Original: With due observance of thy godlike seat, Great Agamemnon, Nestor shall apply Thy latest words.
Modern: With proper respect for your godlike position, great Agamemnon, I, Nestor, will build upon what you just said.

Original: In the reproof of chance Lies the true proof of men: the sea being smooth,
Modern: When fortune tests us, that’s when we see what men are really made of: when the sea is calm,

Original: How many shallow bauble boats dare sail Upon her patient breast, making their way With those of nobler bulk!
Modern: How many small, worthless boats dare to sail on her peaceful surface, traveling alongside the larger, more impressive ships!

Original: But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage The gentle Thetis, and anon behold
Modern: But let the violent north wind once anger the gentle sea, and then watch closely

Original: The strong-ribb’d bark through liquid mountains cut, Bounding between the two moist elements, Like Perseus’ horse:
Modern: The well-built ship cut through massive waves, leaping between sea and air like Perseus’ flying horse:

Original: where’s then the saucy boat Whose weak untimber’d sides but even now Co-rivall’d greatness?
Modern: where’s that cocky little boat whose flimsy, weak sides just moments ago competed with greatness?

Original: Either to harbour fled, Or made a toast for Neptune.
Modern: Either it has run away to the harbor, or it’s been destroyed and become an offering to the sea god.

Original: Even so Doth valour’s show and valour’s worth divide In storms of fortune;
Modern: In exactly the same way, the appearance of courage and true courage separate themselves when fortune turns stormy;

Original: for in her ray and brightness The herd hath more annoyance by the breeze Than by the tiger;
Modern: for in good times, common people are more bothered by a small breeze than by a tiger;

Original: but when the splitting wind Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks, And flies fled under shade,
Modern: but when the harsh wind bends even the strongest oak trees, and flies have fled for shelter,

Original: why, then the thing of courage As roused with rage with rage doth sympathize, And with an accent tuned in selfsame key Retorts to chiding fortune.
Modern: why, then the truly courageous person matches fortune’s rage with his own rage, and with the same fierce tone answers back to fortune’s scolding.

Troilus and Cressida is set during the Trojan War and follows two interconnected storylines. The first centers on the tragic love affair between Troilus, a young Trojan prince, and Cressida, daughter of the Trojan priest Calchas who has defected to the Greeks. With the help of Cressida’s uncle Pandarus, the lovers are brought together and consummate their relationship, pledging eternal fidelity to one another.

Meanwhile, the Greek camp is plagued by dissension and a breakdown in military hierarchy. The war has dragged on for seven years with little progress. Agamemnon and Nestor struggle to maintain order while Achilles sulks in his tent, refusing to fight. The Greeks attempt to provoke Achilles by having Ajax challenge the Trojan hero Hector to single combat, but this strategy fails to rouse Achilles to action.

The two plots converge when the Greeks and Trojans arrange a prisoner exchange: Cressida is to be traded to the Greek camp in return for the Trojan commander Antenor. Despite their vows of love, Cressida is forced to leave Troy. Once in the Greek camp, she quickly becomes involved with the Greek warrior Diomedes. Troilus witnesses her apparent betrayal during a nighttime encounter and is devastated by her inconstancy.

The play concludes with renewed fighting between the two armies. Hector, despite ominous warnings, enters battle and is treacherously killed by Achilles and his Myrmidons. Troilus, consumed with grief and rage over both Cressida’s betrayal and Hector’s death, vows revenge against the Greeks. The play ends without resolution, as the war continues with both sides having suffered significant losses.