PHI.  Come, legions of the wild, II 2
    Of aspect fierce or mild,
    Fowl from the fields of air,
    And beasts that roam with bright untroubled gaze,
    No longer bounding from my lair
    Fly mine approach!  Now freely without fear
    Ye may surround my covert and come near,
    Treading the savage rock-strewn ways. 
    The might I had is no more mine,
    Stolen with those arms divine. 
    This fort hath no man to defend. 
    Come satisfy your vengeful jaws, and rend
    These quivering tainted limbs! 
    Already hovering death bedims
    My fainting sense.  Who thus can live on air,
    Tasting no gift of earth that breathing mortals share?

CH. 4.  Ah! do not shrink from thy friend,
        If love thou reverest,
        But know ’tis for thee to forfend
        The fate which thou fearest. 
        The lot thou hast here to deplore,
        Is sad evermore to maintain,
        And hardship in sickness is sore,
        But sorest in pain.

PHI.  Kindest of all that e’er before III
Have trod this shore,
Again thou mind’st me of mine ancient woe! 
Why wilt thou ruin me?  What wouldst thou do?

CH. 5.  How mean’st thou?

PHI.  If to Troy, of me abhorred
Thou e’er hast hoped to lead me with thy lord.

CH. 6.  So I judge best.

PHI.  Begone at once, begone!

CH. 7.  Sweet is that word, and swiftly shall be done! 
Let us be gone, each to his place on board.
                              [The Chorus make as if they were going

PHI.  Nay, by dear Zeus, to whom all suppliants moan
Leave me not yet!

CH. 8.  Keep measure in thy word.

PHI.  Stay, by Heaven, stay!

CH. 9.  What wilt thou say?

PHI.  O misery!  O cruel power
That rul’st this hour! 
I am destroyed.  Ah me! 
O poor torn limb, what shall I do with thee
Through all my days to be? 
Ah, strangers, come, return, return!

CH. 10.  What new command are we to learn
Crossing thy former mind?

PHI.  Ah! yet be kind. 
Reprove not him, whose tongue, with grief distraught,
Obeys not, in dark storms, the helm of thought!

CH. 11.  Come, poor friend, the way we call.

PHI.  Never, learn it once for all! 
Not though he, whom Heaven obeys,
Blast me with fierce lightning’s blaze! 
Perish Troy, and all your host,
That have chosen, to their cost,
To despise and cast me forth,
Since my wound obscured my worth! 
Ah, but, strangers, if your sense
Hath o’er-mastered this offence,
Yield but one thing to my prayer!

CH. 12.  What wouldst thou have?

PHI.  Some weapon bare,
Axe or sword or sharpened dart,
Bring it to content my heart.