Internet Shakespeare Editions

About this text

  • Title: Troilus and Cressida (Folio 1, 1623)
  • Editor: William Godshalk
  • ISBN: 1-55058-301-8

    Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: William Godshalk
    Peer Reviewed

    Troilus and Cressida (Folio 1, 1623)

    Enter Aiax.
    Aia. Troylus, thou coward Troylus, shew thy head.
    Enter Diomed.
    Diom. Troylus, I say, wher's Troylus?
    Aia. What would'st thou?
    3430Diom. 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.
    3435Troy. 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.
    3440Dio. He is my prize, I will not looke vpon.
    Troy. Come both you coging Greekes, haue at you
    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:
    3450My rest and negligence befriends thee now,
    But thou anon shalt heare of me againe:
    Till when, goe seeke thy fortune.
    Hect. Fare thee well:
    I would haue beene much more a fresher man,
    3455Had I expected thee: how now my Brother?
    Enter Troylus.
    Troy. Aiax hath tane Æneas; shall it be?
    No, by the flame of yonder glorious heauen,
    He shall not carry him: Ile be tane too,
    3460Or bring him off: Fate heare me what I say;
    I wreake not, though thou end my life to day.
    Enter one in Armour.
    Hect. Stand, stand, thou Greeke,
    Thou art a goodly marke:
    3465No? 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.