Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

Troilus and Cressida

ACT III, SCENE III. The Grecian camp. Before Achilles’ tent.


Now, princes, for the service I have done you,
The advantage of the time prompts me aloud
To call for recompense. Appear it to your mind
That, through the sight I bear in things to love,
I have abandon’d Troy, left my possession,
Incurr’d a traitor’s name; exposed myself,
From certain and possess’d conveniences,
To doubtful fortunes; sequestering from me all
That time, acquaintance, custom and condition
Made tame and most familiar to my nature,
And here, to do you service, am become
As new into the world, strange, unacquainted:
I do beseech you, as in way of taste,
To give me now a little benefit,
Out of those many register’d in promise,
Which, you say, live to come in my behalf.

What wouldst thou of us, Trojan? make demand.

You have a Trojan prisoner, call’d Antenor,
Yesterday took: Troy holds him very dear.
Oft have you–often have you thanks therefore–
Desired my Cressid in right great exchange,
Whom Troy hath still denied: but this Antenor,
I know, is such a wrest in their affairs
That their negotiations all must slack,
Wanting his manage; and they will almost
Give us a prince of blood, a son of Priam,
In change of him: let him be sent, great princes,
And he shall buy my daughter; and her presence
Shall quite strike off all service I have done,
In most accepted pain.

Let Diomedes bear him,
And bring us Cressid hither: Calchas shall have
What he requests of us. Good Diomed,
Furnish you fairly for this interchange:
Withal bring word if Hector will to-morrow
Be answer’d in his challenge: Ajax is ready.

This shall I undertake; and ’tis a burden
Which I am proud to bear.


Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS, before their tent

Achilles stands i’ the entrance of his tent:
Please it our general to pass strangely by him,
As if he were forgot; and, princes all,
Lay negligent and loose regard upon him:
I will come last. ‘Tis like he’ll question me
Why such unplausive eyes are bent on him:
If so, I have derision medicinable,
To use between your strangeness and his pride,
Which his own will shall have desire to drink:
It may be good: pride hath no other glass
To show itself but pride, for supple knees
Feed arrogance and are the proud man’s fees.

We’ll execute your purpose, and put on
A form of strangeness as we pass along:
So do each lord, and either greet him not,
Or else disdainfully, which shall shake him more
Than if not look’d on. I will lead the way.

What, comes the general to speak with me?
You know my mind, I’ll fight no more ‘gainst Troy.

What says Achilles? would he aught with us?

Would you, my lord, aught with the general?


Nothing, my lord.

The better.


Good day, good day.

How do you? how do you?


What, does the cuckold scorn me?

How now, Patroclus!

Good morrow, Ajax.


Good morrow.

Ay, and good next day too.


What mean these fellows? Know they not Achilles?

They pass by strangely: they were used to bend
To send their smiles before them to Achilles;
To come as humbly as they used to creep
To holy altars.

What, am I poor of late?
‘Tis certain, greatness, once fall’n out with fortune,
Must fall out with men too: what the declined is
He shall as soon read in the eyes of others
As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies,
Show not their mealy wings but to the summer,
And not a man, for being simply man,
Hath any honour, but honour for those honours
That are without him, as place, riches, favour,
Prizes of accident as oft as merit:
Which when they fall, as being slippery standers,
The love that lean’d on them as slippery too,
Do one pluck down another and together
Die in the fall. But ’tis not so with me:
Fortune and I are friends: I do enjoy
At ample point all that I did possess,
Save these men’s looks; who do, methinks, find out
Something not worth in me such rich beholding
As they have often given. Here is Ulysses;
I’ll interrupt his reading.
How now Ulysses!

Now, great Thetis’ son!

What are you reading?

A strange fellow here
Writes me: ‘That man, how dearly ever parted,
How much in having, or without or in,
Cannot make boast to have that which he hath,
Nor feels not what he owes, but by reflection;
As when his virtues shining upon others
Heat them and they retort that heat again
To the first giver.’

This is not strange, Ulysses.
The beauty that is borne here in the face
The bearer knows not, but commends itself
To others’ eyes; nor doth the eye itself,
That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself,
Not going from itself; but eye to eye opposed
Salutes each other with each other’s form;
For speculation turns not to itself,
Till it hath travell’d and is mirror’d there
Where it may see itself. This is not strange at all.


On 7/07/15 – Join me in the continuation of

Shakespeare’s Troilus and Cressida

Scrimer (n.)

Scrimer means fencer, swordsman.  Scrimer is cited in William Shakespeare’s Hamlet (Ham IV.vii.99) Claudius says to Laertes, about the French: “The scrimers of their nation.” 

I’ve decided to split Act IV Scene 7 into two sequences: Claudius’ Seduction (of Laertes) and Ophelia’s Death.

#ShakespeareanWordOfTheDay, #poetsareangels.com, @FelinaSilver, #FelinaSilverRobinson, #Scrimer


The Walls That Hold Me©

Felina Silver Robinson

July 05, 2015


The walls that hold me

Know me

They don’t scold me

They don’t judge me


They surely don’t own me

These walls

Are my savior

They protect me from all that’s


And even

What’s good


All that’s no longer

Within my control’

Now they just

Keep me in my place

Without a trace of what

May hurt me

And they won’t irk me

Like the others who just

Want to control me

But I don’t need controlling


This is what I see…Felina Silver Robinson

Stuck On The Bottom©

Copyright 2015

Felina Silver Robinson


I’ve waited down here for so long

You asked me here years ago

For some reason I’ve waited

Believing you’d meet me here

Suddenly one day the darkness came

Now the light has simply gone away

I’m frightened that you are no longer able

To find your own way

No one else comes here

I’m sadly now alone here

The view is no longer becoming

Even my beauty is starting to fade fast

Buy I’m no longer willing to wait for you

Being stuck down here has halted my life

For the last time

I’m now headed back to life

It’s now your turn to wait for me

If you even know how to care anymore


The Hulkster weighs in on WWE’s reality competition, the NXT champ and why Hulkamania would’ve run wild on social media 30 years ago

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New clip features flaming tires, flashing lights and broken glass

The Martian

by Andy Weir

Book Summary Note from Felina Silver Robinson: Author Andy Weir tells the story of a young astronaut that gets left behind in space.  Everyone assumes that he died, but little did they know that young Mark Watney is still alive. They’re all trying to figure out just how Mark could have survived in outer space. Better yet, how are they to get her home? You’ll have to read the book to find out.

Click Here to read more about Andy Weir

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