Andromache (565-587)

So now they have torn and are dragging me from the altar of Thetis, the goddess of thy chiefest adoration and the mother of thy gallant son, without any proper trial, yea, and without waiting for my absent master; because, forsooth, they knew my defencelessness

and my child’s, whom they mean to slay with me his hapless mother, though he has done no harm. But to thee, O sire, I make my supplication, prostrate at thy knees, though my hand cannot touch thy friendly beard; save me, I adjure thee, reverend sir,

or to thy shame and my sorrow shall we be slain.

Loose her bonds, I say, ere some one rue it; untie her folded hands.

I forbid it, for besides[*] being a match for thee,

I have a far better right to her.

What! art thou come hither to set my house in order? Art not content with ruling thy Spartans?

She is my captive; I took her from Troy.

Aye, but my son’s son received her as his prize.

Is not all I have his, and all his mine?

For good, but not evil ends; and surely not for murderous violence.

Never shalt thou wrest her from my grasp.