Hecuba (720-768)

Alas for you! how some deity, whose hand is heavy on you, has sent you troubles beyond all other mortals! But I see our lord and master

Agamemnon; so let us be still from now on, my friends.

Hecuba, why are you delaying to come and bury your daughter? for it was for this that Talthybius brought me your message begging that no one of the Argives should touch your child. And so we granted this, and are not touching her,

but this delay of yours fills me with wonder. And so I have come to send you from here; for our part there is well performed—if here there is any place for well.

He sees the body. Oh! 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.

Unhappy one! in naming you I name myself; Hecuba, what shall I do? throw myself here at Agamemnon’s knees, or bear my sorrows in silence?

Why do you turn your back towards me and

weep, refusing to say what has happened? Who is this?

But if he should count me as a slave and foe and spurn me from his knees, I would add to my anguish.

I am no prophet born; therefore, if I am not told, I cannot learn the current of your thoughts.

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

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

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 Agamemnon, by your knees, by your beard and conquering hand I implore you—

What is your desire? to be

set free? that is easily done.

Not that; give me vengeance on the wicked, and I am willing to lead a life of slavery forever.

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

It is a matter you little know of, king.

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

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

He was once my child; I bore him in my womb.

Which of your sons is he, poor sufferer?

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

Did you indeed have another son besides those, lady?

Yes, the one you see here, of whom it seems I have small gain.

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

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