Molossus.
Ah me, the torture looming
O'er me, o'er thee!—the coming,
Mother, of what dread thing?
Menelaus.
Down, down to the grave!—from our foemen's towers
Ye came: and for several cause unto slaughter
Ye twain be constrainèd. The sentence is ours
That condemneth thee, woman: this boy my daughter
Hermionê dooms. Utter folly it were 520
For our foemen's avenging their offspring to spare,
When into our hands they be given to slay,
That fear from our house may be banished for aye.
Andromache.
(Ant.)
Oh for that hand I cry on!
Ah husband, to rely on
Thy spear, O Priam's scion!
Molossus.
Ah woe is me! What spell
Find I for doom's undoing?
Andromache.
Pray, at thy lord's knees suing,
Child!
Molossus (kneeling to Menelaus).
Friend, in mercy ruing 530
My death, of pardon tell!
