Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1896) v2.djvu/207

Nor on the Achaians hurling malisons.
For, if to wrath thy words shall rouse the host, 730
This child shall find no burial, no, nor ruth.
Nay, hold thy peace, and meekly bow to fate;
So not unburied shalt thou leave his corse,
And kindlier the Achaians shalt thou find.

O darling child, O prized above all price, 735
Thou must leave thy poor mother, die by foes!
Thy father's heroism ruineth thee,
Which unto others was deliverance.
Ill-timed thy father's prowess was for thee!
O bridal mine and union evil-starred, 740
Whereby I came, time was, to Hector's hall,
Not as to bear a babe for Greeks to slay,
Nay, but a king for Asia's fruitful land!
Child, dost thou weep?—dost comprehend thy doom?
Why with thine hands clutch, clinging to my robe, 745
Like fledgling fleeing to nestle 'neath my wings?
No Hector, glorious spear in grip, shall rise
From earth, and bringing thee deliverance come,
No kinsman of thy sire, no might of Phrygians;
But, falling from on high with horrible plunge, 750
Unpitied shalt thou dash away thy breath.
O tender nursling, sweet to mother, sweet!
O balmy breath!—in vain and all in vain
This breast in swaddling-bands hath nurtured thee.
Vainly I travailed and was spent with toils! 755
Now, and no more for ever, kiss thy mother,
Fling thee on her that bare thee, twine thine arms
About my waist, and lay thy lips to mine.
O Greeks who have found out cruelties un-Greek,