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 Trojan trail.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE IX. Another part of the plain.
Sound retreat. Shout. Enter Agamemnon, Ajax, Menelaus, Nestor, Diomedes and the rest, marching.
AGAMEMNON.
Hark! hark! what shout is this?
NESTOR.
Peace, drums!
SOLDIERS.
[Within.] Achilles! Achilles! Hector’s slain. Achilles!
DIOMEDES.
The bruit is, Hector’s slain, and by Achilles.