Of weaklings, bear away the honors due My manes; loose your thankless ships, and sail Across my seas. By no slight offering Did ye aforetime stay Achilles' wrath; And now a greater shall ye pay. Behold, Polyxena, once pledged to me in life, 195 Must by the hand of Pyrrhus to my shade Be led, and with her blood my tomb bedew." So spake Achilles and the realms of day He left for night profound, reseeking Dis; And as he plunged within the depths of earth, The yawning chasm closed and left no trace. The sea lies tranquil, motionless; the wind Its boisterous threats abates, and where but now 200 The storm-tossed waters raged in angry mood, The gentle waves lap harmless on the shore; While from afar the band of Tritons sounds The marriage chorus of their kindred lord. [_Exit._] [_Enter_ Pyrrhus _and_ Agamemnon.] _Pyrrhus:_ Now that you homeward fare, and on the sea Your joyful sails would spread, my noble sire Is quite forgot, though by his single hand Was mighty Troy o'erthrown; for, though his death 205 Some respite granted to the stricken town, She stood but as some sorely smitten tree, That sways uncertain, choosing where to fall. Though even now ye seek to make amends For your neglect, and haste to grant the thing He asks, 'tis but a tardy recompense. Long since, the other chieftains of the Greeks Have gained their just reward. What lesser prize Should his great valor claim? Or is it naught 210 That, though his mother bade him shun the war, And spend his life in long, inglorious ease, Surpassing even Pylian Nestor's years, He cast his mother's shamming garments off, Confessing him the hero that he was? When Telephus, in pride of royal power, 215 Forbade our progress through his kingdom's bounds, He stained with royal blood the untried hand That young Achilles raised. Yet once again He felt that selfsame hand in mercy laid Upon his wound to heal him of its smart. Then did Eëtion, smitten sore, behold His city taken and his realm o'erthrown; By equal fortune fell Lyrnessus' walls, 220 For safety perched upon a ridgy height, Whence came that captive maid, Briseïs fair; And Chrysa, too, lies low, the destined cause Of royal strife; and Tenedos, and the land Which on its spreading pastures feeds the flocks 225 Of Thracian shepherds, Scyros; Lesbos too, Upon whose rocky shore the sea in twain Is cleft; and Cilla, which Apollo loved. All these my father took, and eke the towns Whose walls Caÿcus with his vernal flood Doth wash against. This widespread overthrow Of tribes, this fearful and destructive scourge, That swept through many towns with whirlwind power-- 230 This had been glory and the height of fame For other chiefs; 'twas but an incident