By Euripides

Translated by E. P. Coleridge

Revised by Casey Dué and Mary Ebbott

Based on the Greek text as edited by James Diggle (Oxford, 1994)

Dramatis Personae

THE GHOST OF POLYDORUS, son of HECUBA and Priam, King of Troy

HECUBA, wife of Priam

CHORUS OF CAPTIVE TROJAN WOMEN

POLYXENA, daughter of HECUBA and Priam

ODYSSEUS

TALTHYBIUS, herald of AGAMEMNON

MAID OF HECUBA

AGAMEMNON

POLYMESTOR, King of the Thracian Chersonese

Setting: Before AGAMEMNON'S tent in the Greek camp upon the shore of the Thracian Chersonese. The GHOST OF POLYDORUS appears.

GHOST I have come from out the depths of the dead and the gates of gloom,
where Hades dwells apart from gods,
I Polydorus, a son of Hecuba, the daughter of Cisseus,
and of Priam. Now my father, when Phrygia's capital
was threatened with destruction by the spear of Hellas,
took alarm and conveyed me secretly from the land of Troy
to Polymestor's house, his friend [xenos] in Thrace,
who sows these fruitful plains of Chersonese,
curbing by his might a nation delighting in horses.
And with me my father sent great store of gold by stealth,
so that, if ever Ilium's walls should fall,
his children that survived might not want for means to live.
I was the youngest of Priam's sons; and this it was that
caused my stealthy removal from the land; for my childish arm
was not able to carry weapons or to wield the spear.
So long then as the bulwarks of our land stood firm,
and Troy's battlements remained unshaken,
and my brother Hector prospered in his warring,
I, poor child, grew up and flourished, like some vigorous shoot,
at the court of the Thracian, my father's friend [xenos].
But when Troy fell and Hector lost
his life [psukhê] and my father's hearth was rooted up,
and himself fell butchered at the god-built altar
by the hands of Achilles' murderous son;
then did my father's friend [xenos] slay me, his helpless guest, for the sake of the gold,
and thereafter cast me into the swell of the sea,
to keep the gold for himself in his house.
And there I lie at one time upon the strand, at another in the salt sea's surge,
drifting ever up and down upon the billows,
unwept, unburied; but now o'er the head of my dear [philos] mother
Hecuba I hover, having deserted my body [sôma],
keeping my airy station these three days,
ever since my poor mother came from Troy
to linger here in Chersonese.
Meantime all the Achaeans sit idly [hêsukhos] here in their ships
at the shores of Thrace;
for the son of Peleus, Achilles, appeared above his tomb
and stayed the whole host of Hellas
as they were making straight for home across the sea,
demanding to have my sister Polyxena
offered at his tomb, and to receive his prize.
And he will obtain this prize, nor will they who are his friends [philos, plural]
refuse the gift; and on this very day
is fate leading my sister to her doom.
So will my mother see two children dead at once,
me and that ill-fated maiden.
For I in order to win a grave - ah me! - will appear
amid the rippling waves before her bond-maid's feet.
Yes! I have won this favor from the powers below,
that I should find a tomb and fall into my mother's hands;
so shall I get my heart's desire;
wherefore I will go and waylay aged Hecuba,
for there she passes on her way from the shelter of
Agamemnon's tent, terrified at my spectre.
Woe is you! ah, mother mine! from a palace dragged
to face a life of slavery! how sad your lot,
as sad as it once was blest! Some god is now destroying you,
setting this in the balance to outweigh your former good fortune.

(The GHOST vanishes. HECUBA enters from the tent of AGAMEMNON, supported by her attendants, captive Trojan women.)

HECUBA (chanting) Guide these aged steps, my servants, forth before the house;
support your fellow-slave,
your queen of yore, women of Troy.
Support me, guide me, lift me up,
take hold of my aged hand,
and leaning upon your bended arm as on a staff
I will quicken
my halting footsteps onwards.

O dazzling light of Zeus! O gloom of night!
Why have I been scared
by fearful visions of the night? O mistress earth,
mother of dreams that flit on dark wings!
I am seeking to avert the vision of the night,
[the sight of horror which I saw so clearly in my dreams
touching my son, who is safe [sôzô] in Thrace,
and Polyxena my dear [philos] daughter.]

O gods of the earth! preserve [sôzô] my son,
the last and only anchor of my house,
now settled in Thrace, the land of snow,
safe in the keeping of his father's friend [xenos].
Some fresh disaster is in store,
a new strain of sorrow will be added to our woe.
Such ceaseless thrills of terror never
wrung my heart before.
Oh! where, Trojan maidens,
can I find the psukhê of inspired Helenus or Cassandra,
that they may interpret for me my dream?

[For I saw a dappled hind mangled by a wolf's bloody fangs,
torn from my knees by force in a piteous way.
And this too filled me with fright;
over the summit of his tomb appeared
Achilles' phantom, and for his prize he demanded
one of the Trojan women who have so many toils.
Wherefore, I implore you, powers divine [daimôn, plural],
avert this horror from my daughter, from my child.]

(The CHORUS OF CAPTIVE TROJAN WOMEN enters.)

CHORUS (singing) Hecuba, I have hastened away to you,
leaving my master's tent,
where the lot assigned me as his appointed slave,
driven away from the city
of Ilium, hunted by Achaeans thence
at the point of the spear;
I bring you no alleviation for your sufferings;
but burdened myself with heavy news,
I am a herald of sorrow to you, lady.
It is said that the Achaeans in full assembly
have determined to offer your daughter
in sacrifice to Achilles; for you know how
one day he appeared standing on his tomb in golden armor,
and stayed the sea-borne ships,
though they had their sails already hoisted,
with this pealing cry, "Where, Danaans,
do you sail so fast,
leaving my tomb without its prize?"
Thereon arose a violent dispute with stormy altercation,
and opinion was divided
in the warrior host of Hellas, some being in favour of offering
the sacrifice at the tomb, others dissenting.
There was Agamemnon, all eagerness in your interest,
because of his love for the frenzied prophetess;
but the two sons of Theseus,
scions of Athens, though supporting
different proposals, yet agreed on the same decision,
which was to crown Achilles' tomb
with fresh-spilt blood;
for they said they never would set
Cassandra's love
before Achilles' valour.
Now the zeal of the rival disputants
was almost equal, until that shifty, smooth-mouthed slicer of words, the son of Laertes,
whose tongue is ever at the service of the mob, persuaded the army
not to put aside the best of all the Danai
for want of a slave-woman's sacrifice,
nor have it said by any of the dead
who stand beside Persephone that without one thought of gratitude
the Danaans have left the plains of Troy
and deserted their brethren who died
for Hellas.
Odysseus will be here in an instant,
to drag the tender maiden from your breast
and tear her from your aged arms.
To the temples, to the altars with you!
[at Agamemnon's knees throw yourself as a suppliant!]
Invoke alike the gods in heaven
and those beneath the earth. For either shall your prayers
avail to spare you the loss of your unhappy child,
or you must live to see your daughter
fall before the tomb, her crimson blood
spurting in deep dark jets
from her neck with gold encircled.

HECUBA Woe, woe is me! What words can I utter?
What akhos, what lamentation,
the sorrows of my closing years
and slavery too cruel to bear
or endure! Woe, woe is me!
What champion have I? Sons,
and city - where are they? Aged Priam is no more;
no more my children now.
Which way am I to go,
this or that? Where can I be safe? [sôzô] Where is any
god [theos] or power divine [daimôn] to succour me?
Ah, Trojan women! bringers of evil tidings!
messengers of woe!
you have made an end, an utter end of me; life
on earth has no more charm for me.
Ah! luckless steps, lead on,
lead your aged mistress
to this tent over here. (calling) My child,
come forth; come forth, you daughter of the queen of sorrows;
listen to your mother's voice,
my child, [that you may know the hideous
rumour I now hear about your life [psukhê]].

(POLYXENA enters from the tent.)

POLYXENA Mother, mother why do you call so loud? what news
is it you have proclaimed, scaring me, like a cowering bird,
from my chamber by this alarm?

HECUBA Alas, my daughter!

POLYXENA Why this ominous address? it bodes sorrow for me.

HECUBA Woe for your life [psukhê]!

POLYXENA Tell all, hide it no longer.
Ah mother! how I dread, indeed dread
the import of your loud laments.

HECUBA Ah my daughter! a luckless mother's child!

POLYXENA Why do you tell me this?

HECUBA The Argives with one consent
are eager for your sacrifice
to the son of Peleus at his tomb.

POLYXENA Ah! mother! how can you speak of such a horror?
Yet reveal to me all,
yes all, mother.

HECUBA I tell, my child, an ill-boding rumour;
they bring me word that sentence is passed
upon your life by the Argives' vote.

POLYXENA Alas, for your cruel sufferings! my persecuted mother!
woe for your life of grief! What grievous outrage
some daimôn has sent on you,
hateful, horrible!
No more shall I your daughter
share your bondage,
hapless youth on hapless age attending.
For just as a lion's whelp of the hills is torn from its mother,
you, alas! hapless will see <..................>
your hapless young shoot
torn from your arms,
and sent beneath the darkness of the earth
with severed throat for Hades,
where with the dead shall I be laid, ah me!

For you I lament with mournful wail,
mother doomed to a life of sorrow!
For my own life, its ruin and its outrage,
never a tear I shed; no, death
has become for me a happier lot than life. 

LEADER OF THE CHORUS See where Odysseus comes in haste,
to announce [sêmainô] some fresh command to you, Hecuba.

(ODYSSEUS enters, with his attendants.) 

ODYSSEUS Lady, I think you know already the intention of the army,
and the vote that has been passed; still will I declare it.
It is the Achaeans' will to sacrifice your daughter Polyxena
at the mound heaped over Achilles' grave;
and they appoint me to take the maid and bring her there,
while the son of Achilles is chosen
to preside o'er the sacrifice and act as priest.
Do you know then what to do? Do not be forcibly torn from her,
nor match your might against mine;
recognize the limits of your strength, and the presence of your troubles.
Even in adversity [kakos, plural] it is wise [sophos] to yield to reason's dictates. 

HECUBA Ah me! an awful trial [agôn] is at hand, it seems,
fraught with mourning, rich in tears.
Yes, I too escaped death where death had been my due,
and Zeus did not destroy me but is still preserving my life, that I may witness
in my misery [kakos] fresh sorrows [kakos, plural] surpassing all before.
Still if the enslaved may ask the free
for things that grieve them not nor wrench their heart-strings,
it is well that you should make an end
and listen to my questioning.

ODYSSEUS Granted; put your questions; that short delay I grudge you not.

HECUBA Do you remember the day you came to spy on Ilium,
disguised in rags and tatters,
while down your cheek ran drops of blood?

ODYSSEUS Remember it! yes; it was no slight impression it made upon my heart.

HECUBA Did Helen recognize you and tell me only?

ODYSSEUS I well remember [memnêmai] the awful risk I ran.

HECUBA Did you embrace my knees in all humility?

ODYSSEUS Yes, so that my hand grew dead and cold upon your robe.

HECUBA What did you say then, when you were my slave?

ODYSSEUS Doubtless I found plenty to say, to save my life.

HECUBA Was it I that saved [sôzô] and sent you forth again?

ODYSSEUS You did, and so I still behold the light of day.

HECUBA Are not you then playing a sorry part to plot against me thus,
after the kind treatment you did by your own confession receive from me,
showing me no gratitude but all the ill you can?
A thankless [without kharis] race! all you who covet honour [timê] from the mob
for your oratory. Would that you were unknown to me,
you who harm your friends and think no more of it,
if you can but say a word to win the mob.
But tell me, what kind of cleverness did they think it,
when against this child they passed their murderous vote?
Was it duty led them to slay a human victim
at the tomb, where sacrifice of oxen more befits?
Or does Achilles, claiming the lives of those who slew him as his recompense,
show his justice [dikê] by marking her out for death?
No! she at least never committed any injury [kakos] against him.
He should have demanded Helen as a victim at his tomb,
for she it was that proved his ruin, bringing him to Troy;
or if some captive of surpassing beauty was to be singled out for doom,
this pointed not to us;
for the daughter of Tyndareus [= Helen] was fairer than all womankind,
and her injury to him was proved no les than ours.
Against the justice [dikê] of his plea I pit this argument.
Now hear the recompense due from you to me at my request.
On your own confession, you did fall at my feet
and embrace my hand and aged cheek;
I in my turn now do the same to you,
and claim the favour [kharis] then bestowed and I implore you,
do not tear my child from my arms,
nor slay her. There are dead enough;
she is my only joy, in her I forget my sorrows;
She is my one comfort in place of many a loss,
she is my city and my nurse, my staff and journey's guide.
It is never right that those in power should use it out of season,
or when prosperous suppose they will be always so.
For I like them was prosperous once, but now my life is lived,
and one day robbed me of all my bliss [olbos].
Friend [philos], by your beard, have some regard
and pity for me; go to Achaea's host,
and talk them over, saying how hateful a thing it is
to slay women whom at first you spared out of pity,
after dragging them from the altars.
For among you the self-same law holds good for free
and slave alike respecting bloodshed;
such influence as yours will persuade them.
The same argument, when proceeding from those of no account,
has not the same force as when it is uttered by men of mark.

LEADER Human nature is not so stony-hearted
as to hear your laments and catalogue of sorrows,
without shedding a tear.

ODYSSEUS O Hecuba! Learn from me, nor in your passion
count him a foe who speaks wisely.
Your life [sôma] I am prepared to save [sôzô],
for the service I received; I say no otherwise.
But what I said to all, I will not now deny,
that after Troy's capture I would give your daughter
to the chiefest of our host because he asked a victim.
For herein is a source of weakness to most states,
whenever a man of brave and generous soul
receives no greater honour than his inferiors [more kakos].
Now Achilles, lady, deserves honour [timê] at our hands,
since for Hellas he died as beautifully as a mortal can.
Is not this a foul reproach to treat a man as a friend [philos] in life,
but, when he is gone from us, to treat him so no more?
Well? what will they say, if once more there comes
a gathering of the army and a contest [agôn] with the foe?
"Shall we fight or be lovers our lives [psukhê, plural],
seeing the dead have no honours [timê]?"
For myself, indeed, even if in life my daily store
were scant, yet it would be all-sufficient,
but as touching a tomb I should wish mine to be an object of respect,
for this gratitude [kharis] endures.
You speak of cruel sufferings; hear my answer.
Among us are aged women and grey old men
no less miserable [adjective of athlos] than you,
and brides bereft noble [aristos] husband,
over whose bodies [sôma, plural] this Trojan dust has closed.
Endure these sorrows; for us, if we are wrong [kakos] in resolving
to honour [verb of timê] the brave, we shall bring upon ourselves a charge of ignorance;
but as for you barbarians, regard not your friends [philos, plural] as friends,
and pay no homage to those that died beautifully,
in order that Hellas may prosper
and that you may reap the fruits of such policy.

LEADER Alas! how cursed [kakos] is slavery alway in its nature,
forced by the might of the stronger to endure unseemly treatment. 

HECUBA Daughter, my pleading
to avert your bloody death was wasted idly on the air;
But you, if in any way endowed with greater power to move than your mother,
make haste to use it, uttering every pleading note
like the tuneful nightingale, to save your soul from death.
Throw yourself at Odysseus' knees to move his pity,
and try to move him. Here is your plea: he too has children,
so that he can feel for your sad fate.

POLYXENA Odysseus, I see you hiding your right hand
beneath your robe and turning away your face,
so that I may not touch your beard.
Take heart; you are safe from the suppliant's god in my case,
for I will follow you, alike because I must
and because it is my wish to die; for were I not willing,
a coward [kakos] should I show myself, a woman too fond of her life [psukhê].
Why should I prolong my days? I whose sire was king
of all the Phrygians? This was the most important thing in life for me.
Then was I nursed on fair fond hopes
to be a bride for kings, the center of fierce jealousy among suitors,
to see whose home I would make my own;
and over each woman of Ida I was queen; ah me!
a maiden marked amid women and girls,
equal to a goddess, save for death alone.
But now I am a slave. That name first
makes me long for death, so strange it sounds;
and then maybe my lot might give me to some savage master,
one that would buy me for money -
me the sister of Hector and many another chief -
who would make me knead him bread within his halls,
or sweep his house or set me working at the loom,
leading a life of misery;
while some slave, bought I know not whence, will taint my maiden charms,
once deemed worthy of royalty [turannos].
No, never! Here I close my eyes upon the light,
free as yet, and dedicate myself to Hades.
Lead me away, Odysseus, and accomplishe this agôn for me,
for I see nothing within my reach to make me hope or expect
with any confidence that I am ever again to be happy.
Mother mine! do not seek to hinder me
by word or deed, but join in my wish
for death before I meet with shameful and undeserved treatment.
For whoever is not used to taste of sorrow's cup,
though he bears it, yet it painss him when he puts his neck within the yoke;
far happier would he be dead
than alive, for the loss of a life of honour is a great toil [ponos].

LEADER A wondrous mark, most clearly stamped,
does noble birth imprint on men, and the name goes still further
where it is deserved. 

HECUBA A noble speech, my daughter! but there is sorrow
linked with its noble sentiments. Odysseus, if you must
give this compensation [kharis] to the son of Peleus, and avoid reproach,
do not slay this maiden,
but lead me to Achilles' pyre
and torture me unsparingly: I am the one that bore Paris,
whose fatal shaft laid low the son of Thetis.

ODYSSEUS 'Tis not your death, old woman, Achilles'
ghost has demanded of the Achaeans, but hers.

HECUBA At least then slaughter me with my child;
so shall there be a double draught of blood
for the earth and the dead that claims this sacrifice. 

ODYSSEUS The maiden's death suffices; no need to add
a second to the first; would that we needed not even this!

HECUBA Die with my daughter I must.

ODYSSEUS How so? I did not know I had a master.

HECUBA I will cling to her like ivy to an oak.

ODYSSEUS Not if you will obey those who are wiser [more sophos] than yourself.

HECUBA Be sure I will never willingly relinquish my child.

ODYSSEUS Well, be equally sure I will never go away and leave her here.

POLYXENA Mother, listen to me; and you, son of Laertes,
make allowance for a parent's natural wrath.
My poor mother, fight not with our masters.
Will you be thrown down, be roughly thrust aside
and wound your aged skin,
and in unseemly wise be torn from me by youthful arms?
This will you suffer; do not so, for it is not right for you.
No, dear mother mine give me your beloved [philos] hand,
and let me press your cheek to mine;
for never, nevermore, but now for the last time
shall I behold the dazzling sun-god's orb.
My last [telos] farewells now take!
O mother, mother mine! beneath the earth I pass.

HECUBA Yours, my daughter, is a piteous lot, and sad [adjective from athlos] is mine also.

POLYXENA There in Hades' courts shall I be laid apart from you.

HECUBA Ah me, what shall I do? where shall I end my life?

POLYXENA Though daughter of a free-born father, I am to die a slave .

HECUBA O my daughter, I am still to live and be a slave.

POLYXENA Unwedded I depart, never having tasted the married joys that were my due!

HECUBA Not one of all my fifty children left! 

POLYXENA What message can I take for you to Hector or your aged husband?

HECUBA Tell them that of all women I am the most miserable [adjective from athlos]. 

POLYXENA Ah! bosom and breasts that fed me with sweet food!

HECUBA Wretched [adjective of athlos] are you, my child, for this untimely fate!

POLYXENA Farewell, my mother! farewell, Cassandra! 

HECUBA "Fare well!" others do, but not your mother, no!

POLYXENA You too, my brother Polydorus, who are in Thrace, the home of horses!

HECUBA Yes, if he lives, which much I doubt; so luckless am I every way. 

POLYXENA Oh yes, he lives; and, when you die, he will close your eyes.

HECUBA I am dead; sorrow [kakos, plural] has forestalled death here. 

POLYXENA Come veil my head, Odysseus, and take me hence;
for now, before there falls the fatal blow, my heart is melted
by my mother's laments, and hers no less by mine.
O light of day! for still may I call you by your name,
though now my share in you is but the time
I take to go between this and the sword at Achilles' tomb.

(ODYSSEUS and his attendants lead POLYXENA away.)

HECUBA Woe is me! I faint; my limbs sink under me.
O my daughter, embrace your mother, stretch out your hand,
give it again; don't leave me childless! Ah, friends [philos, plural]! I am destroyed.
[Oh! to see that Spartan woman, Helen, sister of the sons of Zeus,
in such a plight; for her bright eyes have caused
the shameful fall of Troy's once prosperous [with favoring daimôn] town.

(HECUBA sinks fainting to the ground.)

CHORUS (singing, strophe 1)
O breeze from out the deep arising,
that escorts swift,
sea-faring ships to harbors across the surging sea!
Where will you bear me, the child of sorrow?
To whose house shall I be brought,
to be his slave and chattel?
To some haven in the Dorian land,
or in Phthia, where
men say the Apidanus river, father of fairest streams,
makes the land fat and rich?

(antistrophe 1)

or to an island home,
sent on a voyage of misery by oars that sweep the brine,
leading a wretched existence in halls
where the first-created palm
and the bay-tree put forth their sacred
shoots for dear Latona,
as a memorial of her divine child-birth?
And there with the maids of Delos
shall I hymn the golden head-band and bow
of Artemis their goddess?

(strophe 2)

Or in the city of Pallas,
the home of Athena of the beauteous chariot,
shall I upon her saffron robe
yoke horses to the car,
weaving them on my web
in brilliant varied shades,
or [shall I weave] the race of Titans,
whom Zeus the son of Kronos lays to their unending sleep
with his bolt of flashing flame?

(antistrophe 2)

Woe is me for my children!
Woe for my ancestors, and my country
which is falling in smouldering ruin
amid the smoke,
sacked by the Argive spear!
While I upon a foreign shore am called
a slave, leaving Asia,
Europe's handmaid,
and receiving in its place the chambers of Hades.

(The herald, TALTHYBIUS, enters.)

TALTHYBIUS Trojan women, where can I find Hecuba,
who once was queen of Ilium? 

LEADER OF THE CHORUS There she lies near you, Talthybius,
stretched full length upon the ground, wrapt in her robe.

TALTHYBIUS Great Zeus! what can I say? that you look upon men?
Or that we hold this false opinion all to no purpose,
[thinking there is any race of gods [daimôn, plural],]
when it is chance that rules the mortal sphere?
Was not this the queen of wealthy Phrygia,
the wife of Priam highly blessed [olbios] ?
And now her city is utterly overthrown by the spear,
and she, a slave in her old age, her children dead, lies stretched upon the ground,
soiling her hair, poor lady, in the dust.
Well, well; old as I am, may death be my lot
before I am caught in any foul mischance.
Arise, poor queen!
Lift up yourself and raise that hoary head.

HECUBA (stirring) Ah! who are you that will not let my body [sôma]
to rest? Why disturb me in my anguish, whoever you are?

TALTHYBIUS It is I, Talthybius, who am here, the minister of the Danai;
Agamemnon has sent me for you, lady.

HECUBA (rising) Good friend [most philos], have you come because
the Achaeans are resolved to slay me to at the grave? How welcome [philos] would your tidings be!
Let us hasten and lose no time; lead the way, old sir.

TALTHYBIUS I have come to fetch you to bury your daughter's corpse, lady;
and those that send me
are the two sons of Atreus and the Achaean host.

HECUBA Ah! what will you say? Have you not come, as I had thought,
to fetch me to my doom, but to announce ill news?
Lost, lost, my child! snatched from your mother's arms!
And I am childless now, at least as touches you; ah, woe is me!
How did you end her life? Did you show her any reverence?
Or did you deal ruthlessly with her as though your victim were a foe, old man?
Speak, though your words must be pain to me.

TALTHYBIUS Lady, you are bent on earning a double profit of tears from me
in pity for your child; for now too as I tell the sad [kakos] tale
a tear will wet my eye, as it did at the tomb when she was dying.
All Achaea's host was gathered there
in full array before the tomb to see your daughter offered;
and the son of Achilles took Polyxena by the hand
and set her on the top of the mound, while I stood near;
and a chosen band of young Achaeans
followed to hold your child and prevent her struggling.
Then did Achilles' son take in his hands
a brimming cup of gold
and poured an offering to his dead sire, making a sign to me
to proclaim silence throughout the Achaean host.
So I stood at his side and in their midst proclaimed,
"Silence, Achaeans! All people be hushed!
Peace! Be still!" Therewith I calmed the host.
Then he spoke, "Son of Peleus, my father,
accept the offering I pour you to appease your spirit,
strong to raise the dead; and come to drink
the black blood of a virgin pure, which I
and the host are offering you; oh! be propitious to us;
grant that we may loose our prows and the cables
of our ships, and, meeting with prosperous voyage from Ilium,
all come to our country and achieve a homecoming [nostos]."
So he spoke; and all the army echoed his prayer.
Then seizing his golden sword by the hilt
he drew it from its scabbard, making a sign to the picked young Argive warriors
to hold the maid.
But she, when she became aware of this, uttered [sêmainô] a speech:
"O Argives, who have sacked my city!
Of my free will I die; let none lay hand on me;
for bravely will I yield my neck.
I beseech you by the gods, leave me free
when you kill me, so I may die free, for to be called
a slave among the dead fills my royal heart with shame."
At that the people shouted their applause, and king Agamemnon
bade the young men to release the maiden.
[So they set her free, as soon as they heard this last command
from him whose might was over all.]
And she, hearing her captors' words took her robe and
tore it open from the shoulder to the waist,
displaying a breast and bosom fair as a statue's;
then sinking on her knee,
one word she spoke more piteous than all the rest,
"Young prince, if it is my breast
you desire to strike, stike, or if at my neck
you wish to aim your sword, behold! that neck is bared."
Then he, both unwilling and willing in his pity for the girl,
cut with the steel the channels of her breath,
and streams of blood gushed forth; but she, even as she was dying,
took care to fall with dignity,
hiding what must be hidden from the gaze of man.
As soon as she had breathed her last through the fatal gash,
each Argive set his hand to different tasks,
some strewing leaves over the corpse
in handfuls, others bringing pine-logs
and heaping up a pyre; and he, who brought nothing,
would hear from him who did such taunts [kakos, plural] as these,
"You stand still, ignoble wretch [most kakos],
with no robe or ornament to bring for the maiden?
Will you give nothing to her that showed such peerless bravery
and spirit [aristos + psukhê]?" Such is the tale I tell
about your daughter's death, and I regard you as blessed
beyond all mothers in your noble child, yet crossed in fortune more than all. 

LEADER A terrible suffering has boiled over the race of Priam
and my city, sent upon us by the necessity of the gods.

HECUBA O my daughter! Amid this crowd of sorrows I do not know
where to turn my gaze; for if I set myself to one,
another will not give me pause; while from this again a fresh grief summons me,
finding a successor to sorrow's throne.
No longer now can I efface from my mind the memory of your sufferings [pathos]
sufficiently to stay my tears;
yet the story of your noble death has taken from the keenness of my grief.
Is it not then strange that poor [kakos] land,
when blessed by heaven with a lucky year, yields a good crop,
while land that is good, if robbed of needful care,
bears but little [kakos] fruit; yet amongst men
the burdensome is never anything but kakos,
and the noble [esthlos] man is never anything but noble [esthlos], never changing
for the worse because of misfortune, but always good?
[Is then the difference due to birth or bringing up?
Good training doubtless gives
lessons in good conduct, and if a man have mastered this,
he knows what is base by the standard of good.]
But these thoughts are the random shafts of my soul's shooting.

(To TALTHYBIUS)

Go you and proclaim to the Argives
that they touch not my daughter's body but keep the crowd away.
For when countless host is gathered,
the mob knows no restraint, and the unruliness of sailors
exceeds that of fire, the only evil [kakos] being abstinence from doing evil [kakos].

(TALTHYBIUS goes out. Addressing a servant)

My aged handmaid, take a pitcher
and dip it in the salt sea and bring it here,
that I for the last time may wash my child,
a bride but not a bride, a virgin and not a virgin,
and lay her out - as she deserves, ah! whence can I?
Impossible! but as best I can; and what will that be?
I will collect adornment from the captive women,
my companions in these tents,
if by chance any of them, escaping her master's eye,
have some secret store from her old home.

(The MAID departs.)

O towering halls, O home so happy once,
O Priam, rich in store of fairest wealth, most blessed of fathers,
and I no less, the grey-haired mother of your children,
how we are brought to nothing, stripped
of our former pride! And in spite of all we vaunt ourselves,
one on the riches of his house,
another because he has an honoured [adjective from timê] name amongst his fellow-citizens!
But these things are nothing; in vain are all our thoughtful schemes,
in vain our vaunting words. He is happiest [most olbios]
who meets no sorrow [kakos] in his daily life.

(HECUBA enters the tent.)

CHORUS (singing, strophe) 
Disaster and suffering
were made my lot in life,
from the moment when Paris first
cut his beams of pine
in Ida's woods, to sail across the heaving sea
in search of the marriage bed of Helen,
fairest woman on whom the sun-god
turns his golden eye. 

(antistrophe)

For here began the cycle
of toils [ponoi], and, worse than that, relentless necessity;
and from one man's folly came a universal
curse [kakos], bringing death
to the land of Simois, with trouble from an alien shore.
The strife [eris] that was decided [krinô], the contest which
the shepherd [Paris] judged [krinô] on Ida
between three daughters of the blessed gods,

(epode)

brought as its result war and bloodshed and the ruin of my home;
and many a Spartan maiden too is weeping bitter tears
in her halls on the banks of fair Eurotas,
and many a mother whose sons are slain,
is striking her hoary head and tearing her cheeks,
making her nails red in the furrowed gash. 

MAID (attended by bearers bringing in a covered corpse)
Oh! where, ladies, is Hecuba, the woman of every athlos,
who far surpasses all in tribulation [kakos, plural], men and women both alike?
None shall wrest the crown from her.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS What is it, you wretched bird of boding note?
Your mournful tidings never seem to rest.

MAID It is to Hecuba I bring my bitter news [algos, plural];
no easy task is it for mortal lips to speak propitiously in sorrow's hour [kakos, plural].

LEADER Look! she is coming even now from the shelter of the tent
appearing just in time to hear you speak.

(HECUBA comes out of the tent.)

MAID Alas for you! most completely wretched queen, ruined
beyond all words of mine to tell; though you look upon the light of life;
you are robberd of children, husband, city; hopelessly undone! 

HECUBA This is no news but insult; I have heard it all before.
But why have you come, bringing here to me
the corpse of Polyxena, on whose burial
Achaea's host was reported to be busily engaged?

MAID (aside) She knows nothing of what I have to tell, but mourns Polyxena,
not grasping her new sorrows.

HECUBA Ah! woe is me! you are not surely bringing here
the head of Cassandra, the inspired prophetess?

MAID She lives, of whom you speak; but the dead you do not weep is here.
(Uncovering the corpse) Mark well the body [sôma] now laid bare;
is this not this a sight to fill you with wonder, and upset your hopes?

HECUBA Ah me! it is the corpse of my son Polydorus I behold,
whom the Thracian man was keeping safe [sôzo] for me in his halls.
Alas! this is the end of all; my life is over.
(Chanting) O my son, my son,
alas for you! a Bacchic strain I now begin;
just learned, a moment gone,
from an avenging deity.

MAID What! so you know your son's fate [atê], poor lady.

HECUBA (chanting) I cannot, cannot have faith in this fresh sight I see.
Woe succeeds to woe;
time will never cease henceforth to bring me groans and tears.

LEADER Alas poor lady, our sufferings are cruel [kakos] indeed.

HECUBA (chanting) O my son, child of a luckless mother,
what was the manner of your death? What lays you dead at my feet?
Who did the deed?

MAID I know not. On the sea-shore I found him.

HECUBA (chanting) Cast up on the smooth sand,
or thrown there after the murderous blow? 

MAID The waves had washed him ashore.

HECUBA (chanting) Alas! alas!
I read aright the vision I saw in my sleep,
nor did the phantom dusky-winged escape my notice,
even the vision I saw concerning you,
my son, who are now no more within the bright sunshine.

LEADER Who slew him then? Can you who are versed in dream interpretation tell us that?

HECUBA (chanting) It was my own, own friend [xenos], theThracian horseman,
with whom his aged father had placed the boy in hiding.

LEADER O horror! What will you say? Did he slay him to get the gold?

HECUBA (chanting) O accursed crime! O deed without a name! beyond wonder!
impious! intolerable! Where are now the laws [from dikê] between guest and host [xenos]?
Accursed monster! How have you mangled
his flesh, slashing the poor child's limbs with ruthless sword,
lost to all sense of pity!

LEADER Alas for you! how some deity [daimôn], whose hand is heavy on you,
has sent you troubles [ponos] beyond all other mortals!
But I see our lord and master
Agamemnon coming; so let us be still henceforth, my friends [philos, plural].

(AGAMEMNON enters.)

AGAMEMNON Hecuba, why are you delaying to come and bury your daughter?
for it was for this that Talthybius brought me your message
begging that none of the Argives should touch your child.
And so I granted this, and none is touching her,
but this long delay of yours fills me with wonder.
Therefore I have come to send you hence; for our part
there is well performed; if in this there is any place for "well."

(He sees the body.)

Ha! what man is this I see near the tents,
some Trojan's corpse? It is not an Argive's body;
that the garments it is clad in tell me.

HECUBA (aside) Unhappy one! in naming you I name myself;
O Hecuba, what shall do? throw myself here at Agamemnon's
knees, or bear my sorrows in silence?

AGAMEMNON Why do you turn your back towards me and weep,
refusing to say, what has happened, or who this is?

HECUBA (aside) But should he count me as a slave and foe
and spurn me from his knees, I should but add to my anguish.

AGAMEMNON I am no prophet [mantis] born; wherefore, if I be not told,
I cannot learn the current of your thoughts. 

HECUBA (aside) Can it be that in estimating this man's feelings
I make him out too ill-disposed, when he is not really so?

AGAMEMNON If your wish really is that I should remain in ignorance,
we are of one mind; for I have no wish myself to listen.

HECUBA (aside) Without his aid I shall not be able to avenge
my children. Why do I still ponder the matter?
I must do and dare whether I win or lose.

(Turning to AGAMEMNON)

O Agamemnon! by your knees,
by your beard and fortunate [with favoring daimôn] hand I implore you.

AGAMEMNON What is your desire? To be set free?
That is easily done.

[HECUBA Not that; give me vengeance on the wicked [kakos],
and evermore am I willing to lead a life of slavery.]

HECUBA It is none of the things that you are thinking, lord.

AGAMEMNON Well, but why do you call me to your aid?

HECUBA Do you see this corpse, for whom my tears now flow?

AGAMEMNON I do; but what is to follow, I cannot guess.

HECUBA He was my child in days gone by; I bore him in my womb.

AGAMEMNON Which of your sons is he, poor sufferer?

HECUBA Not one of Priam's race who fell beneath Ilium's walls.

AGAMEMNON Did you have any son besides those, lady?

HECUBA Yes, him you see here, of whom, as it seems, I have small gain.

AGAMEMNON Where then was he, when his city was being destroyed?

HECUBA His father, fearful of his death, conveyed him out of Troy.

AGAMEMNON Where did he place him apart from all the sons he then had?

HECUBA Here in this very land, where his corpse was found.

AGAMEMNON With Polymestor, the king of this country?

HECUBA He was sent here in charge of gold, a most bitter trust!

AGAMEMNON By whom was he slain? What death overtook him?

HECUBA By whom but by this man? His Thracian host [xenos] slew him.

AGAMEMNON The wretch! Could he have been so eager for the treasure?

HECUBA Even so; soon as ever he heard of the Phrygians' disaster.

AGAMEMNON Where did find him? Or did some one bring his corpse?

HECUBA This maid, who chanced upon it on the sea-shore.

AGAMEMNON Was she seeking it, or bent on other tasks [ponos]?

HECUBA She had gone to fetch water from the sea to wash Polyxena.

AGAMEMNON It seems then his host [xenos] slew him and cast his body out to sea.

HECUBA Yes, for the waves to toss, after mangling him thus.

AGAMEMNON Woe is you for your measureless troubles [ponos, plural]!

HECUBA I am ruined; no evil [kakos] now is left, O Agamemnon.

AGAMEMNON Look you! what woman was ever born to such misfortune?

HECUBA There is none, unless you would name misfortune herself.
But hear my reason for throwing myself at your knees.
If my treatment seems to you deserved,
I will be content; but, if otherwise,
help me to punish this most godless host [xenos],
who has accomplished a deed most damned,
fearless alike of gods in heaven or hell;
who, although he had often shared my table
and been counted first of all my guest-friends [philos, plural]
and after meeting with every kindness he could claim and receiving my consideration,
slew my son, and bent though he was on murder, deigned
not to bury him but cast his body forth to sea.
I may be a slave and weak as well,
but the gods [theos, plural] are strong, and there is custom too which prevails over them,
for by custom it is that we believe in them
and set up bounds of right [dikê] and wrong [a-dikê] for our lives.
Now if this principle, when referred to you, is to be set at nothing,
and they are to escape punishment [dikê] who murder guests [xenos, plural]
or dare to plunder the temples of gods [theos, plural],
then there is no parity in human affairs.
Deem this then a disgrace and show regard for me,
have pity on me, and, like an artist standing back from his picture,
look on me and closely scan my piteous [construction from kakos] state.
I was once queen, but now I am your slave;
a happy mother once, but now childless and old alike,
without a city, utterly forlorn, the most wretched [adjective from athlos] woman living.
Ah! woe is me! where would you withdraw your steps from me?

(as AGAMEMNON is turning away)

My efforts then will be in vain, ah me! ah me!
Why, oh! why do we mortals toil, as needs we must,
and seek out all other sciences,
but persuasion, the only real mistress of mankind,
we take no furthur pains to master completely
by offering to pay for the knowledge, so that any man
might upon occasion convince his fellows as he pleased and gain his point as well?
How shall anyone hereafter hope for prosperity?
All those my sons are gone from me,
and I, their mother, am led away into captivity to suffer shame,
while yonder I see the smoke leaping up over my city.
Further - though perhaps this were idly urged,
to plead your love, still will I put the case -
at your side lies my daughter,
Cassandra, the maid inspired, as the Phrygians call her.
How then, king, will you acknowledge those nights of rapture [adjective from philos],
or what return [kharis] shall she my daughter or I her mother have
for all the love she has lavished on her lord?
[For from darkness and the endearments of the night
mortals reap by far their keenest joys [kharis].]
Hearken then; Do you see this corpse?
By doing him a service you will do it to your brother-in-law.
One thing only have I yet to urge.
Oh! would I had a voice in arms,
in hands, in hair and feet,
placed there by the arts of Daedalus or one of the gods [theos, plural],
that all together they might with tears embrace your knees,
bringing a thousand pleas to bear on you!
O my lord and master, most glorious light of Hellas,
listen, stretch forth a helping hand to this aged woman,
for all she is a thing of nothing; still do so.
For it is ever a good [esthlos] man's duty to succour the right [dikê],
and to punish evil-doers [kakos, plural] wherever found.

LEADER It is strange how everything falls together in human life!
The laws of necessity determine all,
making the most bitter foes [ekhthros, plural] friends [philos, plural],
and regarding as foes those who formerly were friends.

AGAMEMNON Hecuba, I feel compassion for you and your son and your ill-fortune,
as well as for your suppliant gesture,
and I would gladly see that impious host [xenos]
pay you this penalty [dikê] for the sake of the gods [theos, plural] and justice [from dikê],
could I but find some way to help you without appearing
to the army to have plotted the death
of the Thracian king for Cassandra's sake.
For on one point I am assailed by perplexity;
the army count this man their friend [adjective from philos], the dead their foe [ekhthros];
that he is dear [philos] to you is a matter apart,
wherein the army has no share.
Reflect on this; for though you find me ready
to share your toil [ponos] and quick to lend my aid,
yet the risk of being reproached by the Achaeans makes me hesitate.

HECUBA Ah! there is not in the world a single man free;
for he is either a slave to money or to fortune,
or else the people in their thousands or the fear of public prosecution
prevents him from following the dictates of his heart.
But since you are afraid, deferring too much to the rabble,
I will rid you of that fear.
Thus; be privy to my plot if I devise mischief
against this murderer, but refrain from any share in it.
And if there break out among the Achaeans any uproar or attempt at rescue,
when the Thracian is suffering his doom,
check it, though without seeming to do so for my sake.
For what remains, take heart; I will arrange everything well.

AGAMEMNON How? What will you do? Will you take a sword
in your aged hand and slay the barbarian,
or have you drugs or what to help you?
Who will take your part? whence will you procure friends [philos, plural]?

HECUBA Sheltered beneath these tents is a host of Trojan women.

AGAMEMNON Do you mean the captives, the booty of the Hellenes? 

HECUBA With their help will I punish my murderous foe.

AGAMEMNON How are women to master men?

HECUBA Numbers are a fearful thing, and joined to craft a desperate foe.

AGAMEMNON A fearful thing, it is true; still I have a mean opinion of the female race.

HECUBA What? Did not women slay the sons of Aegyptus,
and utterly clear Lemnos of men?
But let it be even thus; put an end to our conference,
and send this woman for me safely through the host.
And do you (To servant) draw near my Thracian friend [xenos]
and say, "Hecuba, once queen of Ilium, summons you,
on your own business no less than hers,
your children too, for they also must hear
what she has to say." (The servant goes out.) Defer awhile, Agamemnon,
the burial of Polyxena lately slain,
that brother and sister may be laid on the same pyre and buried side by side,
a double cause of sorrow to their mother.

AGAMEMNON So shall it be; yet had the host been able to sail,
I could not have granted you this favor [kharis];
but, as it is, since the god [theos] sends forth no favouring breeze,
we must remain, seeing, as we do, that sailing cannot be.
Good luck to you! for this is the interest
alike of citizen and state,
that the wrong-doer [kakos] be punished and the good man prosper.

(AGAMEMNON departs as HECUBA withdraws into the tent.)

CHORUS (singing, strophe 1) 

No more, my native Ilium,
shall you be counted among the towns never sacked;
so thick a cloud of Hellene troops is settling all around,
wasting you with the spear;
you have been shorn of your crown of towers, and you have been blackened
most piteously with filthy soot;
no more, ah me! shall tread your streets.

(antistrophe 1)

It was in the middle of the night my ruin came,
in the hour when sleep steals sweetly over the eyes after the feast is done.
My husband, the music over,
and the sacrifice that sets the dance afoot now ended,
was lying in our bridal-chamber, his spear hung on a peg;
with never a thought of the sailor-throng
encamped upon the Trojan shores; 

(strophe 2)

and I was braiding my tresses
in a headband that bound up the hair
before my golden mirror's countless rays,
that I might lay me down to rest in my bed;
when through the city rose a din,
and a cry went ringing down the streets of Troy, "O
sons of Hellas, when, oh! when
will ye sack the citadel of Ilium,
and seek your homes?" 

(antistrophe 2)

Up sprang I from my bed, with only a tunic about me,
like a Dorian girl,
and sought in vain, ah me! to station myself at the holy hearth of Artemis;
for, after seeing my husband slain,
I was hurried away over the broad sea;
with many a backward look at my city, when the ship
began her homeward voyage and parted me
from Ilium's shore;
until alas! I gave way to grief [algos], 

(epode)

cursing Helen the sister of the Dioscuri, and Paris
the baneful shepherd of Ida;
since it was their marriage,
which was no marriage but a curse
by some demon sent,
that robbed me of my country and drove me from my home.
Oh! may the sea's salt flood never carry her home again;
and may she never set foot in her father's halls [oikos]!

(HECUBA comes out of the tent as POLYMESTOR, his children and guards enter.)

POLYMESTOR My dear [philos] friend Priam, and you no less,
Hecuba, I weep to see you and your city thus,
and your daughter lately slain. Alas!
there is nothing to be relied on; fair fame is insecure,
nor is there any guarantee that good deeds will not be turned to woe.
For the gods [theos, plural] confound our fortunes, tossing them to and fro,
and introduce confusion, that our perplexity
may make us worship them. But why should I lament these things,
when it brings me no nearer to heading the trouble?
If you are blaming me at all for my absence,
stay a moment; I was away in the very heart of Thrace
when you were brought here; but on my return,
just as I was starting from my home
for the same purpose, your maid fell in with me,
and gave me your message, which brought me here at once.

HECUBA Polymestor, I am held in such wretched plight
that I blush to meet your eye;
for my present evil case makes me ashamed to face
you who did see me in happier days,
and I cannot look on you with unfaltering gaze.
Do not then think it ill-will on my part,
[Polymestor; there is another cause as well,
I mean the custom which forbids women to meet men's gaze.]

POLYMESTOR No wonder, surely. But what need have you of me?
Why did send for me to come here from my house?

HECUBA A private matter of my own I wish to tell you
and your children. Please,
bid your attendants to withdraw from the tent. 

POLYMESTOR (to his Attendants) Retire; this deserted spot is safe enough.

(The guards go out; to HECUBA)

You are my friend [philos], and this Achaean host is
well-disposed [adjective from philos] to me. But you must tell me [sêmaino]
how prosperity is to succour
its unlucky friends [philos, plural]; for I am ready to do so.

HECUBA First tell me of the child Polydorus, whom you are keeping
in your halls, received from me and his father;
is he yet alive? The rest will I ask you after that.

POLYMESTOR Yes, you still have a share in fortune there.

HECUBA Well said, dear friend [philos]! How worthy of you!

POLYMESTOR What next would you learn from me?

HECUBA Does he have any recollection [memnêmai] of me his mother?

POLYMESTOR Yes, he was longing to steal away hither to you.

HECUBA Is the gold safe [adjective from sôzô], which he brought with him from Troy?

POLYMESTOR Safe [adjective from sôzô] under lock and key in my halls.

HECUBA Keep [sôzô] it there, but do not covet your neighbor's goods.

POLYMESTOR Not I; May I enjoy what I have, lady!

HECUBA Do you know what I wish to say to you and your children?

POLYMESTOR Not yet; your words maybe will declare [sêmainô] it.

HECUBA May it grow as dear [philos] to you as you now are to me!

POLYMESTOR What is it that I and my children are to learn? 

HECUBA There are ancient vaults filled full of gold by Priam's line.

POLYMESTOR Is it this you would tell [sêmainô] your son?

HECUBA Yes, by your lips, for you are a righteous man.

POLYMESTOR What need then of these children's presence?

HECUBA It is better that they know it, in case of your death.

POLYMESTOR True; it is also the wiser [more sophos] way.

HECUBA Well, do you know where stands the shrine of Trojan Athena?

POLYMESTOR Is the gold there? By what marker [noun from sêmainô] can I find it?

HECUBA A black rock rising above the ground.

POLYMESTOR Is there anything else you would tell me about the place?

HECUBA I wish to keep safe [sôzô] the treasure I brought from Troy.

POLYMESTOR Where can it be? Inside your dress, or have you it hidden?

HECUBA It is safe [sôzô] amid a heap of spoils within these tents.

POLYMESTOR Where? This is the station built by the Achaeans to surround their fleet.

HECUBA The captive women have huts of their own.

POLYMESTOR It is safe to enter? Are there no men about?

HECUBA There are no Achaeans within; we are alone.
Enter then the tent, for the Argives are eager
to set sail from Troy for home;
and, when you have accomplished all that is appointed you, you shall return
with your children to that place where you have lodged my son.

(HECUBA leads POLYMESTOR and his children into the tent.)

CHORUS (chanting) Not yet have you paid the penalty [dikê], but maybe you yet will;
like one who slips and falls into the surge with no haven near,
so shall you lose your own life
for the life you have taken. For where the rights of justice [dikê]
and the law of heaven [theos, plural] are one,
there is ruin [kakos] fraught with death and doom.
Your hopes of this journey will cheat you, for it has led you,
unhappy wretch! to the halls of death;
and to no warrior's hand shall you resign your life.

POLYMESTOR (within the tent) O horror! I am blinded of the light of my eyes, ah me!

LEADER OF THE CHORUS Did you hear, friends [philos, plural], that Thracian's cry of woe?

POLYMESTOR (within) O horror! horror! my children! O the cruel slaughter.

LEADER Friends [philos, plural], new ills [kakos, plural] are brought to pass in that tent.

POLYMESTOR (within) No, you will never escape for all your hurried flight;
for with my fist will I burst open the inmost recesses of this hall.
Look the missile is launched from a heavy hand!

LEADER Shall we force an entry? The crisis calls
on us to aid Hecuba and the Trojan women.

(HECUBA enters, calling back into the tent.)

HECUBA Strike on, spare not, burst the doors!
You will never replace bright vision in your eyes
nor ever see your children, whom I have slain, alive again.

LEADER Have you foiled the Thracian, and is the stranger [xenos] in your power,
mistress? Is all your threat now brought to pass? 

HECUBA A moment, and you shall see him before the tent,
his eyes put out, with random step advancing as a blind man must;
yes, and the bodies [sôma, plural] of his two children whom I
with my brave daughters of Troy did slay; he has paid me
his penalty [dikê]; look where he comes from the tent.
I will withdraw out of his path and stand aloof
from the hot fury of this Thracian, my deadly foe.

(POLYMESTOR rushes out. Blood is streaming from his eyes.)

POLYMESTOR (chanting) Woe is me! Where can I go, where halt, or where turn?
Shall I crawl upon my hands like a wild four-footed
beast on their track? Which
path shall I take first, this or that,
eager as I am to clutch those Trojan murderesses
that have destroyed me?
Out upon you, cursed daughters
of Phrygia!
To what corner have you fled cowering before me?
O sun-god, would that you could heal
my bleeding orbs,
ridding me of my blindness!

Ha!
Hush! I catch their stealthy footsteps here.
Where can I dart on them
and gorge me on their flesh and bones,
making for myself wild beasts' meal,
exacting vengeance in requital of their outrage
on me? Ah, woe is me!
Where am I rushing, leaving my babes unguarded
for Bacchanals of hell to mangle,
to be murdered and ruthlessly cast forth upon the hills, a feast of blood for dogs?
Where shall I stay or turn my steps? Where rest?
Like a ship that lies anchored at sea,
so gathering close my linen robe
I rush to that chamber of death, to guard my babes.

LEADER Woe is you! what grievous outrage [kakos] has been wreaked on you!
Fearful penalty for your foul deed has the deity imposed,
whoever he is whose hand is heavy upon you.

POLYMESTOR (chanting) Woe is me! O my Thracian spearmen, clad in armor, a race of horsemen possessed by Ares!
O! Achaeans! O! Sons of Atreus!
To you I loudly call;
come here, by the gods [theos, plural] come!
Does anyone hear me, or will no man help me? Why do you delay?
Women have destroyed me,
captive women have destroyed me.
A fearful fate is mine;
ah me my hideous outrage!
Where can I turn or go?
Shall I take wings and soar aloft to the mansions of the sky,
where Orion and Sirius dart from their eyes a flash as of fire,
or shall I, in my misery,
plunge to Hades' murky flood?

LEADER It is forgivable, when a man, suffering from evils too heavy to bear,
rids himself of a wretched existence.

(AGAMEMNON and his retinue enter.)

AGAMEMNON Hearing a cry I have come here; for Echo,
child of the mountain-rock, hath sent her voice loud-ringing through the host,
causing a tumult. Had I not known that Troy's towers were levelled by the might of Hellas,
this uproar would have caused no slight terror.

POLYMESTOR Best of friends [most philos]! For by your voice I know you,
Agamemnon, do you see my piteous state?

AGAMEMNON What! hapless Polymestor, who has stricken you?
Who has rendered your eyes blind, staining the pupils with blood?
Who has slain these children? Whoever he was,
fierce must have been his wrath against you and your children.

POLYMESTOR Hecuba, helped by the captive women,
has destroyed me; no! not destroyed, far worse than that.

AGAMEMNON (addressing HECUBA) What have you to say? Was it you that did this deed, as he claims?
You, Hecuba, that have ventured on this inconceivable daring?

POLYMESTOR Ha! What is that? Is she somewhere near?
Show [sêmainô] me, tell me where, that I may grip her in my hands
and rend her limb from limb, bespattering her with gore.

AGAMEMNON Ho! madman, what would you do?

POLYMESTOR By heaven I entreat you,
let me vent on her the fury of my arm.

AGAMEMNON Hold! banish that savage spirit from your heart
and plead your cause, that after hearing you and her in turn
I may fairly decide what reason there is for your present sufferings.

POLYMESTOR I will tell my tale. There was a son of Priam, Polydorus,
the youngest, a child by Hecuba, whom his father Priam sent to me
from Troy to bring up in my halls,
suspecting no doubt the fall of Troy.
Him I slew; but hear my reason for so doing,
to show how cleverly and wisely I had planned.
My fear was that if that child were left to be your enemy,
he would re-people Troy and settle it afresh;
and the Achaeans, knowing that a son of Priam survived,
might bring another expedition against the Phrygian land
and harry and lay waste these plains of Thrace hereafter,
for the neighbours of Troy to experience
the very troubles we were lately suffering, O king.
Now Hecuba, having discovered the death of her son,
brought me here on this pretext, saying she would tell me
of hidden treasure stored up in Ilium by the race of Priam;
and she led me apart with my children into the tent,
that none but I might hear her news.
So I sat me down on a couch in their midst to rest;
for there were many of the Trojan maidens seated there,
some on my right hand, some on my left, as it had been beside a friend [philos];
and they were praising the weaving of our Thracian handiwork,
looking at this robe as they held it up to the light;
meantime others examined my Thracian spear
and so stripped me of the protection of both.
And those that were young mothers were handling
my children in their arms, with loud admiration, as they passed them
on from hand to hand to remove them far from their father;
and then after their smooth speeches (would you believe it?)
in an instant snatching daggers from some secret place in their dress
they stab my children; while others, like octopus,
seized me hand
and foot; and if I tried to raise my head,
anxious to help my babes,
they would clutch me by the hair; while if I stirred my hands,
I could do nothing, poor wretch! for the numbers of the women.
At last they wrought a fearful deed,
worse than what had gone before; for they took their brooches
and stabbed the pupils of my hapless eyes,
making them gush with blood, and then they fled
through the chambers; up I sprang
like a wild beast in pursuit of the shameless murderesses,
searching along each wall with hunter's care,
dealing buffets, spreading ruin. This then is what I have suffered
because of my zeal for your reciprocity [kharis], for slaying an enemy of yours,
O Agamemnon. But to spare you a lengthy speech,
if any of the men of former times have spoken ill of women,
if any does so now, or shall do so hereafter,
all this in one short sentence will say;
for neither land or sea produces a race so pestilent,
as whosoever has had to deal with them knows full well.

LEADER Curb your bold tongue, and do not, because of your own woes,
thus embrace the whole race of women in one reproach;
[for though some of us, and those a numerous class, deserve to be disliked,
there are others amongst us who rank naturally amongst the good.]

HECUBA Never ought words to have outweighed deeds
in this world, Agamemnon.
No! if a man's deeds have been good, so should his words have been;
if, on the other hand, evil, his words should have betrayed their unsoundness,
instead of its being possible at times to give a fair complexion to injustice [what is not dikê].
There are, it is true, clever [sophos] persons, who have made a science of this,
but their cleverness cannot last for ever [until their telos];
a miserable [adverb of kakos] end awaits them; none ever yet escaped.
This is a warning I give you at the outset.
Now will I turn to this fellow, and will give you your answer,
you who say it was to save Achaea double toil
and for Agamemnon's sake that you did slay my son.
No, villain [most kakos], in the first place,
no barbarian race could ever be friends [philos, plural]
with Hellas. Again, what interest did you have
to further by your zeal? Was it to form some marriage,
or on the score of kin, or why?
Or was it likely that they would sail here again
and destroy your country's crops? Whom do you expect to persuade into believing that?
If you would only speak the truth, it was the gold
that slew my son, and your greedy spirit.
Now tell me this; why, when Troy was victorious,
when her ramparts still stood round her,
when Priam was alive, and Hector's warring prospered,
why did you not, if you were really minded to do Agamemnon a service,
then slay the child, for you had him in your palace under your care,
or bring him with you alive to the Argives?
Instead of this, when our sun was set
and the smoke of our city showed [sêmainô] it was in the enemy's power,
you did murder the guest [xenos] who had come to your hearth.
Furthermore, to prove your villainy [kakos], hear this;
if you were really a friend [philos] to those Achaeans,
you should have brought the gold, which you say you are keeping not for yourself but for Agamemnon,
and given it to them, for they were in need
and had endured a long exile from their native land.
Whereas not even now can you bring yourself to part with it,
but persist in keeping it in your palace.
Again, had you kept my son safe and sound [sôzô],
as was your duty, a fair renown [kleos] would have been your reward,
for it is in trouble's [kakos] hour that the good most clearly show their friendship [philos, plural];
though prosperity of itself in every case finds friends [philos, plural].
Were you in need of money and he prosperous,
that son of mine would have been as a mighty treasure for you to draw upon;
but now you have him no longer to be your friend [philos],
and the benefit of the gold is gone from you, your children too are dead,
and yourself are in this sorry plight. To you, Agamemnon, I say,
if you help this man, you will show your worthlessness [kakos];
for you will be serving one devoid of honour or piety,
a stranger to the claims of good faith, a wicked host [xenos];
while I shall say you delight in evil-doers [kakos, plural],
being such an one yourself; but I rail not at my masters.

LEADER Look you! how a good cause ever affords men
an opening for a good speech.

AGAMEMNON To be judge in a stranger's troubles [kakos, plural] goes much against my grain,
but still I must; for to take this matter in hand
and then put it from me is a shameful course.
My opinion, that you may know it, is that it was not for the sake of the Achaeans
or me that you did slay your guest [xenos],
but to keep that gold in your own house.
In your trouble [kakos, plural] you make a case in your own interests.
Maybe among you it is a light thing to murder guests [xenos],
but with us in Hellas it is a disgrace.
How can I escape reproach if I judge you not guilty?
I cannot do it. No, since you did dare
your horrid crime, endure as well its painful [not philos] consequence.

POLYMESTOR Woe is me! Worsted by a woman
and a slave, I am, it seems, to suffer by unworthy [kakos] hands.

HECUBA Is it not just [adverb from dikê] for your atrocious crime?

POLYMESTOR Ah, my children! ah, my blinded eyes! woe is me!

HECUBA Do you grieve? what of me? Do you think that I do not grieve for my son?

POLYMESTOR You wicked wretch! your delight is in mocking [verb from hubris] me.

HECUBA I am avenged on you; have I not cause for joy?

POLYMESTOR The joy will soon cease, in the day when ocean's flood...

HECUBA Shall convey me to the shores of Hellas?

POLYMESTOR No, but close over you when you fall from the masthead.

HECUBA Who will force me to take the leap?

POLYMESTOR Of your own accord you will climb the ship's mast.

HECUBA With wings upon my back, or by what means?

POLYMESTOR you will become a dog with bloodshot eyes.

HECUBA How do you know of my transformation?

POLYMESTOR Dionysus, our Thracian prophet, told me so.

HECUBA And did he tell you nothing of your present trouble?

POLYMESTOR No; else you would never have caught me thus by guile.

HECUBA Shall I die or live, and so complete my life on earth?

POLYMESTOR You shall die; and to your tomb shall be given a name -

HECUBA Recalling my form, or what will you tell me?

POLYMESTOR "The hapless hound's grave [sêma]," a mark for mariners."

HECUBA It is nothing to me, now that you have paid me penalty [dikê].

POLYMESTOR Further, your daughter Cassandra must die.

HECUBA I scorn the prophecy! I give it to you to keep for yourself.

POLYMESTOR Her shall the wife of Agamemnon, grim keeper of his palace, slay.

HECUBA Never may the daughter of Tyndareus do such a frantic deed!

POLYMESTOR And she shall slay this king as well, lifting high the axe.

AGAMEMNON Are you mad? Are you so eager to find sorrow?

POLYMESTOR Kill me, for in Argos there awaits you a murderous bath.

AGAMEMNON Servants, take him from my sight.

POLYMESTOR Ha! my words gall you?

AGAMEMNON Stop his mouth!

POLYMESTOR Close it now; for I have spoken.

AGAMEMNON Hurry
and cast him upon some desert island,
since his mouth is full of such exceeding presumption.
Go you, unhappy Hecuba, and bury
your two corpses; and you, Trojan women,
go to your masters' tents, for I perceive a breeze
just rising to waft us home.
God grant we reach our country and find all well at home,
released from troubles here!

(POLYMESTOR is dragged away by AGAMEMNON'S guards.)

CHORUS (chanting) Away to the harbour and the tents, my friends [philos, plural],
to prove the toils of slavery!
For such is fate's relentless command.

THE END