and report what has happened here to our friends there before Achilles' son is killed at the hands of his enemies?
Enter by Eisodos B a messenger.
Ah me! What an unhappy lot is mine, and what terrible news have I come bearing for you, old sir, and for my master's kin!
Oh no! How my prophetic heart foretells disaster!
To tell you my news, aged Peleus, your grandson is dead: such are the sword-thrusts he has received from the men of Delphi and the stranger from Mycenae.
Peleus staggers backwards.
Oh, oh, what are you doing, old man? Do not fall! Hold yourself up!
I am no more, I am destroyed! My speech has departed and the strength of the limbs that hold me up!
If you wish to avenge yourself and your kin, hear what has happened and hold yourself erect.
Ah fate, how you have overwhelmed me, unhappy man that I am, on the farthest edge of old age! But how did the only son of my only son perish? Though the news is pa