester would hisse:
Till then, Ile sweate, and seeke about for eases;
And at that time bequeath you my diseases.
Exeunt.
Modern text
Act V, Scene I
Enter Achilles and Patroclus

ACHILLES
I'll heat his blood with Greekish wine tonight,
Which with my scimitar I'll cool tomorrow.
Patroclus, let us feast him to the height.

PATROCLUS
Here comes Thersites.
Enter Thersites

ACHILLES
How now, thou core of envy?
Thou crusty botch of nature, what's the news?

THERSITES
Why, thou picture of what thou seemest,
and idol of idiot-worshippers, here's a letter for thee.

ACHILLES
From whence, fragment?

THERSITES
Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy.
Achilles stands aside to read his letter

PATROCLUS
Who keeps the tent now?

THERSITES
The surgeon's box, or the patient's wound.

PATROCLUS
Well said, adversity! And what need these
tricks?

THERSITES
Prithee, be silent, boy; I profit not by thy
talk. Thou art thought to be Achilles' male varlet.

PATROCLUS
Male varlet, you rogue? What's that?

THERSITES
Why, his masculine whore. Now, the rotten
diseases of the south, guts-griping ruptures, catarrhs,
loads o' gravel i'th' back, lethargies, cold palsies, and
the like, take and take again such preposterous
discoveries!

PATROCLUS
Why, thou damnable box of envy, thou,
what mean'st thou to curse thus?

THERSITES
Do I curse thee?

PATROCLUS
Why no, you ruinous butt, you whoreson
indistinguishable cur.

THERSITES
No! Why art thou then exasperate, thou idle
immaterial skein of sleave-silk, thou green sarcenet
flap for a sore eye, thou tassel of a prodigal's purse,
thou? Ah, how the poor world is pestered with such
waterflies, diminutives of nature!

PATROCLUS
Out, gall!

THERSITES
Finch-egg!

ACHILLES
My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite
From my great purpose in tomorrow's battle.
Here is a letter from Queen Hecuba,
A token from her daughter, my fair love,
Both taxing me and gaging me to keep
An oath that I have sworn. I will not break it.
Fall Greeks; fail fame; honour or go or stay;
My major vow lies here; this I'll obey. –
Come, come, Thersites, help to trim my tent;
This night in banqueting must all be spent. –
Away, Patroclus!
Exeunt Achilles and Patroclus

THERSITES
With too much blood and too little brain,
these two may run mad; but if with too much brain and
too little blood they do, I'll be a curer of madmen.
Here's Agamemnon, an honest fellow enough, and
one that loves quails, but he has not so much brain as
ear-wax; and the goodly transformation of Jupiter
there, his brother, the bull, the primitive statue and
oblique memorial of cuckolds, a thrifty shoeing-horn
in a chain, hanging at his brother's leg – to what form
but that he is should wit larded with malice, and malice
forced with wit, turn him to? To an ass were nothing;
he is both ass and ox. To an ox were nothing; he is both
ox and ass. To be a dog, a mule, a cat, a fitchew, a toad,
a lizard, an owl, a puttock, or a herring without a roe, I
would not care; but to be Menelaus I would conspire
against destiny. Ask me not what I would be, if I were
not Thersites; for I care not to be the louse of a lazar so
I were not Menelaus. – Hoyday! Spirits and fires!
Enter Hector, Troilus, Ajax, Agamemnon, Ulysses,
Nestor, Menelaus, and Diomedes, with lights

AGAMEMNON
We go wrong, we go wrong.

AJAX
No, yonder 'tis –
There, where we see the lights.

HECTOR
I trouble you.

AJAX
No, not a whit.
Enter Achilles

ULYSSES
Here comes himself to guide you.

ACHILLES
Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, princes all.

AGAMEMNON
So now, fair prince of Troy, I bid good night.
Ajax commands the guard to tend on you.

HECTOR
Thanks, and good night to the Greeks' general.

MENELAUS
Good night, my lord.

HECTOR
Good night, sweet Lord Menelaus.

THERSITES
Sweet draught, sweet, quoth 'a! Sweet sink,
sweet sewer!

ACHILLES
Good night and welcome both at once to those
That go or tarry.

AGAMEMNON
Good night.
Exeunt Agamemnon and Menelaus

ACHILLES
Old Nestor tarries, and you too, Diomed;
Keep Hector company an hour or two.

DIOMEDES
I cannot, lord; I have important business,
The tide whereof is now. – Good night, great Hector.

HECTOR
Give me your hand.

ULYSSES
(aside to Troilus)
Follow his torch; he goes
To Calchas' tent. I'll keep you company.

TROILUS
(aside to Ulysses)
Sweet sir, you honour me.

HECTOR
And so, good night.
Exit Diomedes, Ulysses and Troilus following

ACHILLES
Come, come, enter my tent.
Exeunt Achilles, Hector, Ajax, and Nestor

THERSITES
That same Diomed's a false-hearted rogue,
a most unjust knave; I will no more trust him when he
leers than I will a serpent when he hisses. He will
spend his mouth, and promise, like Brabbler the
hound; but when he performs, astronomers foretell it,
that it is prodigious, there will come some change. The
sun borrows of the moon when Diomed keeps his
word. I will rather leave to see Hector than not to dog
him: they say he keeps a Trojan drab, and uses the
traitor Calchas his tent. I'll after. – Nothing but
lechery! All incontinent varlets!
Exit
Modern text
Act V, Scene II
Enter Diomedes

DIOMEDES
What, are you up here, ho? Speak.

CALCHAS
(within) Who calls?

DIOMEDES
Diomed. – Calchas, I think? Where's your
daughter?

CALCHAS
(within)
She comes to you.
Enter Troilus and Ulysses at a distance; after them,
Thersites

ULYSSES
Stand where the torch may not discover us.
Enter Cressida

TROILUS
Cressid comes forth to him.

DIOMEDES
How now, my charge?

CRESSIDA
Now, my sweet guardian! – Hark, a word with you.
She whispers to him

TROILUS
Yea, so familiar!

ULYSSES
She will sing any man at first sight.

THERSITES
And any man may sing her, if he can take her
clef: she's noted.

DIOMEDES
Will you remember?

CRESSIDA
Remember? Yes.

DIOMEDES
Nay, but do, then,
And let your mind be coupled with your words.

TROILUS
What should she remember?

ULYSSES
List!

CRESSIDA
Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly.

THERSITES
Roguery!

DIOMEDES
Nay then –

CRESSIDA
I'll tell you what –

DIOMEDES
Foh, foh, come, tell a pin! You are forsworn.

CRESSIDA
In faith I cannot; what would you have me do?

THERSITES
A juggling trick – to be secretly open.

DIOMEDES
What did you swear you would bestow on me?

CRESSIDA
I prithee, do not hold me to mine oath;
Bid me do anything but that, sweet Greek.

DIOMEDES
Good night.

TROILUS
Hold, patience!

ULYSSES
How now, Trojan?

CRESSIDA
Diomed –

DIOMEDES
No, no, good night; I'll be your fool no more.

TROILUS
Thy better must.

CRESSIDA
Hark, one word in your ear.

TROILUS
O plague and madness!

ULYSSES
You are moved, Prince; let us depart, I pray you,
Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself
To wrathful terms. This place is dangerous,
The time right deadly; I beseech you, go.

TROILUS
Behold, I pray you.

ULYSSES
Nay, good my lord, go off.
You flow to great distraction; come, my lord.

TROILUS
I pray thee, stay.

ULYSSES
You have not patience; come.

TROILUS
I pray you, stay; by hell and all hell's torments,
I will not speak a word.

DIOMEDES
And so, good night.

CRESSIDA
Nay, but you part in anger.

TROILUS
Doth that grieve thee?
O withered truth!

ULYSSES
Why, how now, lord?

TROILUS
By Jove,
I will be patient.

CRESSIDA
Guardian! Why, Greek?

DIOMEDES
Foh, foh, adieu; you palter.

CRESSIDA
In faith, I do not: come hither once again.

ULYSSES
You shake, my lord, at something; will you go?
You will break out.

TROILUS
She strokes his cheek!

ULYSSES
Come, come.

TROILUS
Nay, stay; by Jove, I will not speak a word.
There is between my will and all offences
A guard of patience; stay a little while.

THERSITES
How the devil luxury, with his fat rump and
potato-finger, tickles these together! Fry, lechery, fry!

DIOMEDES
But will you, then?

CRESSIDA
In faith, I will, lo; never trust me else.

DIOMEDES
Give me some token for the surety of it.

CRESSIDA
I'll fetch you one.
Exit

ULYSSES
You have sworn patience.

TROILUS
Fear me not, sweet lord;
I will not be myself, nor have cognition
Of what I feel: I am all patience.
Enter Cressida

THERSITES
Now the pledge; now, now, now!

CRESSIDA
Here, Diomed, keep this sleeve.
She gives him the sleeve

TROILUS
O beauty, where is thy faith?

ULYSSES
My lord –

TROILUS
I will be patient; outwardly I will.

CRESSIDA
You look upon that sleeve; behold it well.
He loved me – O false wench! – Give't me again.
She snatches the sleeve

DIOMEDES
Whose was't?

CRESSIDA
It is no matter, now I have't again.
I will not meet with you tomorrow night;
I prithee, Diomed, visit me no more.

THERSITES
Now she sharpens – well said, whetstone!

DIOMEDES
I shall have it.

CRESSIDA
What, this?

DIOMEDES
Ay, that.

CRESSIDA
O all you gods! – O pretty, pretty pledge!
Thy master now lies thinking in his bed
Of thee and me, and sighs, and takes my glove,
And gives memorial dainty kisses to it
As I kiss thee –
Diomedes takes the sleeve
Nay, do not snatch it from me;
He that takes that doth take my heart withal.

DIOMEDES
I had your heart before; this follows it.

TROILUS
I did swear patience.

CRESSIDA
You shall not have it, Diomed, faith, you shall not;
I'll give you something else.

DIOMEDES
I will have this. Whose was it?

CRESSIDA
It is no matter.

DIOMEDES
Come, tell me whose it was.

CRESSIDA
'Twas one's that loved me better than you will.
But now you have it, take it.

DIOMEDES
Whose was it?

CRESSIDA
By all Diana's waiting-women yond,
And by herself, I will not tell you whose.

DIOMEDES
Tomorrow will I wear it on my helm;
And grieve his spirit that dares not challenge it.

TROILUS
Wert thou the devil, and wor'st it on thy horn,
It should be challenged.

CRESSIDA
Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis done, 'tis past – and yet it is not;
I will not keep my word.

DIOMEDES
Why then, farewell;
Thou never shalt mock Diomed again.

CRESSIDA
You shall not go; one cannot speak a word
But it straight starts you.

DIOMEDES
I do not like this fooling.

THERSITES
Nor I, by Pluto: but that that likes not you
Pleases me best.

DIOMEDES
What, shall I come? The hour?

CRESSIDA
Ay, come – O Jove! – do come: I shall be plagued.

DIOMEDES
Farewell till then.

CRESSIDA
Good night; I prithee come.
Exit Diomedes
Troilus, farewell! One eye yet looks on thee,
But with my heart the other eye doth see.
Ah, poor our sex! This fault in us I find,
The error of our eye directs our mind:
What error leads must err – O, then conclude,
Minds swayed by eyes are full of turpitude.
Exit

THERSITES
A proof of strength she could not publish more,
Unless she said ‘ My mind is now turned whore.’

ULYSSES
All's done, my lord.

TROILUS
It is.

ULYSSES
Why stay we then?

TROILUS
To make a recordation to my soul
Of every syllable that here was spoke.
But if I tell how these two did co-act,
Shall I not lie in publishing a truth?
Sith yet there is a credence in my heart,
An esperance so obstinately strong,
That doth invert th' attest of eyes and ears,
As if those organs had deceptious functions,
Created only to calumniate.
Was Cressid here?

ULYSSES
I cannot conjure, Trojan.

TROILUS
She was not, sure.

ULYSSES
Most sure she was.

TROILUS
Why, my negation hath no taste of madness.

ULYSSES
Nor mine, my lord: Cressid was here but now.

TROILUS
Let it not be believed for womanhood.
Think, we had mothers: do not give advantage
To stubborn critics, apt, without a theme
For depravation, to square the general sex
By Cressid's rule; rather think this not Cressid.

ULYSSES
What hath she done, Prince, that can soil our mothers?

TROILUS
Nothing at all, unless that this were she.

THERSITES
Will he swagger himself out on's own eyes?

TROILUS
This she? No, this is Diomed's Cressida.
If beauty have a soul, this is not she;
If souls guide vows, if vows be sanctimony,
If sanctimony be the gods' delight,
If there be rule in unity itself,
This is not she. O madness of discourse,
That cause sets up with and against itself!
Bifold authority, where reason can revolt
Without perdition, and loss assume all reason
Without revolt. This is, and is not, Cressid!
Within my soul there doth conduce a fight
Of this strange nature, that a thing inseparate
Divides more wider than the sky and earth;
And yet the spacious breadth of this division
Admits no orifex for a point as subtle
As Ariachne's broken woof to enter.
Instance, O instance, strong as Pluto's gates!
Cressid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven.
Instance, O instance, strong as heaven itself!
The bonds of heaven are slipped, dissolved, and loosed;
And with another knot, five-finger-tied,
The fractions of her faith, orts of her love,
The fragments, scraps, the bits, and greasy relics
Of her o'er-eaten faith, are bound to Diomed.

ULYSSES
May worthy Troilus be half attached
With that which here his passion doth express?

TROILUS
Ay, Greek, and that shall be divulged well
In characters as red as Mars his heart
Inflamed with Venus; never did young man fancy
With so eternal and so fixed a soul.
Hark, Greek: as much as I do Cressid love,
So much by weight hate I her Diomed.
That sleeve is mine that he'll bear in his helm;
Were it a casque composed by Vulcan's skill,
My sword should bite it; not the dreadful spout,
Which shipmen do the hurricano call,
Constringed in mass by the almighty sun,
Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptune's ear
In his descent than shall my prompted sword
Falling on Diomed.

THERSITES
He'll tickle it for his concupy.

TROILUS
O Cressid! O false Cressid! False, false, false!
Let all untruths stand by thy stained name,
And they'll seem glorious.

ULYSSES
O, contain yourself;
Your passion draws ears hither.
Enter Aeneas

AENEAS
I have been seeking you this hour, my lord.
Hector by this is arming him in Troy.
Ajax, your guard, stays to conduct you home.

TROILUS
Have with you, Prince. – My courteous lord, adieu. –
Farewell, revolted fair! – and, Diomed,
Stand fast, and wear a castle on thy head!

ULYSSES
I'll bring you to the gates.

TROILUS
Accept distracted thanks.
Exeunt Troilus, Aeneas, and Ulysses

THERSITES
Would I could meet that rogue Diomed! I
would croak like a raven; I would bode, I would bode.
Patroclus will give me anything for the intelligence of
this whore; the parrot will not do more for an almond
than he for a commodious drab. Lechery, lechery, still
wars and lechery; nothing else holds fashion! A burning
devil take them!
Exit
Modern text
Act V, Scene III
Enter Hector and Andromache

ANDROMACHE
When was my lord so much ungently tempered,
To stop his ears against admonishment?
Unarm, unarm, and do not fight today.

HECTOR
You train me to offend you; get you gone.
By all the everlasting gods, I'll go!

ANDROMACHE
My dreams will sure prove ominous to the day.

HECTOR
No more, I say.
Enter Cassandra

CASSANDRA
Where is my brother Hector?

ANDROMACHE
Here, sister; armed, and bloody in intent.
Consort with me in loud and dear petition;
Pursue we him on knees; for I have dreamed
Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night
Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter.

CASSANDRA
O, 'tis true.

HECTOR
Ho! Bid my trumpet sound!

CASSANDRA
No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet brother.

HECTOR
Be gone, I say; the gods have heard me swear.

CASSANDRA
The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows;
They are polluted offerings, more abhorred
Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.

ANDROMACHE
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.

CASSANDRA
It is the purpose that makes strong the vow;
But vows to every purpose must not hold.
Unarm, sweet Hector.

HECTOR
Hold you still, I say;
Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate.
Lie every man holds dear, but the dear man
Holds honour far more precious-dear than life.
Enter Troilus
How now, young man, mean'st thou to fight today?

ANDROMACHE
Cassandra, call my father to persuade.
Exit Cassandra

HECTOR
No, faith, young Troilus; doff thy harness, youth.
I am today i'the vein of chivalry.
Let grow thy sinews till their knots be strong,
And tempt not yet the brushes of the war.
Unarm thee, go; and doubt thou not, brave boy,
I'll stand today for thee, and me, and Troy.

TROILUS
Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you,
Which better fits a lion than a man.

HECTOR
What vice is that? Good Troilus, chide me for it.

TROILUS
When many times the captive Grecian falls,
Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword,
You bid them rise and live.

HECTOR
O,'tis fair play.

TROILUS
Fool's play, by heaven, Hector.

HECTOR
How now, how now?

TROILUS
For th' love of all the gods,
Let's leave the hermit Pity with our mothers;
And when we have our armours buckled on,
The venomed vengeance ride upon our swords,
Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth!

HECTOR
Fie, savage, fie!

TROILUS
Hector, then 'tis wars.

HECTOR
Troilus, I would not have you fight today.

TROILUS
Who should withhold me?
Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars
Beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire;
Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees,
Their eyes o'ergalled with recourse of tears;
Nor you, my brother, with your true sword drawn,
Opposed to hinder me, should stop my way,
But by my ruin.
Enter Priam and Cassandra

CASSANDRA
Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him fast;
He is thy crutch. Now if thou lose thy stay,
Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee,
Fall all together.

PRIAM
Come, Hector, come; go back.
Thy wife hath dreamed, thy mother hath had visions,
Cassandra doth foresee, and I myself
Am like a prophet suddenly enrapt,
To tell thee that this day is ominous.
Therefore, come back.

HECTOR
Aeneas is a-field,
And I do stand engaged to many Greeks,
Even in the faith of valour, to appear
This morning to them.

PRIAM
Ay, but thou shalt not go.

HECTOR
I must not break my faith.
You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sir,
Let me not shame respect, but give me leave
To take that course by your consent and voice,
Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam.

CASSANDRA
O Priam, yield not to him!

ANDROMACHE
Do not, dear father.

HECTOR
Andromache, I am offended with you.
Upon the love you bear me, get you in.
Exit Andromache

TROILUS
This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl
Makes all these bodements.

CASSANDRA
O, farewell, dear Hector!
Look how thou diest! Look, how thy eye turns pale!
Look how thy wounds do bleed at many vents!
Hark how Troy roars, how Hecuba cries out,
How poor Andromache shrills her dolour forth!
Behold distraction, frenzy, and amazement
Like witless antics one another meet,
And all cry ‘ Hector! Hector's dead!’ – O Hector!

TROILUS
Away! Away!

CASSANDRA
Farewell – yes, soft: Hector, I take my leave.
Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive.
Exit

HECTOR
You are amazed, my liege, at her exclaim.
Go in, and cheer the town. We'll forth, and fight,
Do deeds worth praise, and tell you them at night.

PRIAM
Farewell; the gods with safety stand about thee!
Exeunt Priam and Hector by different doors. Alarum

TROILUS
They are at it, hark! – Proud Diomed, believe
I come to lose my arm or win my sleeve.
Enter Pandarus

PANDARUS
Do you hear, my lord? Do you hear?

TROILUS
What now?

PANDARUS
Here's a letter come from yond poor girl.

TROILUS
Let me read.

PANDARUS
A whoreson tisick, a whoreson rascally tisick
so troubles me, and the foolish fortune of this girl; and
what one thing, what another, that I shall leave you one
o' these days; and I have rheum in mine eyes too, and
such an ache in my bones that unless a man were curst
I cannot tell what to think on't. – What says she there?

TROILUS
Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart;
Th' effect doth operate another way.
He tears the letter
Go, wind, to wind, there turn and change together.
My love with words and errors still she feeds,
But edifies another with her deeds.
Exeunt
Modern text
Act V, Scene IV
Alarum; excursions. Enter Thersites

THERSITES
Now they are clapper-clawing one another;
I'll go look on. That dissembling abominable varlet
Diomed has got that same scurvy doting foolish young
knave's sleeve of Troy there in his helm. I would fain
see them meet, that that same young Trojan ass, that
loves the whore there, might send that Greekish
whore-masterly villain with the sleeve back to the
dissembling luxurious drab of a sleeveless errand.
O'th't' other side, the policy of those crafty-swearing
rascals – that stale old mouse-eaten dry cheese, Nestor,
and that same dog-fox, Ulysses – is not proved
worth a blackberry. They set me up in policy that
mongrel cur, Ajax, against that dog of as bad a kind,
Achilles; and now is the cur Ajax prouder than the cur
Achilles, and will not arm today; whereupon the Grecians
begin to proclaim barbarism, and policy grows
into an ill opinion.
Enter Diomedes and Troilus
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

THERSITES
God-a-mercy that thou wilt believe me; but
a plague break thy neck – for frighting me! What's
become of the wenching rogues? I think they have
swallowed one another. I would laugh at that miracle –
yet, in a sort, lechery eats itself. I'll seek them.
Exit
Modern text
Act V, Scene V
Enter Diomedes and his Servant

DIOMEDES
Go, go, my servant, take thou Troilus' horse;
Present the fair steed to my Lady Cressid.
Fellow, commend my service to her beauty;
Tell her I have chastised the amorous Trojan,
And am her knight by proof.

SERVANT
I go, my lord.
Exit
Enter Agamemnon

AGAMEMNON
Renew, renew! The fierce Polydamas
Hath beat down Menon; bastard Margarelon
Hath Doreus prisoner,
And stands colossus-wise, waving his beam,
Upon the pashed corpses of the kings
Epistrophus and Cedius. Polyxenes is slain,
Amphimachus and Thoas deadly hurt,
Patroclus ta'en or slain, and Palamedes
Sore hurt and bruised; the dreadful Sagittary
Appals our numbers. Haste we, Diomed,
To reinforcement, or we perish all.
Enter Nestor with soldiers

NESTOR
Go, bear Patroclus' body to Achilles,
And bid the snail-paced Ajax arm for shame. –
There is a thousand Hectors in the field;
Now here he fights on Galathe his horse,
And there lacks work; anon he's there afoot,
And there they fly or die, like scaled schools
Before the belching whale; then is he yonder,
And there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge,
Fall down before him, like the mower's swath:
Here, there, and everywhere, he leaves and takes,
Dexterity so obeying appetite
That what he will he does; and does so much
That proof is called impossibility.
Enter Ulysses

ULYSSES
O, courage, courage, princes! Great Achilles
Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance;
Patroclus' wounds have roused his drowsy blood,
Together with his mangled Myrmidons,
That noseless, handless, hacked and chipped, come to him,
Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend,
And foams at mouth, and he is armed and at it,
Roaring for Troilus, who hath done today
Mad and fantastic execution,
Engaging and redeeming of himself
With such a careless force and forceless care
As if that luck, in very spite of cunning,
Bade him win all.
Enter Ajax

AJAX
Troilus! Thou coward Troilus!
Exit

DIOMEDES
Ay, there, there!

NESTOR
So, so, we draw together.
Exit
Enter Achilles

ACHILLES
Where is this Hector? –
Come, come, thou boy-queller, show thy face;
Know what it is to meet Achilles angry –
Hector! Where's Hector? I will none but Hector.
Exeunt
Modern text
Act V, Scene VI
Enter Ajax

AJAX
Troilus, thou coward Troilus, show thy head!
Enter Diomedes

DIOMEDES
Troilus, I say! Where's Troilus?

AJAX
What wouldst thou?

DIOMEDES
I would correct him.

AJAX
Were I the general, thou shouldst have my office
Ere that correction. – Troilus, I say! What, Troilus!
Enter Troilus

TROILUS
O traitor Diomed! Turn thy false face, thou traitor,
And pay thy life thou owest me for my horse!

DIOMEDES
Ha, art thou there?

AJAX
I'll fight with him alone; stand, Diomed.

DIOMEDES
He is my prize; I will not look upon.

TROILUS
Come, both you cogging Greeks; have at you both!
Exeunt, fighting
Enter Hector

HECTOR
Yea, Troilus? O, well fought, my youngest brother!
Enter Achilles

ACHILLES
Now do I see thee, ha? Have at thee, Hector!
They fight

HECTOR
Pause, if thou wilt.

ACHILLES
I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Trojan;
Be happy that my arms are out of use.
My rest and negligence befriends thee now,
But thou anon shalt hear of me again;
Till when, go seek thy fortune.
Exit

HECTOR
Fare thee well:
I would have been much more a fresher man,
Had I expected thee.
Enter Troilus
How now, my brother!

TROILUS
Ajax hath ta'en Aeneas. Shall it be?
No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven,
He shall not carry him! I'll be ta'en too
Or bring him off. Fate, hear me what I say!
I reck not though thou end my life today.
Exit
Enter one in sumptuous armour

HECTOR
Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou art a goodly mark –
No? Wilt thou not? – I like thy armour well;
I'll frush it, and unlock the rivets all,
But I'll be master of it. Wilt thou not, beast, abide?
Why then, fly on; I'll hunt thee for thy hide.
Exeunt
Modern text
Act V, Scene VII
Enter Achilles with Myrmidons

ACHILLES
Come here about me, you my Myrmidons;
Mark what I say. Attend me where I wheel;
Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath,
And when I have the bloody Hector found,
Impale him with your weapons round about;
In fellest manner execute your arms.
Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye.
It is decreed Hector the great must die.
Exeunt
Enter Menelaus and Paris, fighting; then Thersites

THERSITES
The cuckold and the cuckold-maker are at
it. Now, bull! Now, dog! 'Loo, Paris, 'loo! Now, my
double-horned Spartan! 'Loo, Paris, 'loo! – The bull
has the game; 'ware horns, ho!
Exeunt Paris and Menelaus
Enter Margarelon

MARGARELON
Turn, slave, and fight.

THERSITES
What art thou?

MARGARELON
A bastard son of Priam's.

THERSITES
I am a bastard too; I love bastards. I am a
bastard begot, bastard instructed, bastard in mind,
bastard in valour, in everything illegitimate. One bear
will not bite another, and wherefore should one bastard?
Take heed, the quarrel's most ominous to us – if
the son of a whore fight for a whore, he tempts
judgement. Farewell, bastard.
Exit

MARGARELON
The devil take thee, coward!
Exit
Modern text
Act V, Scene VIII
Enter Hector, carrying a suit of armour

HECTOR
Most putrefied core, so fair without,
Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life.
Now is my day's work done; I'll take good breath.
Rest, sword; thou hast thy fill of blood and death.
Enter Achilles and his Myrmidons

ACHILLES
Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set,
How ugly night comes breathing at his heels;
Even with the vail and dark'ning of the sun
To close the day up, Hector's life is done.

HECTOR
I am unarmed; forego this vantage, Greek.

ACHILLES
Strike, fellows, strike; this is the man I seek.
Hector falls
So, Ilium, fall thou; now, Troy, sink down!
Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone. –
On, Myrmidons; and cry you all amain:
‘ Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.’
A retreat sounded
Hark, a retire upon our Grecian part.

MYRMIDONS
The Trojan trumpets sound the like, my lord.

ACHILLES
The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the earth,
And, stickler-like, the armies separates.
My half-supped sword, that frankly would have fed,
Pleased with this dainty bait, thus goes to bed.
Come, tie his body to my horse's tail;
Along the field I will the Trojan trail.
Exeunt
Modern text
Act V, Scene IX
Enter Agamemnon, Ajax, Menelaus, Nestor,
Diomedes, and the rest, marching to drumbeats.
Shouts within

AGAMEMNON
Hark, hark, what shout is that?

NESTOR
Peace, drums!

SOLDIERS
(shouting within)
Achilles! Achilles! Hector's
slain! Achilles!

DIOMEDES
The bruit is Hector's slain, and by Achilles.

AJAX
If it be so, yet bragless let it be;
Great Hector was a man as good as he.

AGAMEMNON
March patiently along. Let one be sent
To pray Achilles see us at our tent. –
If in his death the gods have us befriended,
Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are ended.
Exeunt
Modern text
Act V, Scene X
Enter Aeneas, Paris, Antenor, Deiphobus, and soldiers
with drums

AENEAS
Stand, ho! Yet are we masters of the field.
Never go home; here starve we out the night.
Enter Troilus

TROILUS
Hector is slain.

ALL
Hector? The gods forbid!

TROILUS
He's dead; and at the murderer's horse's tail,
In beastly sort, dragged through the shameful field.
Frown on, you heavens, effect your rage with speed!
Sit, gods, upon your thrones, and smile at Troy!
I say, at once let your brief plagues be mercy,
And linger not our sure destructions on!

AENEAS
My lord, you do discomfort all the host.

TROILUS
You understand me not that tell me so.
I do not speak of flight, of fear, of death,
But dare all imminence that gods and men
Address their dangers in. Hector is gone;
Who shall tell Priam so, or Hecuba?
Let him that will a screech-owl aye be called
Go into Troy, and say there ‘ Hector's dead ’ –
There is a word will Priam turn to stone,
Make wells and Niobes of the maids and wives,
Cold statues of the youth, and, in a word,
Scare Troy out of itself. But march away;
Hector is dead; there is no more to say –
Stay yet. You vile abominable tents,
Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian plains,
Let Titan rise as early as he dare,
I'll through and through you! – And, thou great-sized coward,
No space of earth shall sunder our two hates;
I'll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still,
That mouldeth goblins swift as frenzy's thoughts. –
Strike a free march to Troy! With comfort go;
Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe.
Enter Pandarus

PANDARUS
But hear you, hear you!

TROILUS
Hence, broker-lackey! Ignomy and shame
Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name!
Exeunt all but Pandarus

PANDARUS
A goodly medicine for mine aching bones! –
O world, world, world! Thus is the poor agent despised!
O traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you
set a-work, and how ill requited! Why should our
endeavour be so desired, and the performance so
loathed? What verse for it? What instance for it? – Let
me see:
Full merrily the humble-bee doth sing,
Till he hath lost his honey and his sting;
And being once subdued in armed tail,
Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail.
Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted
cloths:
As many as be here of Pandar's hall,
Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar's fall;
Or if you cannot weep, yet give some groans,
Though not for me, yet for your aching bones.
Brethren and sisters of the hold-door trade,
Some two months hence my will shall here be made;
It should be now, but that my fear is this:
Some galled goose of Winchester would hiss.
Till then I'll sweat, and seek about for eases,
And at that time bequeath you my diseases.
Exit
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