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, a memorial of her divine birth-pains? and there with the maids of Delos shall I hymn the golden head-band and bow of Artemis, their goddess?

ChorusOr in the city of Pallas, the home of Athena of the lovely chariot, shall I then upon her saffron robe yoke horses,embroidering them on my web in brilliant varied shades, or the race of Titans, put to sleep by Zeus the son of Cronos with bolt of flashing flame?

ChorusAlas for my children! alas for my ancestors, and my country which is falling in smouldering ruin among the smoke, sacked by the Argive spear, while I upon a foreign shore am called a slave, indeed! leaving Asia, Europe’s handmaid, and receiving in its place a deadly marriage-bower.

The herald, Talthybius, enters.TalthybiusWhere can I find Hecuba, who once was queen of Ilium, you Trojan maidens?Chorus LeaderThere she lies near you, Talthybius, stretched full length upon the ground, wrapped in her robe.TalthybiusO Zeus! what can I say? that your eye is over man? or that we hold this opinion all to no purpose,falsely thinking there is any race of gods, when it is chance that rules the mortal sphere? Was not this the queen of wealthy Phrygia, the wife of Priam highly blessed? And now her city is utterly overthrown by the foe,and she, a slave in her old age, her children dead, lies upon the ground, soiling her wretched head in the dust. Ah! old as I am, may death be my lot before I am caught in any shameful mischance. Arise, poor lady! lift up yourself and raise that white head.HecubastirringOh! who are you that will not let my body rest? Why disturb me in my anguish, whoever you are?TalthybiusI, Talthybius, have come, the servant of the Danaids; Agamemnon has sent me for you, lady.HecubarisingGood friend, have you come because the Achaeans are resolved after all to slay me too at the grave? How welcome your tidings would be! Let us hasten and lose no time; please lead the way, old man.TalthybiusI 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 people.HecubaAlas! What will you say? Have you not after all come to fetch me to my doom, but to announce ill news? Lost, my child! snatched from your mother’s arms! and I am childless now, at least as regards you; ah, woe is me!How did you end her life? was any mercy shown? 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.TalthybiusLady, you wish me to have a double benefit of tears in pity for your child; for now too as I tell the sad tale my eyes will be wet, as they were at the tomb when she was dying.All Achaea’s army was gathered there in full array before the tomb to see your daughter sacrificed; and the son of Achilles took Polyxena by the hand and set her on the top of the mound, while I was near;and a chosen band of young Achaeans followed to hold your child and prevent her struggling. Then Achilles’ son took in his hands a brimming cup of gold and raised in his hand an offering to his dead father, making a sign to me to proclaim silence throughout the Achaean army. So I stood at his side and in their midst proclaimed, Silence, you Achaeans! let all the people be silent! peace! be still! So I hushed the army. Then he spoke: Son of Peleus, my father,accept the offering I pour for you to appease your spirit, strong to raise the dead; and come to drink the black blood of a pure girl, which I and the army are offering you; oh! be propitious to us; grant that we may loose our prows and thecables of our ships, and, meeting with a prosperous voyage from Ilium, all come to our country. So he spoke; and all the army echoed his prayer. Then seizing his golden sword by the hilt he drew it from its scabbard, signing to the picked young Argivewarriors to hold the maid. But she, when she perceived it, uttered this speech: O Argives, who have sacked my city! of my free will I die; let no one lay hand on me; for bravely will I yield my neck.By the gods, leave me free; so slay me, that death may find me free; for to be called a slave among the dead fills my royal heart with shame.