And is it true that I must go from Troy?

Cressida
And is it true that I must go from Troy?
Troilus
A hateful truth.
Cressida
What, and from Troilus too?
Troilus
From Troy and Troilus.
Cressida
Is ‘t possible?

We two, that with so many thousand sighs
Did buy each other, must poorly sell ourselves
With the rude brevity and discharge of one.

Troilus
And suddenly, where injury of chance
Puts back leave-taking, jostles roughly by
All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips
Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents
Our locked embrasures, strangles our dear vows
Even in the birth of our own laboring 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 consigned kisses to them,
He fumbles up into a loose adieu
And scants us with a single famished kiss,
Distasted with the salt of broken tears.
Aeneas, within
My lord, is the lady ready?
Troilus 
Hark, you are called. Some say the genius
Cries so to him that instantly must die.—
Bid them have patience. She shall come anon.
Pandarus
Where are my tears? Rain, to lay this wind,
or my heart will be blown up by the root.
 He exits.