NESTOR.
Peace, drums!
SOLDIERS.
[Within.] Achilles! Achilles! Hector’s slain. Achilles!
DIOMEDES.
The bruit is, Hector’s slain, and by Achilles.
AJAX.
If it be so, yet bragless let it be;
Great Hector was as good a man as he.
AGAMEMNON.
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.]
SCENE X. Another part of the plain.
Enter Aeneas, Paris, Antenor and Deiphobus.
AENEAS.
Stand, ho! yet are we masters of the field.
Never go home; here starve we out the night.
Enter Troilus.