Front Page Titles (by Subject) Scene VIII.—: Another Part of the Plains. - Troilus and Cressida
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Scene VIII.—: Another Part of the Plains. - William Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida 
The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (The Oxford Shakespeare), ed. with a glossary by W.J. Craig M.A. (Oxford University Press, 1916).
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Another Part of the Plains.
Most putrefied 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.
[Puts off his helmet, and hangs his shield behind him.
Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set;
How ugly night comes breathing at his heels:
Even with the vail and darking of the sun,
To close the day up, Hector’s life is done.
I am unarm’d; forego this vantage, Greek.
Strike, fellows, strike! this is the man I seek.
So, Ilion, fall thou next! now, Troy, sink down!
Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone.
On! Myrmidons, and cry you all amain,
‘Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.’—
[A retreat sounded.
Hark! a retreat upon our Grecian part.
The Trojan trumpets sound the like, my lord.
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.