Troilus and Cressida
Act V, Scene 5
Another part of the plains.
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Enter Diomedes and his Servant.
Diomedes
1 - 5
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Go, go, my servant, take thou Troilus’ horse,
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Present the fair steed to my lady Cressid.
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Fellow, commend my service to her beauty;
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Tell her I have chastis’d the amorous Troyan,
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And am her knight by proof.
Diomedes’s Servant
6
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I go, my lord.
Agamemnon
7 - 17
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Renew, renew! The fierce Polydamas
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Hath beat down Menon; bastard Margarelon
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Hath Doreus prisoner,
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And stands Colossus-wise, waving his beam,
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Upon the pashed corses of the kings
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Epistrophus and Cedius; Polyxenes is slain,
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Amphimachus and Thoas deadly hurt,
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Patroclus ta’en or slain, and Palamedes
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Sore hurt and bruised. The dreadful Sagittary
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Appalls our numbers. Haste we, Diomed,
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To reinforcement, or we perish all.
Nestor
18 - 30
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Go bear Patroclus’ body to Achilles,
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And bid the snail-pac’d Ajax arm for shame.
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There is a thousand Hectors in the field:
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Now here he fights on Galathe his horse,
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And there lacks work; anon he’s there afoot,
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And there they fly or die, like scaling sculls
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Before the belching whale; then is he yonder,
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And there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge,
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Fall down before him like a mower’s swath.
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Here, there, and every where, he leaves and takes,
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Dexterity so obeying appetite
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That what he will he does, and does so much
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That proof is call’d impossibility.
Ulysses
31 - 43
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O, courage, courage, princes! Great Achilles
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Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance.
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Patroclus’ wounds have rous’d his drowsy blood,
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Together with his mangled Myrmidons,
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That noseless, handless, hack’d and chipp’d, come to him,
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Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend,
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And foams at mouth, and he is arm’d and at it,
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Roaring for Troilus, who hath done today
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Mad and fantastic execution,
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Engaging and redeeming of himself
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With such a careless force, and forceless care,
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As if that luck, in very spite of cunning,
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Bade him win all.
Ajax
44
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Troilus, thou coward Troilus!
Diomedes
45
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Ay, there, there.
Nestor
46
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So, so, we draw together.
Achilles
47 - 50
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Where is this Hector?
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Come, come, thou boy-queller, show thy face,
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Know what it is to meet Achilles angry.
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Hector, where’s Hector? I will none but Hector.
