Original
Modern English
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 chastised the amorous Trojan, And am her knight by proof.
Go, go, my servant, take Troilus’ horse; Give the beautiful horse to my lady Cressid: Man, tell her I send my regards to her beauty; Tell her I’ve punished the passionate Trojan, And I’m her knight now by proof.
I go, my lord.
I’m going, 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: Polyxenes is slain, Amphimachus and Thoas deadly hurt, Patroclus ta’en or slain, and Palamedes Sore hurt and bruised: the dreadful Sagittary Appals our numbers: haste we, Diomed, To reinforcement, or we perish all.
Renew, renew! The fierce Polydamas Has defeated Menon: the bastard Margarelon Has captured Doreus, And stands towering, waving his weapon, Over the broken bodies of the kings Epistrophus and Cedius: Polyxenes is dead, Amphimachus and Thoas badly wounded, Patroclus captured or killed, and Palamedes Badly hurt and battered: the terrifying Sagittary Strikes fear into our numbers: hurry, Diomed, To bring reinforcements, or we’ll all be lost.
Go, bear Patroclus’ body to Achilles; And bid the snail-paced 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 every where, he leaves and takes, Dexterity so obeying appetite That what he will he does, and does so much That proof is call’d impossibility.
Go, take Patroclus’ body to Achilles; And tell the slow-moving Ajax to get ready for battle. There are thousands of Hectors in the field: Now he’s fighting on Galathe his horse, And soon he’s on foot; then they either flee or die, like broken skulls Before the roaring whale; then he’s over there, And the weak Greeks, ready for his blade, Fall before him like grass cut by the mower: Everywhere he goes, he both leaves and takes, His skill follows his desires so completely That whatever he wants, he gets, and gets so much That what’s impossible is thought to be achievable.
O, courage, courage, princes! great Achilles Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance: Patroclus’ wounds have roused 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.
Oh, courage, courage, princes! Great Achilles Is getting ready, crying, cursing, swearing revenge: Patroclus’ wounds have stirred his sleepy blood, Along with his broken Myrmidons, Those who have lost their noses, hands, and have been hacked to pieces, are coming to him, Crying out for Hector. Ajax has lost a friend And is foaming at the mouth, and he is armed and ready, Roaring for Troilus, who today has Done crazy and violent things, Fighting and saving himself With such reckless strength and careless strength As if fate, in spite of skill, Wanted him to win everything.
Troilus! thou coward Troilus!
Troilus! You coward Troilus!
Ay, there, there.
Yes, there, there.
So, so, we draw together.
Alright, alright, let’s come 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.
Where is this Hector? Come on, come on, you boy-killer, show your face; Know what it feels like to face an angry Achilles: Hector? Where’s Hector? I want only Hector.