Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1896) v2.djvu/225

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THE DAUGHTERS OF TROY.
169

Down from his brow, as to his beard he pressed thee!
Come, bring ye adorning for the hapless corse 1200
Of that ye have: our fortune gives no place
For rich array: mine all shalt thou receive.
A fool is he, who, in prosperity
Secure, rejoices: fortune, in her moods,
Even as a madman, hither now, now thither, 1205
Leaps, and none prospers ever without change.


Chorus.

Lo, ready to thine hand, from spoils of Troy,
They bring adornings on the dead to lay.


Hecuba.

Child, not for victory with steeds or bow
Over thy fellows,—customs which thy folk 1210
Honour, yet not unto excess pursue,—
The mother of thy sire adorneth thee
With gauds from wealth once thine, now reft from thee
By Helen god-accurst: she hath slain withal
Thy life, and brought to ruin all thine house. 1215


Chorus.

Alas and alas! Mine heart dost thou wring, dost thou wring
Who in days overpast wert our city's mighty king!


Hecuba.

In that wherein thou shouldst have clad thy form
For marriage, wedding Asia's loveliest,
Splendour of Phrygian robes, I swathe thee now. 1220
And thou, who wast the glorious mother once

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