A distant voyage, and an eternal sleep.

How many Satraps in his father's time—

For he I own is, or at least was, bloodless—

Bel. But will not—can not be so now.

Arb.‍I doubt it.

How many Satraps have I seen set out

In his Sire's day for mighty Vice-royalties,

Whose tombs are on their path! I know not how,

But they all sickened by the way, it was

So long and heavy.