Original
Modern English
What, are you up here, ho? speak.
What’s going on, are you awake? Speak up.
[Within] Who calls?
[Within] Who’s calling?
Calchas, I think. Where’s your daughter?
Calchas, I think. Where’s your daughter?
[Within] She comes to you.
[Offstage] She’s coming to you.
Stand where the torch may not discover us.
Stay where the light can’t spot us.
Cressid comes forth to him.
Cressid is coming out to him.
How now, my charge!
What’s up, my charge?
Now, my sweet guardian! Hark, a word with you.
Hey, my sweet protector! Listen, I need to talk to you.
Yea, so familiar!
Yeah, that’s really familiar!
She will sing any man at first sight.
She’ll flirt with any guy the first time she sees him.
And any man may sing her, if he can take her cliff; she’s noted.
And any guy can flirt with her if he can get her attention; she’s well known for it.
Will you remember?
Will you remember?
Remember! yes.
Remember? Yes.
Nay, but do, then; And let your mind be coupled with your words.
No, really, remember; And make sure your thoughts match your words.
What should she remember?
What is it that she needs to remember?
List.
Listen.
Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly.
Sweet honey Greek, stop trying to get me to act foolish.
Roguery!
That’s cheating!
Nay, then,--
Oh, really,--
I’ll tell you what,--
Let me tell you something,--
Foh, foh! come, tell a pin: you are forsworn.
Ugh, enough! Just say it: you’ve broken your promise.
In faith, I cannot: what would you have me do?
Honestly, I can’t: what do you want me to do?
A juggling trick,--to be secretly open.
A trickster’s move,--acting like you’re being honest while being sneaky.
What did you swear you would bestow on me?
What did you promise you’d give me?
I prithee, do not hold me to mine oath; Bid me do any thing but that, sweet Greek.
Please, don’t hold me to my promise; Ask me to do anything but that, sweet Greek.
Good night.
Good night.
Hold, patience!
Wait, patience!
How now, Trojan!
What’s going on, Trojan?
Diomed,--
Diomed,--
No, no, good night: I’ll be your fool no more.
No, no, good night: I won’t be your fool anymore.
Thy better must.
Your better self should.
Hark, one word in your ear.
Listen, one word in your ear.
O plague and madness!
Damnation and madness!
You are moved, prince; let us depart, I pray you, Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself To wrathful terms: this place is dangerous; The time right deadly; I beseech you, go.
You’re upset, prince; let’s leave, please, Before your anger grows worse And turns into something violent: this place is unsafe; The time is dangerous; please, let’s go.
Behold, I pray you!
Look, please!
Nay, good my lord, go off: You flow to great distraction; come, my lord.
No, please, my lord, leave: You’re getting more and more upset; come, my lord.
I pray thee, stay.
Please, stay.
You have not patience; come.
You don’t have the patience; come on.
I pray you, stay; by hell and all hell’s torments I will not speak a word!
Please stay; by hell and all its torments, I swear I won’t say a word!
And so, good night.
Well then, good night.
Nay, but you part in anger.
No, but you’re leaving angry.
Doth that grieve thee? O wither’d truth!
Does that upset you? Oh, withered truth!
Why, how now, lord!
What’s wrong now, lord?
By Jove, I will be patient.
By Jove, I’ll be patient.
Guardian!--why, Greek!
Guardian!—why, Greek!
Foh, foh! adieu; you palter.
Ugh, ugh! goodbye; you’re being dishonest.
In faith, I do not: come hither once again.
Honestly, I’m not: come here once more.
You shake, my lord, at something: will you go? You will break out.
You’re trembling, my lord, at something: will you leave? You’re about to lose control.
She strokes his cheek!
She touches his face!
Come, come.
Come on, come on.
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.
No, wait; by God, I won’t say a word: There’s a wall of patience between my will and all wrongs Stay for a moment.
How the devil Luxury, with his fat rump and potato-finger, tickles these together! Fry, lechery, fry!
Damn it, how Luxury, with his fat ass and stubby fingers, brings these two together! Burn, lust, burn!
But will you, then?
But will you, then?
In faith, I will, la; never trust me else.
Honestly, I will, trust me; don’t believe me if I don’t.
Give me some token for the surety of it.
Give me some proof to be sure.
I’ll fetch you one.
I’ll get you something.
You have sworn patience.
You’ve sworn to be patient.
Fear me not, sweet lord; I will not be myself, nor have cognition Of what I feel: I am all patience.
Don’t worry about me, my lord; I won’t be myself, or even recognize What I’m feeling: I am all patience.
Now the pledge; now, now, now!
Now the token; now, now, now!
Here, Diomed, keep this sleeve.
Here, Diomed, take this sleeve.
O beauty! where is thy faith?
Oh beauty! where is your loyalty?
My lord,--
My lord,--
I will be patient; outwardly I will.
I’ll be patient; on the outside, I will.
You look upon that sleeve; behold it well. He loved me--O false wench!--Give’t me again.
You’re looking at that sleeve; look at it carefully. He loved me--Oh, you deceitful woman!--Give it back to me.
Whose was’t?
Whose was it?
It is no matter, now I have’t again. I will not meet with you to-morrow night: I prithee, Diomed, visit me no more.
It doesn’t matter, now I have it back. I won’t meet you tomorrow night: Please, Diomed, don’t visit me again.
Now she sharpens: well said, whetstone!
Now she’s getting tough: well said, sharpening stone!
I shall have it.
I’ll take it.
What, this?
What, this?
Ay, that.
Yes, that.
O, all you gods! O pretty, pretty pledge! Thy master now lies thinking in 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.
Oh, all you gods! Oh, what a lovely, lovely token! Your master is now lying in his bed Thinking about you and me, sighing, and taking my glove, And giving it soft, sweet kisses, As I kiss you. No, don’t snatch it from me; Whoever takes that also takes my heart.
I had your heart before, this follows it.
I already had your heart, this just follows it.
I did swear patience.
I swore to be patient.
You shall not have it, Diomed; faith, you shall not; I’ll give you something else.
You won’t get it, Diomed; I swear, you won’t; I’ll give you something else.
I will have this: whose was it?
I’ll take this: whose was it?
It is no matter.
It doesn’t matter.
Come, tell me whose it was.
Come on, tell me whose it was.
’Twas one’s that loved me better than you will. But, now you have it, take it.
It was someone who loved me more than you ever will. But now you have it, take it.
Whose was it?
Whose is this?
By all Diana’s waiting-women yond, And by herself, I will not tell you whose.
By all of Diana’s maidens over there, And by herself, I won’t tell you whose it is.
To-morrow will I wear it on my helm, And grieve his spirit that dares not challenge it.
Tomorrow, I’ll wear it on my helmet, And I’ll make him regret he didn’t challenge me for it.
Wert thou the devil, and worest it on thy horn, It should be challenged.
If you were the devil and wore it on your horn, I would still challenge you for it.
Well, well, ’tis done, ’tis past: and yet it is not; I will not keep my word.
Well, well, it’s done, it’s over: but then again, it’s not; I won’t keep my promise.
Why, then, farewell; Thou never shalt mock Diomed again.
Well, goodbye then; You’ll never mock me again.
You shall not go: one cannot speak a word, But it straight starts you.
You’re not leaving: you can’t say anything, Without it making you react immediately.
I do not like this fooling.
I don’t like this teasing.
Nor I, by Pluto: but that that likes not you pleases me best.
Neither do I, by Pluto: but what doesn’t please you, pleases me more.
What, shall I come? the hour?
What, should I come? What time?
Ay, come:--O Jove!--do come:--I shall be plagued.
Yes, come:—Oh, Jove!—do come:—I’ll be in trouble.
Farewell till then.
Goodbye, until then.
Good night: I prithee, come.
Good night: please, do come.
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.
Troilus, goodbye! one eye still looks at you, But with my heart, the other eye sees you. Ah, poor women! this is the flaw we have, The fault in our eyes leads our thoughts: What our eyes mistake, our minds follow; oh, then conclude That minds swayed by looks are full of disgrace.
A proof of strength she could not publish more, Unless she said ’ My mind is now turn’d whore.’
She couldn’t prove her strength more clearly, Unless she said, "Now I’ve turned into a whore."
All’s done, my lord.
It’s all over, my lord.
It is.
It is.
Why stay we, then?
So why are we still here, then?
To make a recordation to my soul Of every syllable that here was spoke. But if I tell how these two did co-act, 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 the attest of eyes and ears, As if those organs had deceptious functions, Created only to calumniate. Was Cressid here?
To keep a record in my heart Of every word that was spoken here. But if I tell how these two worked together, Wouldn’t I be lying by telling the truth? Since there’s still belief in my heart, A hope so stubbornly strong, That it turns what my eyes and ears tell me upside down, As if those senses were meant to deceive, Made only to slander. Was Cressida here?
I cannot conjure, Trojan.
I can’t say for sure, Trojan.
She was not, sure.
She wasn’t, surely.
Most sure she was.
I’m sure she was.
Why, my negation hath no taste of madness.
My denial doesn’t seem crazy.
Nor mine, my lord: Cressid was here but now.
Nor mine, my lord: Cressida was just here.
Let it not be believed 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.
Don’t judge her for being a woman! Remember, we had mothers; don’t let stubborn critics Use Cressida to stereotype all women. Think, instead, that this wasn’t Cressida.
What hath she done, prince, that can soil our mothers?
What has she done, prince, that could shame our mothers?
Nothing at all, unless that this were she.
Nothing at all, unless this really was her.
Will he swagger himself out on’s own eyes?
Is he going to act like he can’t see for himself?
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 gods’ delight, If there be rule in unity itself, This is not she. O madness of discourse, That cause sets up with and against itself! Bi-fold 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, dissolved, and loosed; 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.
This woman? No, this is Diomed’s Cressida: If beauty has a soul, this is not her; If souls guide promises, if promises are sacred, If sanctity is what the gods delight in, If unity itself is a rule, This is not her. Oh, the madness of this argument, This situation creates a conflict within itself! Two-faced authority! where reason can rebel Without consequence, and at the same time, take on all reason Without rebellion: this is, and is not, Cressid. Inside my soul, there is a battle Of this strange kind, that something inseparable Divides more than the sky and earth, And yet, the vastness of this divide Has no opening small enough for a thread as fine As Arachne’s broken web to pass through. Example, oh example! as strong as Pluto’s gates; Cressid is mine, bound by heaven’s own bonds: Example, oh example! as strong as heaven itself; The bonds of heaven have slipped, dissolved, and broken; And with another knot, tied with my fingers, The pieces of her faith, scraps of her love, The fragments, the bits, and the dirty remnants Of her overused faith, are tied to Diomed.
May worthy Troilus be half attach’d With that which here his passion doth express?
Can worthy Troilus be half-affected By what his passion expresses here?
Ay, Greek; and that shall be divulged well In characters as red as Mars his heart Inflamed 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 composed by Vulcan’s skill, My sword should bite it: not the dreadful spout Which shipmen do the hurricano call, Constringed 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.
Yes, Greek; and that shall be revealed clearly In letters as red as Mars’ heart, Fired up by Venus: never did a young man feel With such eternal and fixed determination. Listen, Greek: as much as I love Cressid, I hate Diomed with equal intensity: That sleeve is mine that he’ll wear on his helmet; If it were a helmet made by Vulcan’s skill, My sword would cut through it: not even the terrible storm Which sailors call the hurricane, Constrained by the mighty sun, Will make Neptune’s ear ring louder When it falls than my sword will When it strikes Diomed.
He’ll tickle it for his concupy.
He’ll tease him for his lust.
O Cressid! O false Cressid! false, false, false! Let all untruths stand by thy stained name, And they’ll seem glorious.
Oh Cressid! Oh false Cressid! false, false, false! Let all lies stand next to your ruined name, And they’ll appear glorious.
O, contain yourself Your passion draws ears hither.
Oh, calm yourself Your anger is drawing attention.
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.
I’ve been looking for you this hour, my lord: Hector, by now, is putting on his armor in Troy; Ajax, your guard, is waiting to take you home.
Have with you, prince. My courteous lord, adieu. Farewell, revolted fair! and, Diomed, Stand fast, and wear a castle on thy head!
Let’s go, prince. My respectful lord, goodbye. Farewell, you betrayed beauty! and, Diomed, Stand firm, and wear a fortress on your head!
I’ll bring you to the gates.
I’ll take you to the gates.
Accept distracted thanks.
Accept my confused thanks.
Would I could meet that rogue Diomed! I would croak like a raven; I would bode, I would bode. Patroclus will give me any thing 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!
I wish I could meet that trickster Diomed! I would croak like a raven; I would predict, I would predict. Patroclus would give me anything for the information about this prostitute: the parrot won’t do more for a nut than he would for a useful slut. Lust, lust; always, wars and lust; nothing else is fashionable: a burning devil take them!