Original: Ajax goes up and down the field, asking for himself.
Modern: Ajax is walking all over the camp, looking for someone to praise him.

Original: He must fight singly to-morrow with Hector, and is so prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling that he raves in saying nothing.
Modern: He has to fight Hector one-on-one tomorrow, and he’s so convinced he’ll win this heroic beating that he’s ranting and raving without actually saying anything.

Original: Why, he stalks up and down like a peacock,—a stride and a stand: ruminates like an hostess that hath no arithmetic but her brain to set down her reckoning:
Modern: He struts around like a peacock—takes a step and then stops: he thinks hard like a tavern keeper who can’t do math and has to figure out the bill in her head:

Original: bites his lip with a politic regard, as who should say ‘There were wit in this head, an ‘twould out;’
Modern: he bites his lip with a thoughtful look, as if to say “There’s intelligence in this brain, if only it would come out;”

Original: and so there is, but it lies as coldly in him as fire in a flint, which will not show without knocking.
Modern: and there is some, but it’s as hard to get out of him as fire from a stone, which won’t spark unless you strike it.

Original: The man’s undone forever; for if Hector break not his neck i’ the combat, he’ll break ‘t himself in vain-glory.
Modern: The man is ruined forever; because if Hector doesn’t break his neck in the fight, he’ll break it himself from excessive pride.

Original: He knows not me: I said ‘Good morrow, Ajax;’ and he replies ‘Thanks, Agamemnon.’
Modern: He doesn’t even recognize me: I said “Good morning, Ajax,” and he answered “Thanks, Agamemnon.”

Original: What think you of this man that takes me for the general?
Modern: What do you think of this idiot who mistakes me for the commander?

Original: He’s grown a very land-fish, language-less, a monster.
Modern: He’s become a complete freak—a fish out of water, unable to speak, a monster.

Original: A plague of opinion! a man may wear it on both sides, like a leather jerkin.
Modern: To hell with reputation! A man can wear it however he wants, inside out or right side out, like a leather jacket.

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.