All’s done, my lord

Ulysses
All's done, my lord.
Troilus
It is.
Ulysses
Why stay we then?
Troilus
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 th' attest of eyes and ears,
As if those organs had deceptious functions,
Created only to calumniate.
Was Cressid here?
Ulysses
I cannot conjure, Trojan.
Troilus
She was not, sure.
Ulysses
Most sure she was.
Troilus
Why, my negation hath no taste of madness.
Ulysses
Nor mine, my lord. Cressid was here but now.
Troilus
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.
Ulysses
What hath she done, prince, that can soil our mothers?
Troilus
Nothing at all, unless that this were she.
Thersites, aside
Will he swagger himself out on ‘s own eyes?