Close it now; for I have spoken.
Haste and cast him upon some desert island, since his mouth is full of such exceeding presumption. Go thou, unhappy Hecuba, and bury thy two corpses; and you, Trojan women, to your masters' tents repair, for lo! I perceive a breeze just rising to waft us home. God grant we reach our country and find all well at home, released from troubles here!
(POLYMESTOR is dragged away by AGAMEMNON'S guards.)
Away to the harbour and the tents, my friends, to prove the toils of slavery! for such is fate's relentless hest.