_Achil_. Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set;
How ugly night comes breathing at his heels;
Even with the vail and dark’ning of the sun,
To close the day up, Hector’s life is done.
_Hect_. I am unarm’d; forego this vantage, Greek.
_Achil_. Strike, fellows, strike; this is the man I seek.
[Hector falls]
So, Ilion, fall thou next! Come, Troy, sink down;
Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone.
On, Myrmidons, and cry you an amain
‘Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.’
[A retreat sounded]
Hark! a retire upon our Grecian part.
_Gree_. The Troian trumpets sound the like, my lord.
_Achil_. The dragon wing of night o’erspreads the earth
And, stickler-like, the armies separates.
My half-supp’d sword, that frankly would have fed,
Pleas’d with this dainty bait, thus goes to bed.
[Sheathes his sword]
Come, tie his body to my horse’s tail;
Along the field I will the Troian trail.
Exeunt
Sound retreat. Shout. Enter Agamemnon, Aiax, Menelaus, Nestor,
Diomedes, and the rest, marching
_Agam_. Hark! hark! what shout is this?
_Nestor_. Peace, drums!
_Sold_. [Within] Achilles! Achilles! Hector’s slain.
Achilles!
_Diom_. The bruit is Hector’s slain, and by Achilles.
_Aiax_. If it be so, yet bragless let it be;
Great Hector was as good a man as he.
_Agam_. March patiently along. Let one be sent
To pray Achilles see us at our tent.
If in his death the gods have us befriended;
Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are ended.
Exeunt