[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 death205
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