Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1896) v2.djvu/180

With this lament thou wailest woefully,
And fear through all hearts thrilled

Of Troy's sad daughters, who for thraldom wail,
In yon pavilions while we bide.

Child, child, the Argive hands with oar and sail 160
Are busy by the tide.

Ah me! what mean they? Will they straightway bear us
From fatherland far oversea?

I know not: I but bode the curse drawn near us,
The doom of misery.

Woe!—we shall hear the summons, O ye daughters
Of Troy, from these pavilions come:
The Argives launch their keels upon the waters,
The sails are spread for home!"

Alas! let none call forth the frenzy-driven
Kassandra, bacchant-prophetess, 170
For Argive lust to shame, lest there be given
Distress to my distress!

Troy, Troy, unhappy! down through depths of ruin
Thou sinkest!—ah, unhappy they,