Ha, listen! Wait.
Crouch on the ground; it may be yet
Our man is drawing to the net.
Voice.
Woe, woe!
The burden of the hills of Thrace!
Leader.
An ally? None of Hellene race.
Voice.
Woe, woe!
Yea, woe to me and woe to thee,
My master! Once to set thine eye
On Ilion the accurst, and die!
Leader (calling aloud).
Ho there! What ally passes? The dim night
Blurreth mine eyes; I cannot see thee right.