Original: Hard to seem won: but I was won, my lord,
Modern: It’s hard to pretend I’m not interested, but you’ve already won me over, my lord.

Original: With the first glance that ever—pardon me—
Modern: From the very first look we shared—forgive me for saying this—

Original: If I confess much, you will play the tyrant.
Modern: If I tell you too much about my feelings, you’ll take advantage of me.

Original: I love you now; but not, till now, so much
Modern: I love you right now, but never before this moment so deeply

Original: But I might master it: in faith, I lie;
Modern: That I couldn’t control it—honestly, I’m lying to myself.

Original: My thoughts were like unbridled children, grown
Modern: My feelings were like wild children who have become

Original: Too headstrong for their mother. See, we fools!
Modern: Too stubborn for their mother to control. Look at us foolish women!

Original: Why have I blabb’d? who shall be true to us,
Modern: Why have I talked so much? Who will be faithful to us

Original: When we are so unsecret to ourselves?
Modern: When we can’t even keep our own secrets?

Original: But, though I loved you well, I woo’d you not;
Modern: But even though I loved you deeply, I didn’t chase after you.

Original: And yet, good faith, I wish’d myself a man,
Modern: And yet, honestly, I wished I were a man,

Original: Or that we women had men’s privilege
Modern: Or that we women had the same right as men

Original: Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue,
Modern: To speak our feelings first. Darling, tell me to be quiet,

Original: For in this rapture I shall surely speak
Modern: Because in this overwhelming joy I will definitely say

Original: The thing I shall repent. See, see, your silence,
Modern: Something I’ll regret later. Look, look how your silence,

Original: Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws
Modern: So clever in saying nothing, pulls from my weakness

Original: My very soul of counsel! stop my mouth.
Modern: My deepest secrets! Please make me stop talking.

In Act III, Scene ii of Troilus and Cressida, Pandarus brings Troilus and Cressida together in his orchard for their long-awaited romantic encounter. The scene opens with Pandarus making final preparations and then withdrawing to allow the young lovers privacy. Troilus, overwhelmed by the moment he has so desperately desired, speaks passionately about his love and desire for Cressida, while also expressing fears about whether the reality of their union can match his idealized expectations. Cressida, though clearly attracted to Troilus, displays both eagerness and hesitation, torn between her desire and her awareness of the vulnerability that comes with surrendering to love.

As the scene progresses, both lovers make elaborate vows of faithfulness to one another. Troilus swears that his name will forever be synonymous with truth and constancy in love, while Cressida pledges her own fidelity, stating that if she ever proves false, let all unfaithful women be called “Cressids.” Pandarus, returning to witness their exchange of vows, adds his own oath that if their love should fail, let all go-betweens be called “panders.” The scene concludes with Pandarus leading the couple away to consummate their relationship, having successfully orchestrated their union after much maneuvering throughout the play’s earlier acts.

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.