ACT V. SCENE 8. Another part of the plain
HECTOR. Most putrified core so fair without, Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life. Now is my day's work done; I'll take good breath: Rest, sword; thou hast thy fill of blood and death! [Disarms]
Enter ACHILLES and his Myrmidons
ACHILLES. 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.
HECTOR. I am unarm'd; forego this vantage, Greek.
ACHILLES. 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.
MYRMIDON. The Troyan trumpets sound the like, my lord.
ACHILLES. 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 Troyan trail.