The Bodleian First Folio

Reference: 2¶6r - Tragedies, p. [23]

Left Column

Troylus and Cressida. Fall all together. Priam. Come Hector, come, goe backe: Thy wife hath dreampt: thy mother hath had visions; Cassandra doth foresee; and 1 my selfe,

[3175]

Am like a Prophet suddenly enrapt, to tell thee that this day is ominous: Therefore come backe. Hect. Æneas is a field, And I do stand engag'd to many Greekes,

[3180]

Euen in the faith of valour, to appeare This morning to them. Priam.

I, but thou shalt not goe,

Hect. I must not breake my faith: You know me dutifull, therefore deare sir,

[3185]

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. Cass.

O Priam, yeeld not to him.

And.

Doe not deere father.

Hect.

[3190]

Andromache I am offended with you: Vpon the loue you beare me, get you in. Exit Andromache Troy. This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girle, Makes all these bodements. Cass. O farewell, deere Hector:

[3195]

Looke how thou diest; looke how thy eye turnes pale: Looke how thy wounds doth bleede at many vents: Harke how Troy roares; how Hecuba cries out; How poore Andromache shrils her dolour forth; Behold distraction, frenzie, and amazement,

[3200]

Like witlesse Antickes one another meete, And all cry Hector, Hectors dead: O Hector! Troy.

Away, away.

Cas. Farewell: yes, soft: Hector I take my leaue; Thou do'st thy selfe, and all our Troy deceiue. Exit. Hect.

[3205]

You are amaz'd, my Liege, at her exclaime: Goe in and cheere the Towne, weele forth and fight: Doe deedes of praise, and tell you them at night. Priam.

Farewell: the gods with safetie stand about

thee.

Alarum. Troy.

[3210]

They are at it, harke: proud Diomed, beleeue I come to loose my arme, or winne my sleeue. Enter Pandar. Pand.

Doe you heare my Lord? do you heare?

Troy.

What now?

Pand.

Here's a Letter come from yond poore girle.

Troy.

[3215]

Let me reade.

Pand.

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

[3220]

such an ache in my bones; that vnlesse a man were curst,

I 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.

[3225]

Goe 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

[3230]

Pursue thy life, and liue aye with thy name. A Larum Alarum . Exeunt.

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Right Column

[Act 5, Scene 4] Enter Thersites in excursion. Ther.

Now they are clapper‑clawing one another, Ile

goe looke on: that dissembling abhominable varlet. Dio mede , has got that same scuruie, doting, foolish yong

knaues Sleeue of Troy, there in his Helme: I would faine

[3235]

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

luxurious drabbe, of a sleeuelesse errant. O'th'tother side,

the pollicie of those craftie swearing rascals; that stole

[3240]

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

dogge of as bad a kinde, Achilles. And now is the curre

Aiax prouder then the curre Achilles, and will not arme

[3245]

to day. Whereupon, the Grecians began to proclaime

barbarisme; and pollicie growes into an ill opinion.

Enter Diomed and Troylus.

Soft, here comes Sleeue, and th'other.

Troy. Flye not: for should'st thou take the Riuer Stix,

[3250]

I would swim after. Diom. Thou do'st miscall retire: I doe not flye; but aduantagious care Withdrew me from the oddes of multitude: Haue at thee? Ther.

[3255]

Hold thy whore Grecian: now for thy whore Troian: Now the Sleeue, now the Sleeue. Enter Hector. Hect. 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:

[3260]

a very filthy roague.

Hect.

I doe beleeue thee, liue.

Ther.

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

[3265]

swallowed one anoth er. I would laugh at that mira

cle————yet in a fort, lecherie eates it selfe; Ile seeke them.

Exit.

[Act 5, Scene 5] 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;

[3270]

Tell 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

[3275]

Hath Doreus prisoner. And stands Calossus‑wife wauing his beame, Vpon the pashed courses of the Kings: Epistropus and Cedus, Polixines is slaine; Amphimacusand Thous deadly hurt;

[3280]

Patroclus 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. Nest. Coe Goe beare Patroclus body to Achilles,

[3285]

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, And there they flye or dye, like scaled sculs, Before

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[Act 5, Scene 4] Enter Thersites in excursion. Ther.

Now they are clapper‑clawing one another, Ile

goe looke on: that dissembling abhominable varlet. Dio mede , has got that same scuruie, doting, foolish yong

knaues Sleeue of Troy, there in his Helme: I would faine

[3235]

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

luxurious drabbe, of a sleeuelesse errant. O'th'tother side,

the pollicie of those craftie swearing rascals; that stole

[3240]

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

dogge of as bad a kinde, Achilles. And now is the curre

Aiax prouder then the curre Achilles, and will not arme

[3245]

to day. Whereupon, the Grecians began to proclaime

barbarisme; and pollicie growes into an ill opinion.

Enter Diomed and Troylus.

Soft, here comes Sleeue, and th'other.

Troy. Flye not: for should'st thou take the Riuer Stix,

[3250]

I would swim after. Diom. Thou do'st miscall retire: I doe not flye; but aduantagious care Withdrew me from the oddes of multitude: Haue at thee? Ther.

[3255]

Hold thy whore Grecian: now for thy whore Troian: Now the Sleeue, now the Sleeue. Enter Hector. Hect. 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:

[3260]

a very filthy roague.

Hect.

I doe beleeue thee, liue.

Ther.

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

[3265]

swallowed one anoth er. I would laugh at that mira

cle————yet in a fort, lecherie eates it selfe; Ile seeke them.

Exit.

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      <p n="3231">Now they are clapper‑clawing one another, Ile
      <lb n="3232"/>goe looke on: that dissembling abhominable varlet.<hi rend="italic">Dio
      <lb n="3233"/>mede</hi>, has got that same scuruie, doting, foolish yong
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         <hi rend="italic">Aiax</hi>prouder then the curre<hi rend="italic">Achilles</hi>, and will not arme
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         <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Diomed and Troylus.</stage>
         
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      <speaker rend="italic">Troy.</speaker>
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      <speaker rend="italic">Diom.</speaker>
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      <l n="3254">Haue at thee?</l>
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      <speaker rend="italic">Ther.</speaker>
      <l n="3255">Hold thy whore Grecian: now for thy whore</l>
      <l n="3256">Troian: Now the Sleeue, now the Sleeue.</l>
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   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Hector.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-tro-hec">
      <speaker rend="italic">Hect.</speaker>
      <l n="3257">What art thou Greek? art thou for<hi rend="italic">Hectors</hi>match?</l>
      <l n="3258">Art thou of bloud, and honour?</l>
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   <sp who="#F-tro-the">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ther.</speaker>
      <p n="3259">No, no: I am a rascall: a scuruie railing knaue:
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   <sp who="#F-tro-hec">
      <speaker rend="italic">Hect.</speaker>
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      <speaker rend="italic">Ther.</speaker>
      <p n="3262">God a mercy, that thou wilt beleeue me; but a
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   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
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The Bodleian First Folio

A digital facsimile of the First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Bodleian Arch. G c.7.

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Reference: 2¶6r - Tragedies, p. [23]