And in men's eyes shalt thou too share this guilt:
Thy part in this her deed shall weigh thee down.
But if I 'scape your hands, that I die not,
Then will ye slay my son? And the child's death—
Think ye his sire shall hold it a little thing? 340
So void of manhood Troy proclaims him not.
Nay, he shall follow duty's call, be proved,
By deeds, of Peleus worthy and Achilles.
He shall thrust forth thy child. What plea wilt find[1]
For a new spouse?—This lie—"the saintly soul 345
Of this pure thing shrank from her wicked lord?"
Who shall wed such? Wilt keep her in thine halls
Spouseless, a grey-haired widow? O thou wretch,
Seest not the floods of evil bursting o'er thee?
How many a wedlock-wrong wouldst thou be fain 350
Thy child knew rather than the ills I name!
We ought not for slight cause court grievous harm;
Nor, if we women be a baleful curse,
Ought men to make their nature woman-like.
For, if I practise on thy child by philtres, 355
And seal her womb, according to her tale,
Willingly, nothing loth, nor low at altars
Crouching, myself will face the penalty
At her lord's hands, to whom I am guilty of wrong
No less, in blasting him with childlessness. 360
Hereon I stand:—but one thing in thy nature
I fear—'twas in a woman's quarrel too
Thou didst destroy the hapless Phrygians' town.
Chorus.
Thou hast said too much, as woman against man:
Yea, and thy soul's discretion hath shot wide. 365
- ↑ To explain away, when you wish to find her a new husband, the stigma of her previous divorce.
