Woe, and still worse woe, bawling in the household!And truly, if so many wounds had chanced onMy husband here, as homeward used to dribbleReport, he’s pierced more than a net to speak of!While, were he dying (as the words abounded)A triple-bodied Geruon the Second,Plenty above — for loads below I count not —Of earth a three-share cloak he’d boast of taking,Once only dying in each several figure!Because of suchlike rumours back-revenging,Many the halters from my neck, above head,Others than I loosed — loosed from neck by main force!From this cause, sure, the boy stands not beside me —Possessor of our troth-plights, thine and mine too —As ought Orestes: be not thou astonished!For, him brings up our well-disposed guest-captive