Upon Helen the sister of Zeus' sons hurling back,
And on Paris, fell shepherd of Ida, curses black,
Who from mine home
By their bridal had reft me—'twas bridal none, but wrack950
Devil-wrought:—to her fatherland home o'er yon sea-track
Ne'er may she come!
Enter Polymestor with his two little sons attended by a guard of Thracian spearmen.
Polymestor.
Priam of men most dear!—and dearest thou,
Hecuba, I weep beholding thee,
Thy city, and thine offspring slain so late.955
Nought is there man may trust, nor high repute,
Nor hope that weal shall not be turned to woe:
But the Gods all confound, hurled forth and back,
Turmoiling them, that we through ignorance
May worship them:—what skills it to make moan960
For this, outrunning evils none the more?
But if mine absence thou dost chide, forbear;
For in the mid-Thrace tracts afar was I
When thou cam'st hither: soon as I returned,
At point was I to hasten forth mine home;965
When lo, for this same end thine handmaid came
Telling a tale whose tidings winged mine haste.
Hecuba.
I shame to look thee in the face, who lie,
O Polymestor, in such depth of ills.
