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Chorus Leader
What sweet relief to sufferers it is to weep, to mourn, lament, and chant the dirge that tells of grief! Andromache
[610] Do you see this, mother of that man, Hector, who once laid low in battle many a son of Argos? Hecuba
I see that it is heaven's way to exalt what men accounted nothing, and ruin what they most esteemed. Andromache
Hence with my child as booty am I borne; the noble [615] are brought to slavery—a bitter change. Hecuba
This is necessity's grim law; it was just now that Cassandra was torn with brutal violence from my arms. Andromache
Alas, alas! it seems a second Aias has appeared to wrong your daughter; but there are other ills for you. Hecuba
[620] Yes, beyond all count or measure are my sorrows; evil vies with evil in the struggle to be first. Andromache
Your daughter Polyxena is dead, slain at Achilles' tomb, an offering to his lifeless corpse. Hecuba
O woe is me! This is that riddle Talthybius [625] long ago told me, a truth obscurely uttered. Andromache
I saw her myself; so I alighted from the chariot, and covered her corpse with a mantle, and struck upon my breast. Hecuba
Alas! my child, for your unhallowed sacrifice! and yet again, alas! for your shameful death! Andromache
[630] Her death was even as it was, and yet that death of hers was after all a happier fate than my life. Hecuba
Death and life are not the same, my child; the one is annihilation, the other keeps a place for hope.
Euripides. The Plays of Euripides, translated by E. P. Coleridge. Volume I. London. George Bell and Sons. 1891.
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