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Chorus May he come to the ships! May he reach the army of Hellas and spy it out, then turn again and reach the altars of his father's home in Ilium! May he mount the chariot drawn by Phthia's horses, when our master has sacked Achaea's camp, those horses that the sea-god gave to Peleus, son of Aeacus.
Muse Curses on the son of Oeneus! Curses on Laertes' child! who has bereft me of my fair son and left me childless! and on that woman, too, that left her home in Hellas, and sailed here with her Phrygian lover, bringing death to you, my dearest, for the sake of Troy, and emptying countless cities of their brave heroes.