Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1896) v2.djvu/200

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144
EURIPIDES.

Andromache.

Sore are our yearnings, sharp anguish is come on us, O sorrow-stricken: 590
Ruined our city is; cloud over cloud do our miseries thicken,
Sent by the hate of the Gods, since thy son was from Hades delivered,[1]
He for whose bridal accurst were the bulwarks of Ilium shivered.
Pallas the Goddess is left amid corpses blood-boultered that crowd her,[2]
Spoil for the vultures, and Troy 'neath the yoke-band of thraldom hath bowed her.


Hecuba.

Fatherland, hapless, I weep thee, who now, of our faces forlorn,
Seest the pitiful end, and mine home where my children were born.
Children, bereft of my city am I, and from me are ye going—
How wild is our wailing, our woe how deep!— 600
Tears upon tears are flowing, flowing,
Mid our desolate homes:—the dead only, unknowing
Of sorrow, forgetteth to weep.

  1. ↑ Paris, spared at his birth, in spite of the prophecy that he should ruin Troy.
  2. ↑ Her statue stands deserted in her temple, which is polluted with heaps of slain. See l. 15.
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