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THE TROJAN WOMEN
{She Jails, then struggles to her knees)
I am coming.
Oh, I have lost my child, my own.
Talthybius. — {Drawing the child away)
Come boy, let go. Unclasp those loving hands, poor mother.
Come now, up, boy, up, to the very height, where the towers of your fathers crown the wall and where it is decreed that you must die.
{To the soldier)
Take him away.
A herald who must bring such orders should be a man who feels no pity, and no shame either, not like me.
Hecuba. — Child, son of my poor son, whose toil was all in vain, we are robbed, yotir mother and I, oh cruelly, robbed of your life.
What can I do for you, poor piteous child ?
Troy lost, now you, all lost.
My cup is full. Why wait ? For what ?
Hasten on, swiftly on to death. . . .
Mantle. — The soldiers, who have waited while Hecuba speaks, go out with the child and Talthybius. One of them takes Andromache to the chariot and drives off with her.
Sound. — Chariot drives ojff. The chorus again lament the Jail oj Troy, calling to mind the glories oJ the city's past . . . IAMBIC BEAT.
Chorus. — The shores of the sea are wailing for Troy.
As a bird cries over her young, women weep for husbands, for children, for the old too who gave them birth.
While Priam’s land
lies ruined by Greek spearmen.
Hope was high once over our town,
but the magic that brought her the love of the gods
has gone from Troy. . . .
Mantle. — The chorus ends, and Menelaus, husband of the beautiful Helen, enters with a bodyguard of soldiers.
Sound. — Fanjare and soldiers.
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