Amph. Erring through a frenzy-fit,
He did all, with the arrows dipt in dye
Of hundred-headed Hudra.
Thes. Heré 's strife!
But who is this among the dead, old man?
Amph. Mine, mine, this progeny—the labor-plagued,
Who went with gods once to Phlegruia's plain.
And in the giant-slaying war bore shield!
Thes. Woe—woe! What man was born mischanceful thus!
Amph. Thou couldst not know another mortal man