Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees
Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees I
beseech you, what's the matter?
Thou must be gone, wench; thou must be
gone. Thou art changed for Antenor. Thou must to
thy father and be gone from Troilus. ‘Twill be his
death; 'twill be his bane. He cannot bear it.
O you immortal gods! I will not go.
I will not, uncle. I have forgot my father.
I know no touch of consanguinity,
No kin, no love, no blood, no soul so near me
As the sweet Troilus. O you gods divine,
Make Cressid's name the very crown of falsehood
If ever she leave Troilus! Time, force, and death
Do to this body what extremes you can,
But the strong base and building of my love
Is as the very center of the Earth,
Drawing all things to it. I'll go in and weep—
Tear my bright hair, and scratch my praisèd cheeks,
Crack my clear voice with sobs, and break my heart
With sounding —Troilus. I will not go from Troy.