Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: W. L. Godshalk
Peer Reviewed

Troilus and Cressida (Quarto 1, 1609)

Enter Æneas, Paris, Antenor, Diephobus.
3535Æne. Stand ho? yet are we masters of the field,
Enter Troylus.
Troy. Neuer goe home, here starue we out the night,
Hector is slaine.
All. Hector! the gods forbid.
3540Troy. Hee's dead and at the murtherers horses taile,
In bestly sort dragd through the shamefull field:
Frowne on you heauens, effect your rage with speed,
Sit gods vpon your thrones, and smile at Troy.
I say at once, let your breefe plagues be mercy,
3545And linger not our sure destructions on.
Æne. My Lord you doe discomfort all the host.
Troy. You vnderstand me not that tell me so,
I do not speake of flight, of feare of death
But dare all immynence that gods and men
3550Addresse their daungers in. Hector is gone:
Who shall tell Priam so or Hecuba?
Let him that will a scrich-ould aye be call'd,
Goe into Troy and say their Hectors dead,
There is a word will Priam turne to stone,
3555Make wells and Niobe's of the maides and wiues:
Could statues of the youth and in a word,
Scarre Troy out of it selfe, there is no more to say,
Stay yet you proud abhominable tents:
3560Thus proudly pitcht vpon our Phrigian plaines,
Let Tytan rise as earely as he dare,
Ile through, and through you, and thou great siz'd coward,
No space of earth shall sunder our two hates:
Ile haunt thee like a wicked conscience still.
3565That mouldeth goblins swift as frienzes thoughts,
Strike a free march, to Troy with comfort goe
Hope of reueng shall hide our inward woe.
Enter Pandarus.
Pan. But here you, here you.
3570Troy. Hence broker, lacky, ignomyny, shame,
Pursue thy life, and liue aye with thy name.
Exeunt all but Pandarus.
Pan. A goodly medicine for my aking bones, Oh world,
world --- thus is the poore agent despis'd, Oh traitors and
bawds, how earnestly are you set a worke, and how ill re-
3575quited, why should our endeuour bee so lou'd and the per-
formance 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 hony and his sting.
3580And being once subdude in armed taile,
Sweet hony, and sweet notes together faile.
Good traiders in the flesh, set this in your painted cloathes,
As many as be here of Pandars hall,
Your eyes halfe out weepe out at Pandars fall.
3585Or if you cannot weepe yet giue some grones,
Though not for me yet for my aking bones:
Brethren and sisters of the hold-ore trade,
Some two monthes hence my will shall here be made.
It should be now, but that my feare is this,
3590Some gauled goose of Winchester would hisse.
Till then ile sweat and seeke about for eases,
And at that time bequeath you my diseases.