But I nor see the Sisupheian stone,
Nor Plouton, nor Demeter's sceptred maid!
I am struck witless sure! Where can I be?
Ho there! what friend of mine is near or far—
Some one to cure me of bewilderment?
For naught familiar do I recognize.
Amph. Old friends, shall I go close to these my woes?
Cho. Ay, and let me too,—nor desert your ills!
Her. Father, why weepest thou, and buriest up
Thine eyes, aloof so from thy much-loved son?