POLY. Him shall his wife slay, a cruel guardian of his house.
HEC. Never yet may the daughter of Tyndarus have arrived at such madness.
POLY. Even this man himself, having lifted up the axe.
AGA. What ho! thou art mad, and art desirous of obtaining greater ills.
POLY. Kill me, for the murderous bath at Argos awaits thee.
AGA. Will ye not, slaves, forcibly drag him from my presence?
POLY. Thou art galled at what thou hearest.
AGA. Will ye not stop his mouth?
POLY. Stop it: for the word is spoken.
AGA. Will ye not as quick as possible cast him out on some desert island, since he is thus, and past endurance insolent? But do thou, wretched Hecuba, go and bury thy two dead: and you, O Trojan dames, must approach your masters' tents, for I perceive that the gales are favorable for wafting us to our homes. And may we sail in safety to our native country, and behold our household and families in prosperity, having found rest from these toils.