head and betake him to stealthy speed of foot, or to sit on the bench at the quick oar, and give her way to the sea-faring ship.250 Such angry threats are hurled against us by the brother-kings, the sons of Atreus: I fear to share a bitter death by stoning, smitten at this man's side, who is swayed by a fate to which none may draw nigh.
Te. It sways him no longer: the lightnings flash no more; like a southern gale, fierce in its first onset, his rage abates; and now, in his right mind, he hath new pain.260 To look on self-wrought woes, when no other hath had a hand therein—this lays sharp pangs to the soul.
Ch. Nay, if his frenzy hath ceased, I have good hope that all may yet be well: the trouble is of less account when once 'tis past.
Te. And which, were the choice given thee, wouldst thou choose—to pain thy friends, and have delights thyself, or to share the grief of friends who grieve?
Ch. The twofold sorrow, lady, is the greater ill.
Te. Then are we losers now, although the plague is past.
Ch. What is thy meaning?270 I know not how thou meanest.
Te. Yon man, while frenzied, found his own joy in the dire fantasies that held him, though his presence was grievous to us who were sane; but now, since he hath had pause and respite from the plague, he is utterly afflicted with sore grief, and we likewise, no less than before. Have we not here two sorrows, instead of one?
