NEOPTOLEMOS
None of this amazes me. It is the work of divine Fate, if I understand rightly. Savage Chryse set these sufferings on him, the share of sufferings he must now endure. His torments are not random. The gods, surely, must heap them on him, so that he cannot bend the invincible bow until the right time comes, decreed by Zeus, and as it is promised, Troy is made to fall.
CHORUS
Be quiet, boy.
NEOPTOLEMOS
What is it?
CHORUS
A clear groan—- the steadfast companion of one walking in pain. Where is it? Now comes a noise: a man writhes along his path, from afar comes the sigh of a burdened man—- the cry has carried.
Pay attention, boy.