Hec.
Most putrified core, so fair without,
Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life.
Now is my day's ^note work done; I'll take good breath ^note: [putting off his Helmet.
Rest, sword; thou hast thy fill of blood and death. Shouts within. Enter Achilles, and Myrmidons.

Ach.
Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set;
How ugly night comes breathing at his heels:
Even with the veil and darking ^note of the sun,
To close the day up, Hector's life is done. [assaulting him.

Hec.
I am unarm'd, forego this vantage, Greek.

Ach.
Strike, fellows, strike, this is the man I seek.— [Hector falls.
So, Ilion, fall thou next! now, Troy ^note, sink down;
Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone.—
On, Myrmidons; and ^note cry you all amain,
Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain. [Retreat heard.
Hark! a retreat ^note upon our Grecian part.

Myr.
The Trojan trumpets sound the ^note like, my lord.

Ach.
The dragon wing of night o'er-spreads the earth;
And, stickler-like, the armies seperates.
My half-supt sword, that frankly would have fed,
Pleas'd with this dainty bit ^note, thus goes to bed.— [putting up his Sword.

Come, tie his body to my horse's tail;
Along the field I will the Trojan trail. [Exeunt, dragging out the Body.

Previous section

Next section