wedded to the noblest of Asia ’s daughters. You too, dear shield of Hector, victorious parent of countless triumphs past, accept your crown, for though you share the dead child’s tomb, death cannot touch you; for you merit honors far beyond those arms the arms of Achilles, which were set up as a prize, and won by Odysseus from Aias. that the crafty villain Odysseus won. Chorus Alas! alas! you, O child, shall earth take to her breast, a cause for bitter weeping. Mourn, you mother! Hecuba Alas! Chorus Wail for the dead. Hecuba Woe is me! Chorus Woe indeed for your unending sorrow! Hecuba Your wounds in part I will bind up with bandages, a wretched healer in name alone, without reality; but for the rest your father must look to that among the dead.