Internet Shakespeare Editions


Jump to line
Help on texts

About this text

  • Title: Troilus and Cressida (Quarto 1, 1609)
  • 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 (Quarto 1, 1609)

    The history
    Pand. Ist possible: no sooner got but lost, the diuell take
    Anthenor, the young Prince will go madde, a plague vpon
    Anthenor. I would they had brok's neck.
    2340 Enter Cress. How now? what's the matter? who was heere?
    Pand. Ah, ah!
    Cres. Why sigh you so profoundly, wher's my Lord? gone?
    tell me sweete Vncle, whats the matter.
    Pan. Would I were as deepe vnder the earth as I am aboue.
    Cres. O the Gods, whats the matter?
    Pand. Pray thee get thee in: would thou hadst nere been
    borne, I knew thou wouldest be his death. O poore Gentle-
    man, a plague vpon Anthenor.
    2350Cres. Good vnckle, I beseech you on my knees, whats the
    Pand. Thou must be gone wench, thou must be gone: thou
    art chang'd for Anthenor. Thou must to thy father and bee
    gone from Troylus, twill be his death, twill bee his bane, hee
    2355cannot beare it.
    Cres. O you immortall Gods, I will not go.
    Pand. Thou must.
    Cres. I will not Vncle. I haue forgot my father,
    I know no touch of consanguinitie,
    2360No kinne, no loue, no bloud, no soule so neere me
    As the sweete Troylus. O you gods diuine,
    Make Cresseids name the very crowne of falsehood,
    If euer she leaue Troylus. Time, force and death,
    Do to this body what extreames you can:
    2365But the strong base, and building of my loue,
    Is as the very center of the earth,
    Drawing all things to it. Ile go in and weepe.
    Pand. Do, do.
    Cres. Teare my bright haire, & scratch my praised cheekes,
    Crack my cleare voyce with sobs, and breake my heart,
    With sounding Troylus: I will not go from Troy.
    Enter Paris, Troyl. Æneas, Deiphob, Anth. Diomedes.
    2375Par. It is great morning, and the houre prefixt,
    For her deliuery to this valiant Greeke,
    Comes fast vpon: good my brother Troylus