Pandarus is attempting to manage the scene's emotion with sentimentality and crude comfort. He cites love poetry, he embraces them, he tries to make sense of the separation. But he cannot hold the moment together. His presence becomes increasingly irrelevant as Troilus and Cressida face the reality of what is happening.
Be moderate, be moderate.
Stay calm, stay calm.
Easy, easy. Just breathe.
chill
Cressida begins by refusing moderation in her grief. But as the scene progresses, she becomes aware of what Troilus is really asking: that she promise fidelity to a man who is about to hand her to enemies. Her responses grow sharper and more wounded. She knows what the promise means.
Why tell you me of moderation?
The grief is fine, full, perfect, that I taste,
And violenteth in a sense as strong
As that which causeth it. How can I moderate it?
If I could temporize with my affections
Or brew it to a weak and colder palate,
The like allayment could I give my grief.
My love admits no qualifying dross;
No more my grief, in such a precious loss.
Why are you talking to me about staying calm? The grief I feel is intense and complete, And it overwhelms my emotions as powerfully As its cause overwhelms me. How can I be calm? If I could soften my feelings Or dilute them to a weaker state of mind, I could ease my grief that way. But my love doesn't accept any lessening; Neither does my grief, facing such a precious loss.
Why are you even talking to me about this? The pain I'm feeling is huge and real, And it crushes me just as much As whatever caused it crushes me. How can I stay calm? If I could somehow water down my feelings Or make them less intense, Then I could handle my grief better. But my love won't let me ease off; And my pain won't either, not with something so important being taken.
cant stay calm pain is huge my love wont let me ease it losing him destroys me
Here, here, here he comes. Ah, sweet ducks!
Here, here, here he comes. Oh, sweet darlings!
Look, look, look, here he comes. Oh my sweet loves!
hes coming oh my sweet ones
[_Embracing him_.] O Troilus! Troilus!
Oh Troilus! Troilus!
Troilus! My Troilus!
troilus
What a pair of spectacles is here! Let me embrace too. ‘O heart,’ as
the goodly saying is,—
O heart, heavy heart,
Why sigh’st thou without breaking?
where he answers again
Because thou canst not ease thy smart
By friendship nor by speaking.
There was never a truer rhyme. Let us cast away nothing, for we may
live to have need of such a verse. We see it, we see it. How now,
lambs!
What a pair of lovers I see! Let me join them too. 'O heart,' as the good saying goes— O heart, heavy heart, Why do you sigh without breaking? where it answers Because you cannot ease your pain By friendship or by speaking. There was never a truer poem. Let's not waste anything, for we may yet need words like that. We see it, we see it. How are things, young lovers!
Look at this couple! Let me get in on this too. 'O heart,' like the saying goes— O heart, sad heart, Why do you just sit there sighing without breaking? where it replies Because you can't fix your pain With friends or talking. There was never a more honest rhyme. Let's save all this stuff, we might need it someday. We see how it is, we see it. How are you two doing!
this couple the saying goes oh heavy heart why sigh without breaking bc friends cant help no truer words
Troilus speaks in the language of apocalypse. His metaphor about time — 'Injurious time now with a robber's haste' — is the play's most beautiful and desperate image. He cannot speak plainly about losing Cressida; his language becomes baroque and broken. When he asks for her promise of fidelity, he is simultaneously expressing faith and doubt.
Cressid, I love thee in so strain’d a purity
That the bless’d gods, as angry with my fancy,
More bright in zeal than the devotion which
Cold lips blow to their deities, take thee from me.
Cressida, I love you with such pure and intense devotion That the blessed gods, as if angry at my passion, Showing more power in their anger than the cold Devotion that lifeless people give to them, Take you from me.
Cressida, I love you so perfectly and so much That the gods themselves seem furious about it, More furious actually than people ever get with their religion, And because of that fury, they're taking you away from me.
cressida i love u so purely even gods are jealous thats why theyre taking u
Have the gods envy?
Do the gods envy?
Gods can feel jealous?
gods get jealous
Ay, ay, ay, ay; ’tis too plain a case.
Yes, yes, yes; it's painfully obvious.
Yeah, yeah, yeah; it's pretty clear.
yep so obvious
And is it true that I must go from Troy?
And is it really true that I must leave Troy?
And I really have to leave Troy? For real?
i really gotta leave
A hateful truth.
A hateful truth.
a hateful truth.
a hateful truth.
What! and from Troilus too?
What! Must I also leave you?
What! I'm leaving you too?
away from u too
From Troy and Troilus.
You're leaving both Troy and me.
Both Troy and Troilus, I'm afraid.
both troy and troilus
Is’t possible?
Is that possible?
Is that really happening?
for real?
And suddenly; where injury of chance
Puts back leave-taking, justles roughly by
All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips
Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents
Our lock’d embrasures, strangles our dear vows
Even in the birth of our own labouring breath.
We two, that with so many thousand sighs
Did buy each other, must poorly sell ourselves
With the rude brevity and discharge of one.
Injurious time now with a robber’s haste
Crams his rich thiev’ry up, he knows not how.
As many farewells as be stars in heaven,
With distinct breath and consign’d kisses to them,
He fumbles up into a loose adieu,
And scants us with a single famish’d kiss,
Distasted with the salt of broken tears.
And suddenly, with sudden cruelty pushing aside any normal goodbye, Roughly shoving past every moment for proper farewells, Rudely stripping us of all the time to say our piece, Forcibly cutting short our final embrace, Strangling our sacred promises Even as we're struggling to speak them. We two, who bought our love from each other With so many thousand sighs, Must now sell ourselves cheaply, In the rough brevity of a single moment. Unfair time, now like a robber in a hurry, Jams his stolen goods into a sack, He doesn't even know how. As many farewells as there are stars in heaven, Each one whispered with careful breaths and marked with kisses, He crams into one loose goodbye, And leaves us with only a single hungry kiss, Tainted by the salt of tears.
And it's happening right now, with this sudden cruelty shoving aside goodbyes, Roughly knocking past every moment we need to say our final words, Rudely stealing all the time for us to communicate, Forcing our last hug to be cut short, Strangling our precious promises Just as we're struggling to voice them. We two, who bought our love from each other With thousands and thousands of sighs, Have to sell ourselves short now, In one brutal quick moment. Cruel time, like a thief in a panic, Stuffs his stolen treasure into a bag any old way, Without even thinking. All the goodbyes there should be, like stars in the sky, Each one spoken slow with careful breaths and sealed with kisses, He squashes into one sloppy goodbye, And leaves us with just a single starving kiss, Dirty with salt from your tears.
time is cruel we bought our love with sighs now selling it cheap in one moment so many goodbyes crammed into one sad kiss tainted with tears
[_Within_.] My lord, is the lady ready?
Is the lady prepared to depart, my lord?
Sir, is the lady prepared to leave?
lady ready
Hark! you are call’d. Some say the Genius
Cries so to him that instantly must die.
Bid them have patience; she shall come anon.
Listen! They're calling you. The guardian spirit Calls that way to someone about to die immediately. Ask them to wait; she will come soon.
Listen! They're calling for you. The spirit That calls people like that is the one calling the dead. Tell them to hang on; she's coming.
theyre calling u like a death spirit ask them to wait
The crucial moment in the scene comes when Troilus demands 'Be thou but true of heart.' Cressida is wounded by this — she hears it as doubt. And she is right. Troilus is about to hand her to Greek soldiers, men of 'quality' and beauty, surrounded by desire. He cannot keep her, so he demands a promise instead. The promise is a form of possession: if he cannot have her body, he will at least have her fidelity. But the tragedy is that fidelity cannot exist under these conditions. Cressida is being asked to be faithful to a man who is giving her away. And within hours (5-2), surrounded by Diomedes' courtship, she will break the promise. The play does not blame her. It shows instead that Troilus's demand was impossible from the start. His love is inseparable from his possessiveness, and his possessiveness ensures his loss.
Where are my tears? Rain, to lay this wind, or my heart will be blown
up by my throat!
Where are my tears? Come rain, to push back this wind, or my heart will come up through my throat!
Where did all my tears go? I need to cry to stop this heartache or my heart will literally come up my throat!
where r my tears my heart is in my throat
I must then to the Grecians?
So I have to go to the Greeks?
So I'm really going to the Greeks?
gotta go to the greeks
No remedy.
No remedy.
no remedy.
no remedy.
A woeful Cressid ’mongst the merry Greeks!
When shall we see again?
A sad Cressida among the happy Greeks! When will we see each other again?
Me, a sad girl stuck with all these happy Greeks! When are we gonna see each other again?
sad me among happy greeks when will i see u again
Hear me, my love. Be thou but true of heart.
Listen to me, my love. Just keep true to your heart.
Listen, my love. Just stay true to me.
stay true to me
I true? How now! What wicked deem is this?
True? How now! What awful thought is this?
True? Wait, what? Why would you say that?
true what dont u trust me
Nay, we must use expostulation kindly,
For it is parting from us.
I speak not ‘Be thou true’ as fearing thee,
For I will throw my glove to Death himself
That there’s no maculation in thy heart;
But ‘Be thou true’ say I to fashion in
My sequent protestation: be thou true,
And I will see thee.
No, we should talk about this gently, Since we're parting. I'm not saying 'Be true' because I doubt you, For I would throw my glove to Death itself And swear there's no stain in your heart. But 'Be true' I say to reinforce What comes after: be true, And I will see you again.
No, we should do this carefully, Since we're splitting up. I'm not saying 'Be true' because I don't believe in you, Because I would literally fight Death itself To prove your heart is clean. But 'Be true' is what I'm saying As a way of saying: stay loyal, And I'll find you again.
not bc i doubt u i would fight death for u just stay true i'll find u
O! you shall be expos’d, my lord, to dangers
As infinite as imminent! But I’ll be true.
Oh! You're going to be exposed to dangers As endless as they are urgent! But I'll be true.
Oh! You're gonna face endless and immediate dangers! But I promise to stay true.
ur in danger but i'll be loyal
And I’ll grow friend with danger. Wear this sleeve.
And I'll make friends with danger. Wear this sleeve.
And I'm fine with danger. Keep this sleeve.
wear this sleeve so u remember me
And you this glove. When shall I see you?
And you take this glove. When will I see you?
And you keep this glove. When can we see each other?
take my glove when can i see u
I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels
To give thee nightly visitation.
But yet be true.
I will bribe the Greek guards to allow me to visit you at night. But remain faithful.
I'll pay off the Greek guards so I can sneak over to visit you at night. Just stay true to me.
i'll bribe the guards come visit you at night stay faithful to me
O heavens! ‘Be true’ again!
Oh heavens! 'Stay true' again!
Oh god! Do you have to keep saying that!
stop telling me to stay true
Hear why I speak it, love.
The Grecian youths are full of quality;
They’re loving, well compos’d, with gifts of nature,
Flowing and swelling o’er with arts and exercise.
How novelty may move, and parts with person,
Alas, a kind of godly jealousy,
Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin,
Makes me afear’d.
Let me tell you why I say it, love. The Greek men are full of charm and talent. They're affectionate, naturally gifted, accomplished, Brimming with and overflowing with wit and practice. How much the appeal of something new and how their gifts matched with their looks Will sway you—alas, a kind of righteous jealousy, Which I ask you to call a virtuous flaw, Makes me afraid.
Let me explain why I keep saying it, love. These Greek guys are charming and talented. They're loving, naturally talented, accomplished, Full of wit and practiced skill. How novelty and their looks and gifts combined will pull you in—alas, it's a kind of moral jealousy, Please call it a virtuous weakness, But it scares me.
greeks r charming talented how novelty and their gifts will pull u in it scares me
O heavens! you love me not!
Oh heavens! You don't love me!
Oh god! You don't really love me!
u dont love me
Die I a villain then!
In this I do not call your faith in question
So mainly as my merit. I cannot sing,
Nor heel the high lavolt, nor sweeten talk,
Nor play at subtle games; fair virtues all,
To which the Grecians are most prompt and pregnant;
But I can tell that in each grace of these
There lurks a still and dumb-discoursive devil
That tempts most cunningly. But be not tempted.
Let me die a villain if that's true! I'm not questioning your faithfulness As much as my own worth. I cannot sing, Nor dance the high lavolt, nor speak smooth compliments, Nor play subtle games—fair talents all, Which the Greeks love and excel at. But I can tell you that in each of these attractive abilities Lies a cunning and silent seducer That tempts most skillfully. Just don't be tempted.
Then may I die a villain! It's not that I don't trust you— It's that I don't trust myself. I can't sing, I can't dance fancy, I can't talk sweet, I can't play clever games—all stuff the Greeks are great at. But here's what I know: hiding inside each of these cool talents Is a sly and sneaky seducer That tempts people really well. Just promise you won't fall for it.
im not good at singing dancing talking games greeks r better at everything but just dont let them seduce u
Do you think I will?
You think I'd be tempted?
Do you really think I'd do that?
u think i would
No.
But something may be done that we will not;
And sometimes we are devils to ourselves,
When we will tempt the frailty of our powers,
Presuming on their changeful potency.
No. But something can happen that we don't intend to happen. And sometimes we become our own worst enemies, When we test the limits of our own strength, Counting too much on how much we can change.
No. But bad things can happen that we don't plan for. And sometimes we hurt ourselves, When we push our own limits too far, Trusting too much that we won't mess up.
nah but things happen sometimes we're our own worst enemy we test our limits too much
Troilus's speech about time ('Injurious time now with a robber's haste / Crams his rich thiev'ry up') is the play's most baroque and beautiful moment. It articulates a fundamental truth: time moves at the wrong speed. When lovers want time to move slowly, it flies. When they want it to stop, it rushes. The metaphor of time as a thief stealing their farewells captures the play's deepest physics. Troilus and Cressida are trying to experience an eternity of parting compressed into moments. The baroque syntax — intricate, suspended, breathless — mirrors the desperate attempt to hold time still. But the attempt fails. Time is a thief that cannot be stopped, and it crams their infinite goodbyes into a single starved kiss. This speech is Troilus at his most eloquent and most helpless. The beauty of the language is inseparable from the futility of the situation.
[_Within_.] Nay, good my lord!
No, good my lord!
Come on, my lord!
hurry
Come, kiss; and let us part.
Come, kiss me, and then let us leave.
Come here, kiss me, then we gotta go.
kiss me we gotta go
[_Within_.] Brother Troilus!
Brother Troilus!
Troilus, brother!
troilus
Good brother, come you hither;
And bring Aeneas and the Grecian with you.
Good brother, come here. And bring Aeneas and the Greek with you.
Brother, come over here. And bring Aeneas and the Greek guy.
bro come here bring aeneas and the greek
My lord, will you be true?
My lord, will you stay true to me?
My lord, will you stay loyal to me?
u gonna stay true
Who, I? Alas, it is my vice, my fault!
Whiles others fish with craft for great opinion,
I with great truth catch mere simplicity;
Whilst some with cunning gild their copper crowns,
With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare.
Fear not my truth: the moral of my wit
Is plain and true; there’s all the reach of it.
Who, me? Alas, it is my weakness, my flaw! While others fish with tricks for a great reputation, I with great truth catch only simple honor. While some with cunning gild their cheap crowns, With truth and plainness I wear mine bare. Don't fear my loyalty: my basic nature Is simple and true; that's all I know how to be.
Me? That's actually my problem, my flaw! Other guys use tricks to get respect, But I'm so honest I just get simple honor. While some guys use schemes to fake wealth, I'm just plain and true, no act. Don't doubt my loyalty: I'm built on Simplicity and truth; that's just who I am.
its my flaw im just honest others use tricks i use truth dont doubt me
Welcome, Sir Diomed! Here is the lady
Which for Antenor we deliver you;
At the port, lord, I’ll give her to thy hand,
And by the way possess thee what she is.
Entreat her fair; and, by my soul, fair Greek,
If e’er thou stand at mercy of my sword,
Name Cressid, and thy life shall be as safe
As Priam is in Ilion.
Welcome, Sir Diomedes! Here is the lady whom we deliver to you for Antenor. At the port, I'll place her in your hand, and along the way I'll tell you who she is. Treat her well; and by my soul, fair Greek, if ever you find yourself at my sword's mercy, speak Cressida's name, and your life will be as safe as Priam's is in Troy.
Welcome, Sir Diomedes! This is the lady we're trading to you for Antenor. When we reach the port, I'll hand her over and fill you in on everything about her along the way. Treat her well. And listen, Greek, I'm telling you this on my honor: if you ever end up facing my sword and you speak Cressida's name, I'll let you live. You'll be as safe as Priam himself.
welcome diomedes here's the lady for antenor treat her right if u ever face my sword say cressida's name u live that's my promise
Fair Lady Cressid,
So please you, save the thanks this prince expects.
The lustre in your eye, heaven in your cheek,
Pleads your fair usage; and to Diomed
You shall be mistress, and command him wholly.
Fair Lady Cressida, If you please, forget the thanks this prince expects. Your bright eyes are like heaven in your face, Which speaks for your fair treatment. And by Diomed You shall have full command, I am your servant.
Beautiful Lady Cressida, If you want, skip the thanks this prince is looking for. Your shining eyes and your beautiful face Are all the thanks we need. And I, Diomed, Will do whatever you want, I'm yours to command.
beautiful cressida your eyes and face are perfect ill do whatever u want
Grecian, thou dost not use me courteously
To shame the zeal of my petition to thee
In praising her. I tell thee, lord of Greece,
She is as far high-soaring o’er thy praises
As thou unworthy to be call’d her servant.
I charge thee use her well, even for my charge;
For, by the dreadful Pluto, if thou dost not,
Though the great bulk Achilles be thy guard,
I’ll cut thy throat.
Greek, you're not treating me fairly By praising her when I'm begging you to hear me out. I tell you, lord of Greece, She's far more worthy than any of your compliments suggest. You're not even good enough to be called her servant. I'm warning you—treat her well, I'm serious about this. For by great Pluto, if you don't, Even if mighty Achilles is protecting you, I'll cut your throat.
Greek, that's not cool, Complimenting her when I'm asking you to listen to me. I'm telling you, Greek leader, She's way better than your pretty words suggest. You don't deserve to be her servant. I'm serious—treat her right, I mean it. Because by Pluto, if you hurt her, Even if Achilles is backing you up, I will kill you.
dont praise her like that shes worth more than ur words u dont deserve her treat her right or i kill u
O, be not mov’d, Prince Troilus.
Let me be privileg’d by my place and message
To be a speaker free: when I am hence
I’ll answer to my lust. And know you, lord,
I’ll nothing do on charge: to her own worth
She shall be priz’d. But that you say ‘Be’t so,’
I speak it in my spirit and honour, ‘No.’
Oh, stay calm, Prince Troilus. Let me have the freedom that my position as messenger allows— When I'm gone, I'll answer to my own desires. And know this, lord, I'll do nothing under orders. She will be valued For her own worth. But when you say 'So be it,' I speak from my heart and my honor: No.
Oh, don't worry, Prince Troilus. Let me have the freedom my job as messenger gives me— When I leave, I'll do what I want. And listen, lord, I don't do anything just because I'm told to. She'll be treated Based on her own merits. But when you say 'Make sure of it,' I'm telling you from my soul and my honor: I will not hurt her.
chill troilus im a free agent she'll be valued for herself i wont hurt her
Come, to the port. I’ll tell thee, Diomed,
This brave shall oft make thee to hide thy head.
Lady, give me your hand; and, as we walk,
To our own selves bend we our needful talk.
Come, let's go to the port. I'll tell you this, Diomed, You'll often remember this moment and wish you'd stayed quiet. Lady, give me your hand. As we walk, We'll talk about what we need to say.
Come on, let's get to the ship. I'm telling you, Diomed, You're gonna regret those words. Lady, give me your hand. While we walk, We'll say the things we need to say.
ur gonna regret this lady take my hand lets talk as we go
Hark! Hector’s trumpet.
Listen! That's Hector's trumpet.
Listen—that's Hector's signal.
hector's here
How have we spent this morning!
The Prince must think me tardy and remiss,
That swore to ride before him to the field.
How we've wasted this morning! The Prince will think I'm slow and irresponsible, When I swore to ride out before him.
We wasted so much time this morning! The Prince is gonna think I'm lazy and unreliable, When I promised to ride ahead of him.
wasted the morning prince thinks im slow said id ride ahead
’Tis Troilus’ fault. Come, come to field with him.
It's Troilus's fault. Come on, let's go to the field with him.
It's Troilus's doing. Come on, let's head out to the battlefield.
troilus fault lets go fight
Let us make ready straight.
Let us get ready immediately.
Let's get moving right now.
lets go now
Yea, with a bridegroom’s fresh alacrity
Let us address to tend on Hector’s heels.
The glory of our Troy doth this day lie
On his fair worth and single chivalry.
Yes, with the fresh eagerness of a bridegroom Let us go to serve Hector's lead. The glory of our Troy depends today On his noble worth and his individual bravery.
Yeah, with the excitement of a newlywed Let's go serve under Hector's command. Troy's reputation today rests On his strength and his solo courage.
lets go serve hector troy's glory rests on his courage today
The Reckoning
This is the play's central tragic scene. Troilus and Cressida face the reality of separation. Pandarus tries to manage it with crude sympathy; Cressida refuses moderation. Troilus speaks in the language of desperation: the gods are jealous, time is a thief, farewells are never enough. Then, crucially, he asks Cressida to promise to be true. The question wounds her — does he doubt her? When she insists she will be true, Troilus then gives her away. The cruelty is perfect: he gets her promise of fidelity, and then he delivers her to a enemy camp where she will be surrounded by men who desire her. The scene shows us that Troilus's love is inseparable from his fear, and his fear is not baseless. When Cressida arrives in the Greek camp (5-2), she will immediately lose her virtue.
If this happened today…
Two lovers face forced separation. One begs the other to promise fidelity. The other feels hurt at the doubt. They exchange tokens. Then the person who demanded the promise hands the other to their rival. The promise becomes the prelude to betrayal.