The Trojan women of Euripides | Page 7

ye, For him that is doomed
of old To be lord of me!
LEADER.
O hold the damsel, lest her trancèd feet Lift her afar, Queen, toward the
Hellene fleet!
HECUBA.
O Fire, Fire, where men make marriages Surely thou hast thy lot; but
what are these Thou bringest flashing? Torches savage-wild And far
from mine old dreams.--Alas, my child, How little dreamed I then of
wars or red Spears of the Greek to lay thy bridal bed! Give me thy

brand; it hath no holy blaze Thus in thy frenzy flung. Nor all thy days
Nor all thy griefs have changed them yet, nor learned Wisdom.--Ye
women, bear the pine half burned To the chamber back; and let your
drownèd eyes Answer the music of these bridal cries!
[She takes the torch and gives it to one of the women.
CASSANDRA.
O Mother, fill mine hair with happy flowers, And speed me forth. Yea,
if my spirit cowers, Drive me with wrath! So liveth Loxias[20], A
bloodier bride than ever Helen was Go I to Agamemnon, Lord most
high Of Hellas!... I shall kill him, mother; I Shall kill him, and lay
waste his house with fire As he laid ours. My brethren and my sire
Shall win again....[21]
(Checking herself) But part I must let be, And speak not. Not the axe
that craveth me, And more than me; not the dark wanderings Of
mother-murder that my bridal brings, And all the House of Atreus
down, down, down....
Nay, I will show thee. Even now this town Is happier than the Greeks. I
know the power Of God is on me: but this little hour, Wilt thou but
listen, I will hold him back!
One love, one woman's beauty, o'er the track Of hunted Helen, made
their myriads fall. And this their King so wise[22], who ruleth all, What
wrought he? Cast out Love that Hate might feed: Gave to his brother
his own child, his seed Of gladness, that a woman fled, and fain To fly
for ever, should be turned again!
So the days waned, and armies on the shore Of Simois stood and strove
and died. Wherefore? No man had moved their landmarks; none had
shook Their wallèd towns.--And they whom Ares took, Had never seen
their children: no wife came With gentle arms to shroud the limbs of
them For burial, in a strange and angry earth Laid dead. And there at
home, the same long dearth: Women that lonely died, and aged men
Waiting for sons that ne'er should turn again, Nor know their graves,

nor pour drink-offerings, To still the unslakèd dust. These be the things
The conquering Greek hath won!
But we--what pride, What praise of men were sweeter?--fighting died
To save our people. And when war was red Around us, friends upbore
the gentle dead Home, and dear women's heads about them wound
White shrouds, and here they sleep in the old ground Belovèd. And the
rest long days fought on, Dwelling with wives and children, not alone
And joyless, like these Greeks.
And Hector's woe, What is it? He is gone, and all men know His glory,
and how true a heart he bore. It is the gift the Greek hath brought! Of
yore Men saw him not, nor knew him. Yea, and even Paris[23] hath
loved withal a child of heaven: Else had his love but been as others are.
Would ye be wise, ye Cities, fly from war! Yet if war come, there is a
crown in death For her that striveth well and perisheth Unstained: to die
in evil were the stain! Therefore, O Mother, pity not thy slain, Nor Troy,
nor me, the bride. Thy direst foe And mine by this my wooing is
brought low.
TALTHYBIUS (at last breaking through the spell that has held him).
I swear, had not Apollo made thee mad, Not lightly hadst thou flung
this shower of bad Bodings, to speed my General o'er the seas! 'Fore
God, the wisdoms and the greatnesses Of seeming, are they hollow all,
as things Of naught? This son of Atreus, of all kings Most mighty, hath
so bowed him to the love Of this mad maid, and chooseth her above All
women! By the Gods, rude though I be, I would not touch her hand!
Look thou; I see Thy lips are blind, and whatso words they speak,
Praises of Troy or shamings of the Greek, I cast to the four winds!
Walk at my side In peace!... And heaven content him of his bride!
[He moves as though to go, but turns to HECUBA, and speaks more
gently.
And thou shalt follow to Odysseus' host When the word comes. 'Tis a
wise queen[24] thou go'st To serve, and gentle: so the Ithacans say.

CASSANDRA