Trojanwomen
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Original / primary: Perseus Eng2
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Poseidon
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From the depths of salt Aegean floods I, Poseidon, have come, where choirs of Nereids dance in a graceful maze; for since the day that Phoebus and I with exact measurement
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set towers of stone about this land of Troy and ringed it round, never from my heart has passed away a kindly feeling for my Phrygian town, which now is smouldering and overthrown, a prey to Argive might. For, from his home beneath Parnassus,
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Phocian Epeus, aided by the craft of Pallas, framed a horse to bear within its womb an armed army, and sent it within the battlements, a deadly statue;from which in days to come men shall tell of the Wooden Horse, with its hidden load of warriors.
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Groves stand forsaken and temples of the gods run down with blood, and at the altar’s very base, before the god who watched his home, Priam lies dead. While to Achaean ships great store of gold and Phrygian spoils are being conveyed,
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and they who came against this town, those sons of Hellas, only wait a favoring breeze to follow in their wake, that after ten long years they may with joy behold their wives and children. Vanquished by Hera, Argive goddess, and by Athena, who helped to ruin Phrygia,
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I am leaving Ilium, that famous town, and my altars; for when dreary desolation seizes on a town, the worship of the gods decays and tends to lose respect. Scamander’s banks re-echo long and loud the screams of captive maids, as they by lot receive their masters.
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Arcadia takes some, and some the people of Thessaly; others are assigned to Theseus’ sons, the Athenian chiefs. And such of the Trojan women as are not portioned out are in these tents, set apart for the leaders of the army; and with them Spartan Helen,
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daughter of Tyndareus, justly counted among the captives. And if you would see that queen of misery, Hecuba, you can; for there she lies before the gates, weeping many tears for many sorrows; at Achilles’ tomb,
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without her knowledge, her daughter Polyxena has died most piteously; Priam is gone, and her children too; Cassandra, whom the lord Apollo left to be a virgin, frenzied maid, has been forced by Agamemnon, in contempt of the god’s ordinance and of piety, to a dishonored wedlock.
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Farewell, O city once prosperous! farewell, you ramparts of polished stone! if Pallas, daughter of Zeus, had not decreed your ruin, you would be standing firmly still.
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Athena
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May I address the mighty god whom the gods revere and who to my own father is very near in blood,
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laying aside our former enmity?
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Poseidon
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You may; for over the soul the ties of kin exert no feeble spell, great queen Athena.
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Athena
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For your forgiving mood my thanks! I have messages to impart affecting both yourself and me, lord.
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Poseidon
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Do you bring fresh tidings from some god, from Zeus, or from some lesser power?
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Athena
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From none of these; but on behalf of Troy, whose soil we tread, I have come to seek your mighty aid, to make it one with mine.
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Poseidon
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What! have you laid your former hate aside
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to take compassion on the town now that it is burnt to ashes?
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Athena
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First go back to the former point; will you make common cause with me in the scheme I purpose?
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Poseidon
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Yes, surely; but I want to learn your wishes, whether you have come to help Achaeans or Phrygians.
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Athena
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I wish to give my former foes, the Trojans, joy, and on the Achaean army impose a bitter return.
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Poseidon
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Why do you leap thus from mood to mood? Your love and hate both go too far, on whomever centred.
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Athena
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Do you not know the insult done to me and to the shrine I love?
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Poseidon
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I do: when Aias dragged away Cassandra by force.
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Athena
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Yes, and the Achaeans did nothing, said nothing to him.
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Poseidon
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And yet it was by your mighty aid they sacked Ilium.
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Athena
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For which cause I would join with you to do them harm.
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Poseidon
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My powers are ready at your will. What is your intent?
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Athena
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I will impose on them a return that is no return.
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Poseidon
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While they stay on shore, or as they cross the salt sea?
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Athena
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When they have set sail from Ilium for their homes. On them will Zeus also send his rain and fearful hail,
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and inky tempests from the sky; and he promises to grant me his thunder-bolts to hurl on the Achaeans and fire their ships. And you, for your part, make the Aegean strait to roar with mighty billows and whirlpools, and fill Euboea’s hollow bay with corpses,
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that Achaeans may learn henceforth to reverence my temples and regard all other deities.
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Poseidon
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So shall it be, for this favor needs only a few words. I will vex the broad Aegean sea; and the beach of Myconos and the reefs round Delos,
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Scyros and Lemnos too, and the cliffs of Caphareus shall be strewn with many a corpse. You go to Olympus, and taking from your father’s hand his lightning bolts, keep careful watch against the hour when Argos’ army lets slip its cables.
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A fool is he who sacks the towns of men, with shrines and tombs, the dead man’s hallowed home, for at the last he makes a desert round himself and dies.
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Hecuba
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Lift your head, unhappy one, from the ground; raise up your neck; this is Troy no more,
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no longer am I queen in Ilium. Though fortune change, endure your lot; sail with the stream, and follow fortune’s tack, do not steer your ship of life against the tide, since chance must guide your course.
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Ah me! ah me! What else but tears is now my hapless lot, whose country, children, husband, all are lost? Ah! the high-blown pride of ancestors, humbled! how brought to nothing after all!
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What woe must I suppress, or what declare? What plaintive dirge shall I awake? Ah, woe is me! the anguish I suffer lying here stretched upon this hard pallet!
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O my head, my temples, my side! How I long to turn over, and lie now on this, now on that, to rest my back and spine, while ceaselessly my tearful wail ascends.
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For even this is music to the wretched, to chant their cheerless dirge of sorrow.
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Hecuba
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You swift-prowed ships, rowed to sacred Ilium over the deep dark sea,
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past the fair havens of Hellas, to the flute’s ill-omened music and the dulcet voice of pipes,
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to the bays of Troy, alas! where you tied your hawsers, twisted handiwork from Egypt, in quest of that hateful wife of Menelaus, who brought disgrace on Castor, and on Eurotas foul reproach; who murdered
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Priam, the father of fifty children; the cause why I, the unhappy Hecuba, have wrecked my life upon this disastrous strand. Oh that I should sit here, over against the tent of Agamemnon!
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As a slave I am led away from my home, an old woman, while from my head the hair is piteously shorn for grief. Ah! unhappy wives of those armored sons of Troy! Ah! poor maidens, luckless brides,
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come weep, for Ilium is now a smouldering ruin; and I, like some mother-bird that over her fledgelings screams, will begin the strain; not the same as that
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I once sang to the gods, as I leaned on Priam’s staff and beat with my foot in Phrygian time to lead the dance!
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First Semi-Chorus
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O Hecuba! why these cries, these piercing shrieks? What do your words mean? For I heard your piteous wail
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echo through the building, and a pang of terror shoots through each captive Trojan’s breast, as within these walls they mourn their slavish lot.
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Hecuba
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My child, even now at the ships of the Argives—
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First Semi-Chorus
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This part of the line is assigned to Hecuba in the translation and has been moved to align with the Greek.The rower’s hand is busy?
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Ah, woe is me! what is their intent? Will they really carry me away from my country in their fleet?
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Hecuba
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I do not know, though I guess our doom.
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First Semi-Chorus
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O misery!
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woe to us Trojan women, soon to hear of our troubles: Come out of the house, the Argives are preparing to return.
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Hecuba
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Oh! please do not bid the
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wild Cassandra leave her chamber, the frantic prophetess, for Argives to insult, nor to my griefs add yet another. Woe to you, ill-fated Troy, Troy, your sun is set; and woe to your unhappy children, living and dead alike,
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who are leaving you behind!
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Second Semi-Chorus
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With trembling step, alas! I leave this tent of Agamemnon to learn of you, my royal mistress, whether the Argives have resolved to take my wretched life, or
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whether the sailors at the prow are making ready to ply their oars.
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Hecuba
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My child, your wakeful heart!
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Second Semi-Chorus
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I have come, stricken with terror. Has a herald from the Danaids already arrived?
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To whom am I, poor captive, given as a slave?
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Hecuba
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You are not far from being allotted now.
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Second Semi-Chorus
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Alas! What man of Argos or Phthia will bear me in sorrow far from Troy, to his home, or to some island fastness?
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Hecuba
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Ah! ah! Whose slave shall I become in my old age? in what land? a poor old drone, the wretched copy of a corpse, alas! set to keep the gate
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or tend their children, I who once held royal rank in Troy.
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Chorus Leader
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But see! a herald from the army of Danaids, with a store of fresh proclamations, comes hastening here. What is his errand? What does he say? For we are indeed slaves now to Dorian lords.
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Talthybius
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Hecuba, you know me from my many journeys to and fro as herald between the Achaean army and Troy; I was no stranger to you, lady, even before: I, Talthybius, now sent with a fresh message.
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Hecuba
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Ah, kind friends, it has come! what I so long have dreaded.
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Talthybius
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The lot has decided your fates already, if that was what you feared.
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Hecuba
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Ah me! What city did you say, Thessalian, Phthian, or Cadmean?
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Talthybius
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Each warrior took his prize in turn; you were not all at once assigned.
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Hecuba
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To whom has the lot assigned us severally? Which of us Trojan women
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does a happy fortune await?
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Talthybius
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I know, but ask your questions separately, not all at once.
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Hecuba
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Then tell me, whose prize is my daughter, hapless Cassandra?
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Talthybius
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King Agamemnon has chosen her out for himself.
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Hecuba
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To be the slave-girl of his Spartan wife? Ah me!
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Talthybius
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No, to share with him his stealthy love.
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Hecuba
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What! Phoebus’ virgin-priestess, to whom the god with golden locks granted the gift of maidenhood?
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Talthybius
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The dart of love has pierced his heart, love for the frenzied maid.
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Hecuba
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Daughter, cast from you the sacred keys, and from your body tear the holy wreaths that drape you in their folds.
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Talthybius
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Why! is it not an honor that she should win our monarch’s love?
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Hecuba
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What have you done to her whom recently you took from me, my child?
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Talthybius
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Do you mean Polyxena, or whom do you inquire about?
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Hecuba
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Yes, that one; to whom has the lot assigned her?
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Talthybius
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To minister at Achilles’ tomb has been appointed her.
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Hecuba
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Woe is me! I the mother of a dead man’s slave! What custom, what ordinance is this among Hellenes, friend?
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Talthybius
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Count your daughter happy; it is well with her.
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Hecuba
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What wild words are these? Please tell me, is she still alive?
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Talthybius
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Her fate is one that sets her free from trouble.
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Hecuba
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And what of the wife of Hector skilled in arms, sad Andromache? declare her fate.
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Talthybius
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She too was a chosen prize; Achilles’ son took her.
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Hecuba
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As for me
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whose hair is white with age, who need to hold a staff to be to me a third foot, whose servant am I to be?
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Talthybius
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Odysseus, king of Ithaca, has taken you to be his slave.
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Hecuba
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Oh, oh! Now smite the close-shorn head!