 | Hector |  |
SCENE V.
The Battle.Hector
and Paris, &c.
Where is Deiphobus, where Asius gone,
And Othryonæus, where are they fled?
Sure fate hangs o'er thee with her blackest doom,
Curse of thy race, and of the Trojan state.
Par.
O taunt not thus, my brother and my friend,
Thy warm impatience makes thy tongue unjust.
In other battles I deserved thy scorn,
But not in this. The chiefs you seek are slain.
[Exeunt.
| Hector | |