Internet Shakespeare Editions

Toolbox




Jump to line
Through Line Number
Help on texts
About this text
Print this page

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)

    Troylus and Cressida.
    Fall all together.
    Priam. Come Hector, come, goe backe:
    3270Thy 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.
    3275Hect. AEneas 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,
    3280Hect. 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.
    3285Cass. 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.
    3290Troy. 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:
    3295Harke 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!
    3300Troy. 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:
    3305Doe 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.

    3310Enter 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.
    3315Pand. 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,
    3320I 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.
    3325Goe 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
    3330Pursue thy life, and liue aye with thy name.
    ALarum. Exeunt.

    Enter Thersites in excursion.

    Ther. Now they are clapper-clawing one another, Ile
    goe looke on: that dissembling abhominable varlet Dio-
    3335mede, 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-mai-
    sterly villaine, with the Sleeue, backe to the dissembling
    3340luxurious 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
    3345dogge 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.
    3350Soft, 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
    3355Withdrew 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.
    3360Hect. 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.
    3365Ther. God a mercy, that thou wilt beleeue me; but a
    plague breake thy necke---for frighting me: what's be-
    come of the wenching rogues? I thinke they haue
    swallowed one another. I would laugh at that mira-
    cle----yet in a sort, lecherie eates it selfe: Ile seeke them.
    3370Exit.
    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;
    3375Tell 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
    3380Hath 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;
    3385Patroclus 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.
    3390Nest. 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,
    3395And there they flye or dye, like scaled sculs,
    Before
    About
    Contact us
    Content quality
    Site guide
    © Internet Shakespeare Editions
    Copyright details
    Privacy policy
    This site is supported by:
    University of Victoria
    Friends of the ISE
    SSHRC