At wind-swept Aulis to o’erthrow the Trojan State,
Nor did I send a hostile fleet to Pergama,
Nor desecrate the sacred ashes of his sire,
That now he should refuse to bend his ear to me.
Go, say his hapless lover makes this last request:
That he wait an easy voyage and a fav’ring gale.
No longer do I ask a husband’s love denied,
Nor yet that he abandon his fair land and realm;
Time, only time, I ask, a little space of rest
From this mad grief, till Fortune give me fortitude,