Troilus and Cressida [with Biographical Introduction]

by William Shakespeare

And hither am I come A prologue arm'd, but not in confidence Of author's pen or actor's voice, but suited In like conditions as our argument, To tell you, fair beholders, that our play Leaps o'er the vaunt and firstlings of those broils, Beginning in the middle; starting thence away, To what may be digested in a play. Like or find fault; do as your pleasures are; Now good or bad, 'tis but the chance of war.

PATROCLUS. Why am I a fool? THERSITES. Make that demand of the Creator. It suffices me thou art.

The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie.

He that is proud eats up himself. Pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle; and whatever praises itself but in the deed devours the deed in the praise.

CRESSIDA. Nor nothing monstrous neither? TROILUS. Nothing, but our undertakings when we vow to weep seas, live in fire, eat rocks, tame tigers; thinking it harder for our mistress to devise imposition enough than for us to undergo any difficulty imposed. This is the monstruosity in love, lady, that the will is infinite, and the execution confin'd; that the desire is boundless, and the act a slave to limit.

TROILUS. What offends you, lady? CRESSIDA. Sir, mine own company. TROILUS. You cannot shun yourself. CRESSIDA. Let me go and try.

Perseverance, dear my lord, Keeps honour bright.