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  • 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
    2415Troy. A hatefull truth.
    Cres. What and from Troylus to?
    Troy. From Troy, and Troylus.
    Cress. Is't possible?
    Troy. And suddenly, where iniury of chance
    2420Puts back, leaue taking, iussles roughly by:
    All time of pause: rudely beguiles our lippes
    Of all reioyndure: forcibly preuents
    Our lock't embrasures, strangles our dere vowes,
    Euen in the birth of our owne laboring breath:
    2425We two that with so many thousand sighes,
    Did buy each other, must poorely sell ourselues:
    With the rude breuity, and discharge of one,
    Iniurious time now with a robbers hast,
    Cram's his ritch theeu'ry vp hee knowes not how.
    2430As many farewells as be starres in heauen.
    With distinct breath, and consignde kisses to them,
    He fumbles vp into a loose adewe:
    And skants vs with a single famisht kisse,
    Distasted with the salt of broken teares.
    2435AEneas within. My Lord is the Lady ready?
    Troy. Harke, you are call'd, some say the Genius
    Cries so to him that instantly must die,
    Bid them haue pacience she shall come anon.
    Pan. Where are my teares raine to lay this winde, or my
    2440heart wilbe blowne vp by my throate.
    Cress. I must then to the Grecians.
    Troy. No remedy?
    Cress. A wofull Cressid 'mongst the merry Greekes,
    When shall we see againe.
    2445Troy. Here mee loue? be thou but true of heart.
    Cres. I true? how now? what wicked deme is this?
    Troy. Nay we must vse expostulation kindely,
    For it is parting from vs.
    I speake not be thou true as fearing thee.
    2450For I will throw my gloue to death himselfe,
    That there is no maculation in thy heart:
    But bee thou true say I to fashion in,