Reference > William Shakespeare > The Oxford Shakespeare > Troilus and Cressida
William Shakespeare (1564–1616).  The Oxford Shakespeare.  1914.
Troilus and Cressida
Act V. Scene V.
Another Part of the Plains.
Enter DIOMEDES and a Servant.
  Dio.  Go, go, my servant, take thou Troilus’ horse;
Present the fair steed to my Lady Cressid:
Fellow, commend my service to her beauty:        5
Tell her I have chastis’d the amorous Trojan,
And am her knight by proof.
  Serv.        I go, my lord.  [Exit.
  Agam.  Renew, renew! The fierce Polydamas        10
Hath beat down Menon; bastard Margarelon
Hath Doreus prisoner,
And stands colossus-wise, waving his beam,
Upon the pashed corses of the kings
Epistrophus and Cedius; Polixenes is slain;        15
Amphimachus, and Thoas, deadly hurt;
Patroclus ta’en, or slain; and Palamedes
Sore hurt and bruis’d; the dreadful Sagittary
Appals our numbers: haste we, Diomed,
To reinforcement, or we perish all.        20
  Nest.  Go, bear Patroclus’ body to Achilles;
And bid the snail-pac’d Ajax arm for shame.
There is a thousand Hectors in the field:
Now here he fights on Galathe his horse,        25
And there lacks work; anon he’s there afoot,
And there they fly or die, like scaled sculls
Before the belching whale; then is he yonder,
And there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge,
Fall down before him, like the mower’s swath:        30
Here, there, and everywhere, he leaves and takes,
Dexterity so obeying appetite
That what he will he does; and does so much
That proof is called impossibility.
  Ulyss.  O! courage, courage, princes; great Achilles
Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance:
Patroclus’ wounds have rous’d his drowsy blood,
Together with his mangled Myrmidons,
That noseless, handless, hack’d and chipp’d, come to him,        40
Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend,
And foams at mouth, and he is arm’d and at it,
Roaring for Troilus, who hath done to-day
Mad and fantastic execution,
Engaging and redeeming of himself        45
With such a careless force and forceless care
As if that luck, in very spite of cunning,
Bade him win all.
Enter AJAX.
  Ajax.  Troilus! thou coward Troilus!  [Exit.        50
  Dio.        Ay, there, there.
  Nest.  So, so, we draw together.
  Achil.        Where is this Hector?
Come, come, thou boy-queller, show thy face;        55
Know what it is to meet Achilles angry:
Hector! where’s Hector? I will none but Hector.  [Exeunt.

Shakespeare · Bible · Strunk · Anatomy · Nonfiction · Quotations · Reference · Fiction · Poetry
© 1993–2015 · [Top 150] · Subjects · Titles · Authors · World Lit.