Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1896) v2.djvu/323
What know'st thou not of woe?
From what ills art thou free?
In death thy mother hides her pain:
Zeus' sons, his well-belovèd twain, 220
To days of bliss no more may waken:
Thine home-land have thine eyes forsaken;
And slander, through her cities rife,
Assigns thee an accursèd life,
Proclaims thee yon barbarian's wife:
Death amid storm thy lord hath taken:
Thou gladdenest no sire's halls again,
Nor Brazen Fane.[1]
Helen.
(Str. 3)
Ah, who of the Phrygians dared that felling
Of the pines, for the mourning of Ilium fated, 230
And for tears unto them that in Hellas were dwelling,
Of whose beams was the galley, with evil freighted,
Builded of Priam's offspring, the hated,
Whom oars barbaric sped over the tide,
Till he came to the hearth of my Spartan palace
In quest of my beauty, foredoomed the occasion
Of mischief: beside him in treacherous malice
Came Kypris, the bringer of death's desolation
Unto Danaus' sons, unto Priam's nation.
Woe's me for my lot, who am misery's bride! 240
(Ant. 3)
From the gold of the throne of her glory bending,
Dread Hera, Zeus' bride jealousy-glowing,
Sped the fleetfoot scion of Maia descending,
- ↑ The temple of "Athena of the Brazen Fane" at Sparta.