Troilus and Cressida

Another Part of the Plains.
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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:
Tell her I have chastis'd the amorous Trojan,
And am her knight by proof.
Serv. I go, my lord. [Exit.
Enter AGAMEMNON.
Agam. Renew, renew! The fierce Polydamas
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;
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.
Enter NESTOR.
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,
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 called impossibility.
Enter ULYSSES.
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,
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.
Dio. Ay, there, there.
Nest. So, so, we draw together.
Enter ACHILLES.
Achil. 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.
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