And its wretched occupant, where is he gone to?NeoptolemusIt seems clear to me, anyway, that he is plowing his way along somewhere near here in search of food. For I know of a report thatthis is his means of sustenance—a wretch wretchedly shooting prey with his feathered shafts—and that no one comes near to him to heal his misery.
ChorusFor my part, I pity him when I think how,