Slew him, nor in his thoughts of murder found
Room for a grave, but cast him mid the sea.
And I—a slave I may be, haply weak;
Yet are the Gods strong, and their ruler strong,
Even Law; for by this Law we know Gods are,800
And live, and make division of wrong and right:
And if this at thy bar be disannulled,
And they shall render not account which slay
Guests, or dare rifle the Gods' holy things,
Then among men is there no righteousness.805
This count then shameful; have respect to me;
Pity me:—like a painter so draw back,[1]
Scan me, pore on my portraiture of woes.
A queen was I, time was, but now thy slave;
Crowned with fair sons once, childless now and old,810
Cityless, lone, of mortals wretchedest.
Woe for me!—whither wouldst withdraw thy foot?
Meseems I shall not speed—O hapless I!
Wherefore, O wherefore, at all other lore
Toil men, as needeth, and make eager quest,815
Yet Suasion, the unrivalled queen of men,
Nor price we pay, nor make ado to learn her
Unto perfection, so a man might sway
His fellows as he would, and win his ends?
How then shall any hope good days henceforth?820
- ↑ This transition will not appear abrupt and artificial if we suppose that Agamemnon, apprehensive of the obligation thrust upon him, makes a movement to draw back, which Hecuba, with the quick wit of desperation, converts to a simile which arrests him till l. 812, when she is driven to make a more direct appeal to his sense of honour. Note, that she uses just such words as a Greek painter might have used in pointing out to a patron the merits of his work—"ἰδοῦ, κἀνάθρησον οἷ ἔχει καλά."
