Chapter: ACT V. SCENE 1.
The Grecian camp. Before the tent of ACHILLES

Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS

  ACHILLES. I'll heat his blood with Greekish wine to-night,
    Which with my scimitar I'll cool to-morrow.
    Patroclus, let us feast him to the height.
  PATROCLUS. Here comes Thersites.

                   Enter THERSITES

  ACHILLES. How now, thou core of envy!
    Thou crusty batch of nature, what's the news?
  THERSITES. Why, thou picture of what thou seemest, and idol of
    idiot worshippers, here's a letter for thee.
  ACHILLES. From whence, fragment?
  THERSITES. Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy.
  PATROCLUS. Who keeps the tent now?
  THERSITES. The surgeon's box or the patient's wound.
  PATROCLUS. Well said, Adversity! and what needs these tricks?
  THERSITES. Prithee, be silent, boy; I profit not by thy talk; thou
    art said to be Achilles' male varlet.
  PATROCLUS. Male varlet, you rogue! What's that?
  THERSITES. Why, his masculine whore. Now, the rotten diseases of
    the south, the guts-griping ruptures, catarrhs, loads o' gravel
    in the back, lethargies, cold palsies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten
    livers, wheezing lungs, bladders full of imposthume, sciaticas,
    limekilns i' th' palm, incurable bone-ache, and the rivelled fee-
    simple of the tetter, take and take again such preposterous
    discoveries!
  PATROCLUS. Why, thou damnable box of envy, thou, what meanest thou
    to curse thus?
  THERSITES. Do I curse thee?
  PATROCLUS. Why, no, you ruinous butt; you whoreson
    indistinguishable cur, no.
  THERSITES. No! Why art thou, then, exasperate, thou idle immaterial
    skein of sleid silk, thou green sarcenet flap for a sore eye,
    thou tassel of a prodigal's purse, thou? Ah, how the poor world is
    pest'red with such water-flies-diminutives of nature!
  PATROCLUS. Out, gall!
  THERSITES. Finch egg!
  ACHILLES. My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite
    From my great purpose in to-morrow's battle.
    Here is a letter from Queen Hecuba,
    A token from her daughter, my fair love,
    Both taxing me and gaging me to keep
    An oath that I have sworn. I will not break it.
    Fall Greeks; fail fame; honour or go or stay;
    My major vow lies here, this I'll obey.
    Come, come, Thersites, help to trim my tent;
    This night in banqueting must all be spent.
    Away, Patroclus!              Exit with PATROCLUS
  THERSITES. With too much blood and too little brain these two may
    run mad; but, if with too much brain and to little blood they do,
    I'll be a curer of madmen. Here's Agamemnon, an honest fellow
    enough, and one that loves quails, but he has not so much brain
    as ear-wax; and the goodly transformation of Jupiter there, his
    brother, the bull, the primitive statue and oblique memorial of
    cuckolds, a thrifty shoeing-horn in a chain, hanging at his
    brother's leg-to what form but that he is, should wit larded with
    malice, and malice forced with wit, turn him to? To an ass, were
    nothing: he is both ass and ox. To an ox, were nothing: he is both
    ox and ass. To be a dog, a mule, a cat, a fitchew, a toad, a
    lizard, an owl, a put-tock, or a herring without a roe, I would
    not care; but to be Menelaus, I would conspire against destiny.
    Ask me not what I would be, if I were not Thersites; for I care
    not to be the louse of a lazar, so I were not Menelaus. Hey-day!
    sprites and fires!

         Enter HECTOR, TROILUS, AJAX, AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES,
            NESTOR, MENELAUS, and DIOMEDES, with lights

  AGAMEMNON. We go wrong, we go wrong.
  AJAX. No, yonder 'tis;
    There, where we see the lights.
  HECTOR. I trouble you.
  AJAX. No, not a whit.

                    Re-enter ACHILLES

  ULYSSES. Here comes himself to guide you.
  ACHILLES. Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, Princes all.
  AGAMEMNON. So now, fair Prince of Troy, I bid good night;
    Ajax commands the guard to tend on you.
  HECTOR. Thanks, and good night to the Greeks' general.
  MENELAUS. Good night, my lord.
  HECTOR. Good night, sweet Lord Menelaus.
  THERSITES. Sweet draught! 'Sweet' quoth 'a?
    Sweet sink, sweet sewer!
  ACHILLES. Good night and welcome, both at once, to those
    That go or tarry.
  AGAMEMNON. Good night.
                     Exeunt AGAMEMNON and MENELAUS
  ACHILLES. Old Nestor tarries; and you too, Diomed,
    Keep Hector company an hour or two.
  DIOMEDES. I cannot, lord; I have important business,
    The tide whereof is now. Good night, great Hector.
  HECTOR. Give me your hand.
  ULYSSES. [Aside to TROILUS] Follow his torch; he goes to
    Calchas' tent; I'll keep you company.
  TROILUS. Sweet sir, you honour me.
  HECTOR. And so, good night.
                 Exit DIOMEDES; ULYSSES and TROILUS following
  ACHILLES. Come, come, enter my tent.
                            Exeunt all but THERSITES
  THERSITES. That same Diomed's a false-hearted rogue, a most unjust
    knave; I will no more trust him when he leers than I will a
    serpent when he hisses. He will spend his mouth and promise, like
    Brabbler the hound; but when he performs, astronomers foretell
    it: it is prodigious, there will come some change; the sun
    borrows of the moon when Diomed keeps his word. I will rather
    leave to see Hector than not to dog him. They say he keeps a
    Troyan drab, and uses the traitor Calchas' tent. I'll after.
    Nothing but lechery! All incontinent varlets!
Exit





ACT V. SCENE 2.
The Grecian camp. Before CALCHAS' tent

Enter DIOMEDES

  DIOMEDES. What, are you up here, ho? Speak.
  CALCHAS. [Within] Who calls?
  DIOMEDES. Diomed. Calchas, I think. Where's your daughter?
  CALCHAS. [Within] She comes to you.

      Enter TROILUS and ULYSSES, at a distance; after them
                        THERSITES

  ULYSSES. Stand where the torch may not discover us.

                     Enter CRESSIDA

  TROILUS. Cressid comes forth to him.
  DIOMEDES. How now, my charge!
  CRESSIDA. Now, my sweet guardian! Hark, a word with you.
[Whispers]
  TROILUS. Yea, so familiar!
  ULYSSES. She will sing any man at first sight.
  THERSITES. And any man may sing her, if he can take her cliff;
    she's noted.
  DIOMEDES. Will you remember?
  CRESSIDA. Remember? Yes.
  DIOMEDES. Nay, but do, then;
    And let your mind be coupled with your words.
  TROILUS. What shall she remember?
  ULYSSES. List!
  CRESSIDA. Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly.
  THERSITES. Roguery!
  DIOMEDES. Nay, then-
  CRESSIDA. I'll tell you what-
  DIOMEDES. Fo, fo! come, tell a pin; you are a forsworn-
  CRESSIDA. In faith, I cannot. What would you have me do?
  THERSITES. A juggling trick, to be secretly open.
  DIOMEDES. What did you swear you would bestow on me?
  CRESSIDA. I prithee, do not hold me to mine oath;
    Bid me do anything but that, sweet Greek.
  DIOMEDES. Good night.
  TROILUS. Hold, patience!
  ULYSSES. How now, Troyan!
  CRESSIDA. Diomed!
  DIOMEDES. No, no, good night; I'll be your fool no more.
  TROILUS. Thy better must.
  CRESSIDA. Hark! a word in your ear.
  TROILUS. O plague and madness!
  ULYSSES. You are moved, Prince; let us depart, I pray,
    Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself
    To wrathful terms. This place is dangerous;
    The time right deadly; I beseech you, go.
  TROILUS. Behold, I pray you.
  ULYSSES. Nay, good my lord, go off;
    You flow to great distraction; come, my lord.
  TROILUS. I prithee stay.
  ULYSSES. You have not patience; come.
  TROILUS. I pray you, stay; by hell and all hell's torments,
    I will not speak a word.
  DIOMEDES. And so, good night.
  CRESSIDA. Nay, but you part in anger.
  TROILUS. Doth that grieve thee? O withered truth!
  ULYSSES. How now, my lord?
  TROILUS. By Jove, I will be patient.
  CRESSIDA. Guardian! Why, Greek!
  DIOMEDES. Fo, fo! adieu! you palter.
  CRESSIDA. In faith, I do not. Come hither once again.
  ULYSSES. You shake, my lord, at something; will you go?
    You will break out.
  TROILUS. She strokes his cheek.
  ULYSSES. Come, come.
  TROILUS. Nay, stay; by Jove, I will not speak a word:
    There is between my will and all offences
    A guard of patience. Stay a little while.
  THERSITES. How the devil luxury, with his fat rump and potato
    finger, tickles these together! Fry, lechery, fry!
  DIOMEDES. But will you, then?
  CRESSIDA. In faith, I will, lo; never trust me else.
  DIOMEDES. Give me some token for the surety of it.
  CRESSIDA. I'll fetch you one.
Exit
  ULYSSES. You have sworn patience.
  TROILUS. Fear me not, my lord;
    I will not be myself, nor have cognition
    Of what I feel. I am all patience.

                    Re-enter CRESSIDA

  THERSITES. Now the pledge; now, now, now!
  CRESSIDA. Here, Diomed, keep this sleeve.
  TROILUS. O beauty! where is thy faith?
  ULYSSES. My lord!
  TROILUS. I will be patient; outwardly I will.
  CRESSIDA. You look upon that sleeve; behold it well.
    He lov'd me-O false wench!-Give't me again.
  DIOMEDES. Whose was't?
  CRESSIDA. It is no matter, now I ha't again.
    I will not meet with you to-morrow night.
    I prithee, Diomed, visit me no more.
  THERSITES. Now she sharpens. Well said, whetstone.
  DIOMEDES. I shall have it.
  CRESSIDA. What, this?
  DIOMEDES. Ay, that.
  CRESSIDA. O all you gods! O pretty, pretty pledge!
    Thy master now lies thinking on his bed
    Of thee and me, and sighs, and takes my glove,
    And gives memorial dainty kisses to it,
    As I kiss thee. Nay, do not snatch it from me;
    He that takes that doth take my heart withal.
  DIOMEDES. I had your heart before; this follows it.
  TROILUS. I did swear patience.
  CRESSIDA. You shall not have it, Diomed; faith, you shall not;
    I'll give you something else.
  DIOMEDES. I will have this. Whose was it?
  CRESSIDA. It is no matter.
  DIOMEDES. Come, tell me whose it was.
  CRESSIDA. 'Twas one's that lov'd me better than you will.
    But, now you have it, take it.
  DIOMEDES. Whose was it?
  CRESSIDA. By all Diana's waiting women yond,
    And by herself, I will not tell you whose.
  DIOMEDES. To-morrow will I wear it on my helm,
    And grieve his spirit that dares not challenge it.
  TROILUS. Wert thou the devil and wor'st it on thy horn,
    It should be challeng'd.
  CRESSIDA. Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis past; and yet it is not;
    I will not keep my word.
  DIOMEDES. Why, then farewell;
    Thou never shalt mock Diomed again.
  CRESSIDA. You shall not go. One cannot speak a word
    But it straight starts you.
  DIOMEDES. I do not like this fooling.
  THERSITES. Nor I, by Pluto; but that that likes not you
    Pleases me best.
  DIOMEDES. What, shall I come? The hour-
  CRESSIDA. Ay, come-O Jove! Do come. I shall be plagu'd.
  DIOMEDES. Farewell till then.
  CRESSIDA. Good night. I prithee come.     Exit DIOMEDES
    Troilus, farewell! One eye yet looks on thee;
    But with my heart the other eye doth see.
    Ah, poor our sex! this fault in us I find,
    The error of our eye directs our mind.
    What error leads must err; O, then conclude,
    Minds sway'd by eyes are full of turpitude.
Exit
  THERSITES. A proof of strength she could not publish more,
    Unless she said 'My mind is now turn'd whore.'
  ULYSSES. All's done, my lord.
  TROILUS. It is.
  ULYSSES. Why stay we, then?
  TROILUS. To make a recordation to my soul
    Of every syllable that here was spoke.
    But if I tell how these two did coact,
    Shall I not lie in publishing a truth?
    Sith yet there is a credence in my heart,
    An esperance so obstinately strong,
    That doth invert th' attest of eyes and ears;
    As if those organs had deceptious functions
    Created only to calumniate.
    Was Cressid here?
  ULYSSES. I cannot conjure, Troyan.
  TROILUS. She was not, sure.
  ULYSSES. Most sure she was.
  TROILUS. Why, my negation hath no taste of madness.
  ULYSSES. Nor mine, my lord. Cressid was here but now.
  TROILUS. Let it not be believ'd for womanhood.
    Think, we had mothers; do not give advantage
    To stubborn critics, apt, without a theme,
    For depravation, to square the general sex
    By Cressid's rule. Rather think this not Cressid.
  ULYSSES. What hath she done, Prince, that can soil our mothers?
  TROILUS. Nothing at all, unless that this were she.
  THERSITES. Will 'a swagger himself out on's own eyes?
  TROILUS. This she? No; this is Diomed's Cressida.
    If beauty have a soul, this is not she;
    If souls guide vows, if vows be sanctimonies,
    If sanctimony be the god's delight,
    If there be rule in unity itself,
    This was not she. O madness of discourse,
    That cause sets up with and against itself!
    Bifold authority! where reason can revolt
    Without perdition, and loss assume all reason
    Without revolt: this is, and is not, Cressid.
    Within my soul there doth conduce a fight
    Of this strange nature, that a thing inseparate
    Divides more wider than the sky and earth;
    And yet the spacious breadth of this division
    Admits no orifex for a point as subtle
    As Ariachne's broken woof to enter.
    Instance, O instance! strong as Pluto's gates:
    Cressid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven.
    Instance, O instance! strong as heaven itself:
    The bonds of heaven are slipp'd, dissolv'd, and loos'd;
    And with another knot, five-finger-tied,
    The fractions of her faith, orts of her love,
    The fragments, scraps, the bits, and greasy relics
    Of her o'er-eaten faith, are bound to Diomed.
  ULYSSES. May worthy Troilus be half-attach'd
    With that which here his passion doth express?
  TROILUS. Ay, Greek; and that shall be divulged well
    In characters as red as Mars his heart
    Inflam'd with Venus. Never did young man fancy
    With so eternal and so fix'd a soul.
    Hark, Greek: as much as I do Cressid love,
    So much by weight hate I her Diomed.
    That sleeve is mine that he'll bear on his helm;
    Were it a casque compos'd by Vulcan's skill
    My sword should bite it. Not the dreadful spout
    Which shipmen do the hurricano call,
    Constring'd in mass by the almighty sun,
    Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptune's ear
    In his descent than shall my prompted sword
    Falling on Diomed.
  THERSITES. He'll tickle it for his concupy.
  TROILUS. O Cressid! O false Cressid! false, false, false!
    Let all untruths stand by thy stained name,
    And they'll seem glorious.
  ULYSSES. O, contain yourself;
    Your passion draws ears hither.

                       Enter AENEAS

  AENEAS. I have been seeking you this hour, my lord.
    Hector, by this, is arming him in Troy;
    Ajax, your guard, stays to conduct you home.
  TROILUS. Have with you, Prince. My courteous lord, adieu.
    Fairwell, revolted fair!-and, Diomed,
    Stand fast and wear a castle on thy head.
  ULYSSES. I'll bring you to the gates.
  TROILUS. Accept distracted thanks.

            Exeunt TROILUS, AENEAS. and ULYSSES

  THERSITES. Would I could meet that rogue Diomed! I would croak like
    a raven; I would bode, I would bode. Patroclus will give me
    anything for the intelligence of this whore; the parrot will not
    do more for an almond than he for a commodious drab. Lechery,
    lechery! Still wars and lechery! Nothing else holds fashion. A
    burning devil take them!
Exit





ACT V. SCENE 3.
Troy. Before PRIAM'S palace

Enter HECTOR and ANDROMACHE

  ANDROMACHE. When was my lord so much ungently temper'd
    To stop his ears against admonishment?
    Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to-day.
  HECTOR. You train me to offend you; get you in.
    By all the everlasting gods, I'll go.
  ANDROMACHE. My dreams will, sure, prove ominous to the day.
  HECTOR. No more, I say.

                    Enter CASSANDRA

  CASSANDRA. Where is my brother Hector?
  ANDROMACHE. Here, sister, arm'd, and bloody in intent.
    Consort with me in loud and dear petition,
    Pursue we him on knees; for I have dreamt
    Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night
    Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter.
  CASSANDRA. O, 'tis true!
  HECTOR. Ho! bid my trumpet sound.
  CASSANDRA. No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet brother!
  HECTOR. Be gone, I say. The gods have heard me swear.
  CASSANDRA. The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows;
    They are polluted off'rings, more abhorr'd
    Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.
  ANDROMACHE. O, be persuaded! Do not count it holy
    To hurt by being just. It is as lawful,
    For we would give much, to use violent thefts
    And rob in the behalf of charity.
  CASSANDRA. It is the purpose that makes strong the vow;
    But vows to every purpose must not hold.
    Unarm, sweet Hector.
  HECTOR. Hold you still, I say.
    Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate.
    Life every man holds dear; but the dear man
    Holds honour far more precious dear than life.

                      Enter TROILUS

    How now, young man! Mean'st thou to fight to-day?
  ANDROMACHE. Cassandra, call my father to persuade.
                                 Exit CASSANDRA
  HECTOR. No, faith, young Troilus; doff thy harness, youth;
    I am to-day i' th' vein of chivalry.
    Let grow thy sinews till their knots be strong,
    And tempt not yet the brushes of the war.
    Unarm thee, go; and doubt thou not, brave boy,
    I'll stand to-day for thee and me and Troy.
  TROILUS. Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you
    Which better fits a lion than a man.
  HECTOR. What vice is that, good Troilus?
    Chide me for it.
  TROILUS. When many times the captive Grecian falls,
    Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword,
    You bid them rise and live.
  HECTOR. O, 'tis fair play!
  TROILUS. Fool's play, by heaven, Hector.
  HECTOR. How now! how now!
  TROILUS. For th' love of all the gods,
    Let's leave the hermit Pity with our mother;
    And when we have our armours buckled on,
    The venom'd vengeance ride upon our swords,
    Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth!
  HECTOR. Fie, savage, fie!
  TROILUS. Hector, then 'tis wars.
  HECTOR. Troilus, I would not have you fight to-day.
  TROILUS. Who should withhold me?
    Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars
    Beck'ning with fiery truncheon my retire;
    Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees,
    Their eyes o'ergalled with recourse of tears;
    Nor you, my brother, with your true sword drawn,
    Oppos'd to hinder me, should stop my way,
    But by my ruin.

              Re-enter CASSANDRA, with PRIAM

  CASSANDRA. Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him fast;
    He is thy crutch; now if thou lose thy stay,
    Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee,
    Fall all together.
  PRIAM. Come, Hector, come, go back.
    Thy wife hath dreamt; thy mother hath had visions;
    Cassandra doth foresee; and I myself
    Am like a prophet suddenly enrapt
    To tell thee that this day is ominous.
    Therefore, come back.
  HECTOR. Aeneas is a-field;
    And I do stand engag'd to many Greeks,
    Even in the faith of valour, to appear
    This morning to them.
  PRIAM. Ay, but thou shalt not go.
  HECTOR. I must not break my faith.
    You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sir,
    Let me not shame respect; but give me leave
    To take that course by your consent and voice
    Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam.
  CASSANDRA. O Priam, yield not to him!
  ANDROMACHE. Do not, dear father.
  HECTOR. Andromache, I am offended with you.
    Upon the love you bear me, get you in.
                                     Exit ANDROMACHE
  TROILUS. This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl
    Makes all these bodements.
  CASSANDRA. O, farewell, dear Hector!
    Look how thou diest. Look how thy eye turns pale.
    Look how thy wounds do bleed at many vents.
    Hark how Troy roars; how Hecuba cries out;
    How poor Andromache shrills her dolours forth;
    Behold distraction, frenzy, and amazement,
    Like witless antics, one another meet,
    And all cry, Hector! Hector's dead! O Hector!
  TROILUS. Away, away!
  CASSANDRA. Farewell!-yet, soft! Hector, I take my leave.
    Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive.
Exit
  HECTOR. You are amaz'd, my liege, at her exclaim.
    Go in, and cheer the town; we'll forth, and fight,
    Do deeds worth praise and tell you them at night.
  PRIAM. Farewell. The gods with safety stand about thee!
                           Exeunt severally PRIAM and HECTOR.
Alarums
  TROILUS. They are at it, hark! Proud Diomed, believe,
    I come to lose my arm or win my sleeve.

                     Enter PANDARUS

  PANDARUS. Do you hear, my lord? Do you hear?
  TROILUS. What now?
  PANDARUS. Here's a letter come from yond poor girl.
  TROILUS. Let me read.
  PANDARUS. A whoreson tisick, a whoreson rascally tisick so troubles
    me, and the foolish fortune of this girl, and what one thing,
    what another, that I shall leave you one o' th's days; and I have
    a rheum in mine eyes too, and such an ache in my bones that
    unless a man were curs'd I cannot tell what to think on't. What
    says she there?
  TROILUS. Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart;
    Th' effect doth operate another way.
                                      [Tearing the letter]
    Go, wind, to wind, there turn and change together.
    My love with words and errors still she feeds,
    But edifies another with her deeds.   Exeunt severally





ACT V. SCENE 4.
The plain between Troy and the Grecian camp

Enter THERSITES. Excursions

  THERSITES. Now they are clapper-clawing one another; I'll go look
    on. That dissembling abominable varlet, Diomed, has got that same
    scurvy doting foolish young knave's sleeve of Troy there in his
    helm. I would fain see them meet, that that same young Troyan ass
    that loves the whore there might send that Greekish whoremasterly
    villain with the sleeve back to the dissembling luxurious drab of
    a sleeve-less errand. A th' t'other side, the policy of those
    crafty swearing rascals-that stale old mouse-eaten dry cheese,
    Nestor, and that same dog-fox, Ulysses -is not prov'd worth a
    blackberry. They set me up, in policy, that mongrel cur, Ajax,
    against that dog of as bad a kind, Achilles; and now is the cur,
    Ajax prouder than the cur Achilles, and will not arm to-day;
    whereupon the Grecians begin to proclaim barbarism, and policy
    grows into an ill opinion.

             Enter DIOMEDES, TROILUS following

    Soft! here comes sleeve, and t'other.
  TROILUS. Fly not; for shouldst thou take the river Styx
    I would swim after.
  DIOMEDES. Thou dost miscall retire.
    I do not fly; but advantageous care
    Withdrew me from the odds of multitude.
    Have at thee.
  THERSITES. Hold thy whore, Grecian; now for thy whore,
    Troyan-now the sleeve, now the sleeve!
                   Exeunt TROILUS and DIOMEDES fighting

                        Enter HECTOR

  HECTOR. What art thou, Greek? Art thou for Hector's match?
    Art thou of blood and honour?
  THERSITES. No, no-I am a rascal; a scurvy railing knave; a very
    filthy rogue.
  HECTOR. I do believe thee. Live.
Exit
  THERSITES. God-a-mercy, that thou wilt believe me; but a plague
    break thy neck for frighting me! What's become of the wenching
    rogues? I think they have swallowed one another. I would laugh at
    that miracle. Yet, in a sort, lechery eats itself. I'll seek
    them.
Exit





ACT V. SCENE 5.
Another part of the plain

Enter DIOMEDES and A SERVANT

  DIOMEDES. Go, go, my servant, take thou Troilus' horse;
    Present the fair steed to my lady Cressid.
    Fellow, commend my service to her beauty;
    Tell her I have chastis'd the amorous Troyan,
    And am her knight by proof.
  SERVANT. I go, my lord.
Exit

                       Enter AGAMEMNON

  AGAMEMNON. Renew, renew! The fierce Polydamus
    Hath beat down enon; 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;
    Amphimacus 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.

                        Enter NESTOR

  NESTOR. 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,
    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.
    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 call'd impossibility.

                       Enter ULYSSES

  ULYSSES. O, courage, 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, 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
    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
  DIOMEDES. Ay, there, there.
  NESTOR. So, so, we draw together.
Exit
                      Enter ACHILLES

  ACHILLES. Where is this Hector?
    Come, come, thou boy-queller, show thy face;
    Know what it is to meet Achilles angry.
    Hector! where's Hector? I will none but Hector.
Exeunt





ACT V. SCENE 6.
Another part of the plain

Enter AJAX

  AJAX. Troilus, thou coward Troilus, show thy head.

                     Enter DIOMEDES

  DIOMEDES. Troilus, I say! Where's Troilus?
  AJAX. What wouldst thou?
  DIOMEDES. I would correct him.
  AJAX. Were I the general, thou shouldst have my office
    Ere that correction. Troilus, I say! What, Troilus!

                      Enter TROILUS

  TROILUS. O traitor Diomed! Turn thy false face, thou traitor,
    And pay thy life thou owest me for my horse.
  DIOMEDES. Ha! art thou there?
  AJAX. I'll fight with him alone. Stand, Diomed.
  DIOMEDES. He is my prize. I will not look upon.
  TROILUS. Come, both, you cogging Greeks; have at you
                                     Exeunt fighting

                      Enter HECTOR

  HECTOR. Yea, Troilus? O, well fought, my youngest brother!

                     Enter ACHILLES

  ACHILLES. Now do I see thee, ha! Have at thee, Hector!
  HECTOR. Pause, if thou wilt.
  ACHILLES. I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Troyan.
    Be happy that my arms are out of use;
    My rest and negligence befriends thee now,
    But thou anon shalt hear of me again;
    Till when, go seek thy fortune.
Exit
  HECTOR. Fare thee well.
    I would have been much more a fresher man,
    Had I expected thee.

                     Re-enter TROILUS

    How now, my brother!
  TROILUS. Ajax hath ta'en Aeneas. Shall it be?
    No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven,
    He shall not carry him; I'll be ta'en too,
    Or bring him off. Fate, hear me what I say:
    I reck not though thou end my life to-day.
Exit

                    Enter one in armour

  HECTOR. Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou art a goodly mark.
    No? wilt thou not? I like thy armour well;
    I'll frush it and unlock the rivets all
    But I'll be master of it. Wilt thou not, beast, abide?
    Why then, fly on; I'll hunt thee for thy hide.
Exeunt





ACT V. SCENE 7.
Another part of the plain

Enter ACHILLES, with Myrmidons

  ACHILLES. Come here about me, you my Myrmidons;
    Mark what I say. Attend me where I wheel;
    Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath;
    And when I have the bloody Hector found,
    Empale him with your weapons round about;
    In fellest manner execute your arms.
    Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye.
    It is decreed Hector the great must die.
Exeunt

      Enter MENELAUS and PARIS, fighting; then THERSITES

  THERSITES. The cuckold and the cuckold-maker are at it. Now, bull!
    now, dog! 'Loo, Paris, 'loo! now my double-horn'd Spartan! 'loo,
    Paris, 'loo! The bull has the game. Ware horns, ho!
                        Exeunt PARIS and MENELAUS

                      Enter MARGARELON

  MARGARELON. Turn, slave, and fight.
  THERSITES. What art thou?
  MARGARELON. A bastard son of Priam's.
  THERSITES. I am a bastard too; I love bastards. I am a bastard
    begot, bastard instructed, bastard in mind, bastard in valour, in
    everything illegitimate. One bear will not bite another, and
    wherefore should one bastard? Take heed, the quarrel's most
    ominous to us: if the son of a whore fight for a whore, he tempts
    judgment. Farewell, bastard.
      Exit
  MARGARELON. The devil take thee, coward!
Exit





ACT V. SCENE 8.
Another part of the plain

Enter HECTOR

  HECTOR. Most putrified core so fair without,
    Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life.
    Now is my day's work done; I'll take good breath:
    Rest, sword; thou hast thy fill of blood and death!
 [Disarms]

              Enter ACHILLES and his Myrmidons

  ACHILLES. Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set;
    How ugly night comes breathing at his heels;
    Even with the vail and dark'ning of the sun,
    To close the day up, Hector's life is done.
  HECTOR. I am unarm'd; forego this vantage, Greek.
  ACHILLES. Strike, fellows, strike; this is the man I seek.
                                        [HECTOR falls]
    So, Ilion, fall thou next! Come, Troy, sink down;
    Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone.
    On, Myrmidons, and cry you an amain
    'Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.'
                                 [A retreat sounded]
    Hark! a retire upon our Grecian part.
  MYRMIDON. The Troyan trumpets sound the like, my lord.
  ACHILLES. The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the earth
    And, stickler-like, the armies separates.
    My half-supp'd sword, that frankly would have fed,
    Pleas'd with this dainty bait, thus goes to bed.
                                    [Sheathes his sword]
    Come, tie his body to my horse's tail;
    Along the field I will the Troyan trail.
Exeunt





ACT V. SCENE 9.
Another part of the plain

Sound retreat. Shout. Enter AGAMEMNON, AJAX, MENELAUS, NESTOR,
DIOMEDES, and the rest, marching

  AGAMEMNON. Hark! hark! what shout is this?
  NESTOR. Peace, drums!
  SOLDIERS. [Within] Achilles! Achilles! Hector's slain. Achilles!
  DIOMEDES. The bruit is Hector's slain, and by Achilles.
  AJAX. If it be so, yet bragless let it be;
    Great Hector was as good a man as he.
  AGAMEMNON. March patiently along. Let one be sent
    To pray Achilles see us at our tent.
    If in his death the gods have us befriended;
    Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are ended.
    Exeunt





ACT V. SCENE 10.
Another part of the plain

Enter AENEAS, PARIS, ANTENOR, and DEIPHOBUS

  AENEAS. Stand, ho! yet are we masters of the field.
    Never go home; here starve we out the night.

                         Enter TROILUS

  TROILUS. Hector is slain.
  ALL. Hector! The gods forbid!
  TROILUS. He's dead, and at the murderer's horse's tail,
    In beastly sort, dragg'd through the shameful field.
    Frown on, you heavens, effect your rage with speed.
    Sit, gods, upon your thrones, and smile at Troy.
    I say at once let your brief plagues be mercy,
    And linger not our sure destructions on.
  AENEAS. My lord, you do discomfort all the host.
  TROILUS. You understand me not that tell me so.
    I do not speak of flight, of fear of death,
    But dare all imminence that gods and men
    Address their dangers in. Hector is gone.
    Who shall tell Priam so, or Hecuba?
    Let him that will a screech-owl aye be call'd
    Go in to Troy, and say there 'Hector's dead.'
    There is a word will Priam turn to stone;
    Make wells and Niobes of the maids and wives,
    Cold statues of the youth; and, in a word,
    Scare Troy out of itself. But, march away;
    Hector is dead; there is no more to say.
    Stay yet. You vile abominable tents,
    Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian plains,
    Let Titan rise as early as he dare,
    I'll through and through you. And, thou great-siz'd coward,
    No space of earth shall sunder our two hates;
    I'll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still,
    That mouldeth goblins swift as frenzy's thoughts.
    Strike a free march to Troy. With comfort go;
    Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe.

                        Enter PANDARUS

  PANDARUS. But hear you, hear you!
  TROILUS. Hence, broker-lackey. Ignominy and shame
    Pursue thy life and live aye with thy name!
                               Exeunt all but PANDARUS
  PANDARUS. A goodly medicine for my aching bones! world! world! thus
    is the poor agent despis'd! traitors and bawds, how earnestly are
    you set a work, and how ill requited! Why should our endeavour be
    so lov'd, and the performance so loathed? What verse for it? What
    instance for it? Let me see-

          Full merrily the humble-bee doth sing
          Till he hath lost his honey and his sting;
          And being once subdu'd in armed trail,
          Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail.

    Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted
    cloths. As many as be here of pander's hall,
    Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar's fall;
    Or, if you cannot weep, yet give some groans,
    Though not for me, yet for your aching bones.
    Brethren and sisters of the hold-door trade,
    Some two months hence my will shall here be made.
    It should be now, but that my fear is this,
    Some galled goose of Winchester would hiss.
    Till then I'll sweat and seek about for eases,
    And at that time bequeath you my diseases.
Exit


THE END

 Thersites enters with a letter for Achilles. While Achilles reads the missive, Patroclus tries to engage Thersites in banter, only to find the misanthrope even more spiteful than usual towards him . Achilles, having finished the letter, announces that it is from Queen Hecuba, charging him to fulfill an oath he made to marry the Queen's daughter, Polyxena. Achilles then turns his attention to the feast at hand, which he is holding in his tent. Thersites, alone on the stage, unleashes his usual venomous gall, foremost upon Menelaus. The Trojans, having imbibed hardily, are escorted from Achilles' tent and back to their city. Meanwhile, as per his promise, Ulysses and Troilus slip away to Calchas' tent, where Diomedes is already heading. Thersites, overhearing Troilus' plan to see his beloved, declares that Cressida is as much a false-hearted "drab" as anyone. He determines to follow after and see the lechery unfold. At Calchas' tent, Cressida and Diomedes meet while Ulysses, Troilus and Thersites watch. It quickly becomes apparent that there is predetermined business between Diomedes and Cressida. Diomedes desires Cressida to spend the night with him, and though Cressida is not immediately encouraging in that respect, she nevertheless fails to dissuade his affections. Troilus cannot believe his eyes and ears; Ulysses, alarmed that Troilus' grief and rage will betray his presence in the Greek camp, reminds Troilus that he promised not to speak, only to watch. Cressida's flirtatiousness continues; she even gives Diomedes the sleeve that Troilus had given her. In a moment of repentance she snatches it back from him, but then Diomedes takes it from her. He swears that he will wear the sleeve on his helm the following day at battle so that her Trojan lover will be incensed to challenge him. Upon parting, Cressida promises to see him later that night. To call Troilus devastated is an understatement of his grief. When Cressida goes back into Calchas' house, Troilus declares that he did not see her just now. In an intense display of denial, he separates "Diomed's Cressida" from his own. Troilus thus saves his own love for Cressida while declaring with rancor his hatred for Diomedes, whom he announces he will meet the next day in battle. Aeneas interrupts Troilus to tell him that Hector is already arming himself for the next day's battle. Troilus returns to Troy, and Thersites gets the last word in the scene: "Lechery, lechery, still wars and lechery." Back in Troy, Andromache and Cassandra both attempt to dissuade Hector from taking the field. Andromache has had foreboding dreams, and Cassandra foresees Hector's death. Hector refuses to listen to them, insisting that his honor binds him to take the field. However, when Troilus shows up with blood boiling, Hector tries to talk his younger brother out of suiting up for battle. Troilus defies his brother's advice, just as Hector defies Andromache, Cassandra, and later Priam. As they prepare for the field Pandarus enters with a letter from Cressida, which Troilus scornfully sets aside. We are then presented with several tableaux from the day's battle. Thersites watches, brimming with cynicism, as Troilus and Diomedes skirmish, until Hector interrupts his voyeurism and Thersites shows his cowardice. Diomedes claims to have bested Troilus in the field and tells his servant to relay this news to Cressida. Meanwhile Agamemnon enters to say that the Trojans are rallying; Nestor comes with a testament to this news, leading a throng of soldiers carrying Patroclus' slain body. He orders the soldiers to bring Patroclus' body to Achilles, to spur him into battle, and also to spur Ajax onto the field. Ajax enters, and he and Diomedes call for Troilus. Although outnumbered two to one, Troilus does well against the warriors. Meanwhile, inspired by his rage over the death of Patroclus, Achilles goes after Hector. Hector, for his part, sees a Greek with armor that he wants for his own; he chases the Greek offstage. Achilles gathers his troops, the Myrmidons, and declares that they should encircle Hector and slaughter him. Hector reenters with the nifty-armored Greek, now slain, and the Myrmidons jump him. He declares that he is unarmed, which doesn't bother Achilles or his men; they slaughter him nonetheless. Achilles orders the Myrmidons to declare that Achilles alone killed Hector; he decides to drag the slain Trojan through the battlefield behind his horse. News of Hector's death reaches both the Trojans and the Greeks. Upon hearing about it, Troilus first despairs, then resolves himself to fight the Greeks as brutally as he can and swears to take revenge on the "great-sized coward," Achilles, who slew his brother. Pandarus interrupts this vow, and Troilus dismisses him with a curse. Pandarus remains on stage to deliver the play's final thoughts. He is plagued by symptoms of syphilis, which he alludes to in what must be Shakespeare's most cynical final address to an audience. Pandarus bemoans his fate and the poor reputation of his trade, ever-so-subtly addressing the audience. Thus, with the pathetic diatribe of a diseased man, Shakespeare's play tapers to a close.

