The Trojan Women [15]
it makes but little difference to the dead, although they get a gorgeous funeral; for this is but a cause of idle pride to the living.
The corpse is carried off to burial
CHORUS Alas! for thy unhappy mother, who o'er thy corpse hath closed the high hopes of her life! Born of a noble stock, counted most happy in thy lot, ah! what a tragic death is thine! Ha! who are those I see on yonder pinnacles darting to and fro with flaming torches in their hands? Some new calamity will soon on Troy alight.
Enter TALTHYBIUS above. Soldiers are seen on the battlements of Troy, torch in hand.
TALTHYBIUS Ye captains, whose allotted task it is to fire this town of Priam, to you I speak. No longer keep the firebrand idle in your hands, but launch the flame, that when we have destroyed the city of Ilium we may set forth in gladness on our homeward voyage from Troy. And you, ye sons of Troy-to let my orders take at once a double form-start for the Achaean ships for your departure hence, soon as ever the leaders of the host blow loud and clear upon the trumpet. And thou, unhappy grey haired dame, follow; for yonder come servants from Odysseus to fetch thee, for to him thou art assigned by lot to be a slave far from thy country. HECUBA Ah, woe is me! This surely is the last, the utmost limit this, of all my sorrows; forth from my land I go; my city is ablaze with flame. Yet, thou aged foot, make one painful struggle to hasten, that I may say a farewell to this wretched town. O Troy, that erst hadst such a grand career amongst barbarian towns, soon wilt thou be reft of that splendid name. Lo! they are burning thee, and leading us e'en now from our land to slavery. Great gods! Yet why call on the gods? They did not hearken e'en aforetime to our call. Come, let us rush into the flames, for to die with my country in its blazing ruin were a noble death for me. TALTHYBIUS Thy sorrows drive thee frantic, poor lady. Go, lead her hence, make no delay, for ye must deliver her into the hand of Odysseus, conveying to him his prize. HECUBA O son of Cronos, prince of Phrygia, father of our race, dost thou behold our sufferings now, unworthy of the stock of Dardanus? CHORUS He sees them, but our mighty city is a city no more, and Troy's day is done. HECUBA Woe! thrice woe upon me! Ilium is ablaze; the homes of Pergamos and its towering walls are now one sheet of flame. CHORUS As the smoke soars on wings to heaven, so sinks our city to the 'ground before the spear. With furious haste both fire and foeman's spear devour each house. HECUBA Hearken, my children, hear your mother's voice. CHORUS Thou art calling on the dead with voice of lamentation. HECUBA Yea, as I stretch my aged limbs upon the ground, and beat upon the earth with both my hands. CHORUS I follow thee and kneel, invoking from the nether world my hapless husband. HECUBA I am being dragged and hurried away. CHORUS O the sorrow of that cry! HECUBA From my own dear country, to dwell beneath a master's roof. Woe is me! O Priam, Priam, unburied, left without a friend, naught dost thou know of my cruel fate. CHORUS No, for o'er his eyes black death hath drawn his pall-a holy man by sinners slain! HECUBA Woe for the temples of the gods! Woe for our dear city! CHORUS Woe! HECUBA Murderous flame and foeman's spear are now your lot. CHORUS Soon will ye tumble to your own loved soil, and be forgotten. HECUBA And the dust, mounting to heaven on wings like smoke, will rob me of the sight of my home. CHORUS The name of my country will pass into obscurity; all is scattered far and wide, and hapless Troy has ceased to be. HECUBA Did ye hear that and know its purport? CHORUS Aye, 'twas the crash of the citadel. HECUBA The shock will whelm our city utterly. O woe is me! trembling, quaking limbs, support my footsteps! away! to face the day that begins thy slavery. CHORUS Woe for our unhappy
The corpse is carried off to burial
CHORUS Alas! for thy unhappy mother, who o'er thy corpse hath closed the high hopes of her life! Born of a noble stock, counted most happy in thy lot, ah! what a tragic death is thine! Ha! who are those I see on yonder pinnacles darting to and fro with flaming torches in their hands? Some new calamity will soon on Troy alight.
Enter TALTHYBIUS above. Soldiers are seen on the battlements of Troy, torch in hand.
TALTHYBIUS Ye captains, whose allotted task it is to fire this town of Priam, to you I speak. No longer keep the firebrand idle in your hands, but launch the flame, that when we have destroyed the city of Ilium we may set forth in gladness on our homeward voyage from Troy. And you, ye sons of Troy-to let my orders take at once a double form-start for the Achaean ships for your departure hence, soon as ever the leaders of the host blow loud and clear upon the trumpet. And thou, unhappy grey haired dame, follow; for yonder come servants from Odysseus to fetch thee, for to him thou art assigned by lot to be a slave far from thy country. HECUBA Ah, woe is me! This surely is the last, the utmost limit this, of all my sorrows; forth from my land I go; my city is ablaze with flame. Yet, thou aged foot, make one painful struggle to hasten, that I may say a farewell to this wretched town. O Troy, that erst hadst such a grand career amongst barbarian towns, soon wilt thou be reft of that splendid name. Lo! they are burning thee, and leading us e'en now from our land to slavery. Great gods! Yet why call on the gods? They did not hearken e'en aforetime to our call. Come, let us rush into the flames, for to die with my country in its blazing ruin were a noble death for me. TALTHYBIUS Thy sorrows drive thee frantic, poor lady. Go, lead her hence, make no delay, for ye must deliver her into the hand of Odysseus, conveying to him his prize. HECUBA O son of Cronos, prince of Phrygia, father of our race, dost thou behold our sufferings now, unworthy of the stock of Dardanus? CHORUS He sees them, but our mighty city is a city no more, and Troy's day is done. HECUBA Woe! thrice woe upon me! Ilium is ablaze; the homes of Pergamos and its towering walls are now one sheet of flame. CHORUS As the smoke soars on wings to heaven, so sinks our city to the 'ground before the spear. With furious haste both fire and foeman's spear devour each house. HECUBA Hearken, my children, hear your mother's voice. CHORUS Thou art calling on the dead with voice of lamentation. HECUBA Yea, as I stretch my aged limbs upon the ground, and beat upon the earth with both my hands. CHORUS I follow thee and kneel, invoking from the nether world my hapless husband. HECUBA I am being dragged and hurried away. CHORUS O the sorrow of that cry! HECUBA From my own dear country, to dwell beneath a master's roof. Woe is me! O Priam, Priam, unburied, left without a friend, naught dost thou know of my cruel fate. CHORUS No, for o'er his eyes black death hath drawn his pall-a holy man by sinners slain! HECUBA Woe for the temples of the gods! Woe for our dear city! CHORUS Woe! HECUBA Murderous flame and foeman's spear are now your lot. CHORUS Soon will ye tumble to your own loved soil, and be forgotten. HECUBA And the dust, mounting to heaven on wings like smoke, will rob me of the sight of my home. CHORUS The name of my country will pass into obscurity; all is scattered far and wide, and hapless Troy has ceased to be. HECUBA Did ye hear that and know its purport? CHORUS Aye, 'twas the crash of the citadel. HECUBA The shock will whelm our city utterly. O woe is me! trembling, quaking limbs, support my footsteps! away! to face the day that begins thy slavery. CHORUS Woe for our unhappy