He entered Ilion once before,
With foam his eyes were covered o’er,
In tatters hung his squalid vest;
He artfully concealed his sword,
And sued for fragments from our board;
Shorn was his head, and like a beggar dressed;
He cursed with simulated hate
Th’ Atrides, rulers of the Grecian state.
May just revenge his forfeit life demand:
Would he had perished as his crimes deserve,
Before he reached the Phrygian land.
1st SEMICHOR. Whether this deed was by Ulysses wrought
It matters not, I shrink with fear, for Hector
Will to us guards impute the blame.
2nd SEMICHOR. What charge
Can he allege?
1st SEMICHOR. He will suspect.
2nd SEMICHOR. Why shrink
With terror?
1st SEMICHOR. ’Twixt our ranks they passed.
2nd SEMICHOR. Who passed?
1st SEMICHOR. They, who this night have entered Phrygia’s camp.