"Clearly the rest I behold of the dark-ey’d sons of Achaia; Known to me well are the faces of all; their names I remember; Two, two only remain, whom I see not among the commanders, Castor fleet in the car—Polydeukes brave with the cestus— Own dear brethren of mine—one parent lov’d us as infants. Are they not here in the host, from the shores of lov’d Lacedæmon, Or, tho’ they came with the rest in ships that bound thro’ the waters, Dare they not enter the fight or stand in the council of Heroes All for fear of the shame and the taunts my crime has awaken’d? So said she;—they long since in Earth’s soft arms were reposing, There, in their own dear land, their Father-land, Lacedæmon."