IPHIGENIA.
Great as is thy woe,
Forget it, I conjure thee, for a while,
Till I am satisfied.
PYLADES.
The stately town,
Which ten long years withstood the Grecian host,
Now lies in ruins, ne'er to rise again;
Yet many a hero's grave will oft recall
Our sad remembrance to that barbarous shore;
There lies Achilles and his noble friend.
IPHIGENIA.
And are ye, godlike forms, reduc'd to dust!
PYLADES.
Nor Palamede, nor Ajax, ere again
The daylight of their native land behold.
IPHIGENIA.