SCENE III

_Agamemnon, Pyrrhus, Calchas._

_Agamemnon._ [_To Calchas._] Thou, who hast freed the anchors of the fleet; Ended the war's delay; and by thy arts Hast opened heaven; to whom the secret things Revealed in sacrifice, in shaken earth, And star that draws through heaven its flaming length, 360 Are messengers of fate; whose words have been To me the words of doom; speak, Calchas, tell What thing the god commands, and govern us By thy wise counsels.

_Calchas._ Fate a pathway grants To Grecians only at the wonted price. 365 A virgin must be slain upon the tomb Of the Thessalian leader, and adorned In robes like those Thessalian virgins wear To grace their bridals, or Ionian maids, Or damsels of Mycene; and the bride 370 Shall be by Pyrrhus to his father brought-- So is she rightly wed. Yet not alone Is this the cause that holds our ships in port, But blood must flow for blood, and nobler blood Than thine, Polyxena. Whom fate demands-- 375 Grandchild of Priam, Hector's only son-- Hurled headlong from Troy's wall shall meet his death; Then shall our thousand sails make white the strait.