blazing thunderbolt, hurled in might from its holy home, smite the
barque of Menelaus full amidships as it is crossing the Aegean main,

since he is carrying me away in bitter sorrow from the shores of Ilium
to be a slave in Hellas, while the daughter of Zeus still keeps her

golden mirrors, delight-of maidens' hearts. Never may he reach his
home in Laconia or his father's hearth and home, nor come to the

town of Pitane or the temple of the goddess' with the gates of bronze,
having taken as his captive her whose marriage brought disgrace on

Hellas through its length and breadth and woful anguish on the streams
of Simois! Ah me! ah me! new troubles on my country fall, to take

the place of those that still are fresh! Behold, ye hapless wives of
Troy, the corpse of Astyanax! whom the Danai have cruelly slain by

hurling him from the battlements.
Enter TALTHYBIUS and attendants, bearing

the corpse of ASTYANAX on HECTOR's shield.
TALTHYBIUS

Hecuba, one ship alone delays its plashing oars, and it is soon to
sail to the shores of Phthia freighted with the remnant of the

spoils of Achilles' son; for Neoptolemus is already out at sea, having
heard that new calamities have befallen Peleus, for Acastus, son of

Pelias, hath banished him the realm. Wherefore he is gone, too quick
to indulge in any delay, and with him goes Andromache, who drew many a

tear from me what time she started hence, wailing her country and
crying her farewell to Hector's tomb. And she craved her master

leave to bury this poor dead child of Hector who breathed his last
when from the turrets hurled, entreating too that he would not carry

this shield, the terror of the Achaeans-this shield with plates of
brass wherewith his father would gird himself-to the home of Peleus or

to the same bridal bower whither she, herself the mother of this
corpse, would be led, a bitter sight to her, but let her bury the

child herein" target="_blank" title="ad.在那里，在其中">therein instead of in a coffin of cedar or a tomb of stone,
and to thy hands commit the corpse that thou mayst deck it with

robes and garlands as best thou canst with thy present means; for
she is far away and her master's haste prevented her from burying

the child herself. So we, when thou the corpse hast decked, will
heap the earth above and set thereon a spear; but do thou with thy

best speed perform thy allotted task; one toil however have I
already spared thee, for I crossed Scamander's stream and bathed the

corpse and cleansed its wounds. But now will I go to dig a grave for
him, that our united efforts shortening our task may speed our ship

towards home.
Exit TALTHYBIUS.

HECUBA
Place the shield upon the ground, Hector's shield so deftly

rounded, a piteous sight, a bitter grief for me to see. O ye Achaeans,
more reason have ye to boast of your prowess than your wisdom I Why

have ye in terror of this child been guilty of murder never matched
before? Did ye fear that some day he would rear again the fallen walls

of Troy? it seems then ye were nothing after all, when, though
Hector's fortunes in the war were prosperous and he had ten thousand

other arms to back him, we still were daily overmatched; and yet,
now that our city is taken and every Phrygian slain, ye fear a

tender babe like this! Out upon his fear! say I, who fears, but
never yet hath reasoned out the cause. Ah! my beloved, thine is a

piteous death indeed! Hadst thou died for thy city, when thou hadst
tasted of the sweets of manhood, of marriage, and of godlike power

o'er others, then wert thou blest, if aught herein is blest. But now
after one glimpse, one dream thereof thou knowest them no more, my

child, and hast no joy of them, though heir to all. Ah, poor babe! how
sadly have thy own father's walls, those towers that Loxias reared,

shorn from thy head the locks thy mother fondled, and so oft caressed,
from which through fractured bones the face of murder grins-briefly to

dismiss my shocking theme. O hands, how sweet the likeness ye retain
of his father, and yet ye lie limp in your sockets before me! Dear

mouth, so often full of words of pride, death hath closed thee, and
thou hast not kept the promise thou didst make, when nestling in my

robe, "Ah, mother mine, many a lock of my hair will I cut off for
thee, and to thy tomb will lead my troops of friends, taking a fond

farewell of thee." But now 'tis not thy hand that buries me, but I, on
whom is come old age with loss of home and children, am burying

thee, a tender child untimely slain. Ah me! those kisses numberless,
the nurture that I gave to thee, those sleepless nights-they all are

lost! What shall the bard inscribe-upon thy tomb about thee?
"Argives once for fear of him slew this child!" Foul shame should that

inscription be to Hellas. O child, though thou hast no part in all thy
father's wealth, yet shalt thou have his brazenshield wherein to find

a tomb. Ah! shield that didst keep safe the comely arm of Hector,
now hast thou lost thy valiant keeper! How fair upon thy handle lies

his imprint, and on the rim, that circles round the targe, are marks
of sweat, that trickled oft from Hector's brow as he pressed it

'gainst his beard in battle's stress. Come, bring forth, from such
store as we have, adornment for the hapless dead, for fortune gives no

chance now for offerings fair; yet of such as I possess, shalt thou
receive these gifts. Foolish mortal he! who thinks his luck secure and

so rejoices; for fortune, like a madman in her moods, springs
towards this man, then towards that; and none ever experiences the

same unchanging luck.
CHORUS

Lo! all is ready and they are bringing at thy bidding from the
spoils of Troy garniture to put upon the dead.

HECUBA
Ah! my child, 'tis not as victor o'er thy comrades with horse or

bow-customs Troy esteems, without pursuing them to excess-that
Hector's mother decks thee now with ornaments from the store that once

was thine, though now hath Helen, whom the gods abhor, reft thee of
thine own, yea, and robbed thee of thy life and caused thy house to

perish root and branch.
CHORUS

Woe! thrice woe! my heart is touched, and thou the cause, my
mightyprince in days now passed!

HECUBA
About thy body now I swathe this Phrygian robe of honour, which

should have clad thee on thy marriage-day, wedded to the noblest of
Asia's daughters. Thou too, dear shield of Hector, victorious parent

of countless triumphs past, accept thy crown, for though thou share
the dead child's tomb, death cannot touch thee; for thou dost merit

honours far beyond those arms' that the crafty knave Odysseus won.
CHORUS

Alas! ah me! thee, O child, shall earth take to her breast, a
cause for bitter weeping. Mourn, thou mother!

HECUBA
Ah me!

CHORUS
Wail for the dead.

HECUBA
Woe is me!

CHORUS
Alas! for thy unending sorrow!

HECUBA
Thy wounds in part will I bind up with bandages, a wretched

leech in name alone, without reality; but for the rest, thy sire
must look to that amongst the dead.

CHORUS
Smite, oh smite upon thy head with frequent blow of hand. Woe is

me!
HECUBA

My kind, good friends!
CHORUS

Speak out, good the word that was on thy lips.
HECUBA