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.

I go, my lord.

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;

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.

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.

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 today

Mad and fantastic execution,

Engaging and redeeming of himself

With such a careless force and forceless care

As if that lust, in very spite of cunning,

Bade him win all.

Troilus! thou coward Troilus!

Ay, there, there.

So, so, we draw together.

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.