Part 15

HEC. Wretch that I am, alas! Too clearly now I understand the riddle Which in obscurer terms Talthybius uttered.

AND. I saw her bleed, and lighting from this car Covered her with the decent shroud and wailed O’er her remains.

HEC. Alas! alas! my child To bloody altars dragged by impious hands, Alas! alas! how basely wert thou slain!

AND. Most dreadfully she perished; yet her lot Who perished is more enviable than mine.

HEC. Far different, O my daughter, is the state Of them who live, from them who breathe no more: For the deceased are nothing: but fair hope, While life remains, can never be extinct.

AND. Thou whom, although I sprung not from thy womb, I deem a mother, to my cheering words With patience listen, they will yield delight To thy afflicted soul. ’Tis the same thing Ne’er to be born, or die; but better far To die, than to live wretched: for no sorrow Affects th’ unconscious tenant of the grave. But he who once was happy, he who falls From fortune’s summit down the vale of woe, With an afflicted spirit wanders o’er The scenes of past delight. In the cold grave, Like one who never saw the blessed sun, Polyxena remembers not her woes. But I who aimed the dextrous shaft, and gained An ample portion of renown, have missed The mark of happiness. In Hector’s house I acted as behoves each virtuous dame. First, whether sland’rous tongues assail or spare The matron’s chastity, an evil name, Her who remains not at her home, pursues: Such vain desires I therefore quelled, I stayed In my own chamber, a domestic life Preferring, and forbore to introduce Vain sentimental language, such as gains Too oft the ear of woman: ’twas enough For me to yield obedience to the voice Of virtue, that best monitor. My lord With placid aspect and a silent tongue I still received, for I that province knew In which I ought to rule, and when to yield Submission to a husband’s will. The fame This conduct gained me, reached the Grecian camp, And proved my ruin: for when I became A captive, Neoptolemus resolved To take me to his bed, and in the house Of murderers I to slavery am consigned. If shaking off my Hector’s loved remembrance To this new husband I my soul incline, I shall appear perfidious to the dead; Or, if I hate Achilles’ son, become Obnoxious to my lords; though some assert That one short night can reconcile th’ aversion Of any woman to the nuptial couch; I scorn that widow, reft of her first lord, Who listens to the voice of love, and weds Another. From her comrade torn, the mare Sustains the yoke reluctant, though a brute Dumb and irrational, by nature formed Subordinate to man: but I in thee Possessed a husband, O my dearest Hector, In wisdom, fortune, and illustrious birth, For me sufficient, great in martial deeds: A spotless virgin-bride, me from the house Of my great father, didst thou first receive; But thou art slain, and I to Greece must sail A captive, and endure the servile yoke! Is not the death of that Polyxena, Whom thou, O Hecuba, bewail’st, an ill More tolerable than those which I endure? For hope, who visits every wretch beside, To me ne’er comes; to me no promised joys Afford a flattering prospect to deceive This anxious bosom; for ’tis sweet to think E’en of ideal bliss.

CHOR. Thou art involved In the same sufferings, and in plaintive notes Bewailing thy calamity, inform’st me What treatment to expect.

HEC. I ne’er did mount A ship, yet I from pictures and report These matters know: amidst a moderate storm, Such as they hope to weather out, the sailors To save themselves, exert a cheerful toil: This to the rudder, to the shattered sails That goes, a third laborious at the pump Draws off the rising waters; but if vanquished By the tempestuous ocean’s rage, they yield To fortune, and consigning to the waves Their vessel, are at random driven along. Thus I am mute beneath unnumbered woes, Nor can this tongue expatiate, for the gods Such torrents pour as drown my feeble voice! But, O my daughter, cease to name the fate Of slaughtered Hector, whom no tears can save. Pay due attention to thy present lord, With amorous glances and a fond compliance Receiving him; act thus, and thou wilt cheer Our friends, and this my grandson educate A bulwark to fallen Ilion, that his race The city may rebuild, and dwell in Troy. But a fresh topic of discourse ensues. What servant of the Greeks do I behold Again draw near, t’ announce some new design?

TALTHYBIUS, ANDROMACHE, HECUBA, CHORUS.

TAL. O thou who erst wert Hector’s wife, that bravest Of Phrygians, hate me not; for with reluctance Will I the general sentence of the Greeks And Pelops’ progeny, announce.

AND. What means This evil prelude.

TAL. ’Tis decreed thy son— How shall I speak it?

AND. To a separate lord Shall be consigned?

TAL. None of the Grecian chiefs Shall ever o’er Astyanax bear rule.

AND. Must I leave here, him who alone remains Of all that erst was dear to me in Troy?

TAL. Alas! I know not in what terms t’ express The miseries that await thee?

AND. I commend Such modesty, provided thou canst speak Aught to afford me comfort.

TAL. They resolve To slay thy son; thou hear’st my dismal errand.

AND. Ah me! thou hast unfolded to these ears An evil, greater than my menaced spousals.

TAL. By his harangues to the assembled Greeks, Ulysses hath prevailed.

AND. Alas! alas! Immoderate are the sorrows I endure.

TAL. Saying they ought not to train up the son Of that heroic sire.

AND. May he obtain O’er his own children triumphs great as these!

TAL. He from the towers of Ilion must be thrown: But I entreat thee, and thou hence shall seem More prudent, strive not to withhold thy son, But bear thy woes with firmness; nor, though weak, Deem thyself strong; for thou hast no support, And therefore must consider that thy city Is overthrown, thy husband is no more, Thou art reduced to servitude; and we Are strong enough to combat with one woman: O therefore brave not this unequal strife, Stoop not to aught that’s base, nor yet revile, Nor idly scatter curses on thy foes; For if thou utter aught that may provoke The anger of the host, thy son will bleed Unburied and unwept: but if thou bear With silence and composure thy misfortunes, Funereal honours shall adorn his grave, And Greece to thee her lenity extend.

AND. Thee, O my dearest son, thy foes will slay; Soon art thou doomed to leave thy wretched mother. What saves the lives of others, the renown Of an illustrious sire, to thee will prove The cause of death: by this paternal fame Art thou attended in an evil hour. To me how luckless proved the genial bed, And those espousals, that to Hector’s house First brought me, when I trusted I should bear A son, no victim to the ruthless Greeks, But an illustrious Asiatic king. Weep’st thou, my son? dost thou perceive thy woes? Why cling to me with timid hands? Why seize My garment? thus beneath its mother’s wings The callow bird is sheltered. From the tomb, No Hector brandishing his massive spear Rushes to saves thee; no intrepid kinsman Of thy departed father, nor the might Of Phrygian hosts is here: but from aloof Borne headlong by a miserable leap, Shalt thou pour forth thy latest gasp of life Unpitied. Tender burden in the arms Of thy fond mother! what ambrosial odours Breathed from thy lips? I swathed thee to my breast In vain, I toiled in vain, and wore away My strength with fruitless labours. Yet embrace Thy mother once again; around my neck Entwine thine arms, and give one parting kiss. Ye Greeks, who studiously invent new modes Of unexampled cruelty, why slay This guiltless infant? Helen, O thou daughter Of Tyndarus, never didst thou spring from Jove, But I pronounce thee born of many sires, An evil Genius, Envy, Slaughter, Death, And every evil that from Earth receives Its nourishment; nor dare I to assert That Jove himself begot a pest like thee, Fatal to Greece and each barbarian chief. Perdition overtake thee! for those eyes By their seducing glances have o’erthrown The Phrygian empire. Bear this child away, And cast him from the turrets if ye list, Then banquet on his quivering flesh: the gods Ordain that I shall perish: nor from him Can I repel the stroke of death. Conceal This wretched form from public view, and plunge me In the ship’s hold; for I have lost my son, Such the blest prelude to my nuptial rite.

CHOR. Thy myriads, hapless Ilion, did expire In combat for one woman, to maintain Paris’ accursed espousals.

AND. Cease, my child, Fondly to lisp thy wretched mother’s name, Ascend the height of thy paternal towers, Whence ’tis by Greece decreed thy parting breath Shall issue. Take him hence. Aloud proclaim This deed ye merciless: that wretch alone Who never knew the blush of virtuous shame, Your sentence can applaud.

[_Exeunt_ ANDROMACHE _and_ TALTHYBIUS.

HEC. O child, thou son Of my unhappy Hector, from thy mother And me thou unexpectedly art torn. What can I do, what help afford? for thee I smite this head, this miserable breast; Thus far my power extends. Alas! thou city, And, O my grandson! is there yet a curse Beyond what we have felt? remains there aught To save us from the yawning gulf of ruin?

CHORUS.

ODE.

I. 1.

In Salamis’ profound retreat Famed for the luscious treasures of the bee, High raised above th’ encircling sea Thou, Telamon, didst fix thy regal seat; Near to those sacred hills, where spread The olive first its fragrant sprays, To form a garland for Minerva’s head, And the Athenian splendor raise: With the famed archer, with Alcmena’s son Thou cam’st exulting with vindictive joy; By your confederate arms was Ilion won, When from thy Greece thou cam’st our city to destroy.

I. 2.

Repining for the promised steeds, From Greece Alcides led a chosen band, With hostile prows th’ indented strand He reached, and anchored near fair Simois’ meads; Selected from each ship, he led Those who with dextrous hand could wing Th’ unerring shaft, till slaughter reached thy head, Laomedon, thou perjured king: Those battlements which Phœbus’ self did rear The victor wasted with devouring flame; Twice o’er Troy’s walls hath waved the hostile spear, Twice have insulting shouts announced Dardania’s shame.

II. 1.

Thou bear’st the sparkling wine in vain With step effeminate, O Phrygian boy, Erewhile didst thou approach with joy To fill the goblet of imperial Jove; For now thy Troy lies levelled with the plain, And its thick smoke ascends the realms above. On th’ echoing coast our plaints we vent, As feathered songsters o’er their young bewail, A child or husband these lament, And those behold their captive mothers sail: The founts where thou didst bathe, th’ athletic sports, Are now no more. Each blooming grace Sheds charms unheeded o’er thy placid face, And thou frequent’st Heaven’s splendid courts. Triumphant Greece hath levelled in the dust The throne where Priam ruled the virtuous and the just.

II. 2.

With happier auspices, O love. Erst didst thou hover o’er this fruitful plain, Hence caught the gods thy thrilling pain; By thee embellished, Troy’s resplendent towers Reared their proud summits blest by thundering Jove, For our allies were the celestial powers. But I no longer will betray Heaven’s ruler to reproach and biting shame. The white-winged morn, blest source of day, Who cheers the nations with her kindling flame, Beheld these walls demolished, and th’ abode Of that dear prince who shared her bed In fragments o’er the wasted champaign spread: While swift along the starry road, Her golden car his country’s guardian bore: False was each amorous god, and Ilion is no more.

MENELAUS, HECUBA, CHORUS.

MEN. Hail, O ye solar beams, who on this day, When I my consort Helen shall regain Your radiance shed. For I am he who long Endured the toils of battle, Menelaus, Attended by the Grecian host. To Troy, Not in a woman’s cause, as many deem, I came, but came to punish him who broke The laws of hospitality, and ravished My consort from my palace. He hath suffered As he deserved, such was the will of Heaven, He and his country by the spear of Greece Have been destroyed. But I am come to bear That Spartan dame away, whom with regret I term my consort, though she once was mine. But she beneath these tents is with the rest Of Phrygia’s captives numbered: for the troops Whose arms redeemed her, have to me consigned That I might either take away, or spare Her life, and waft her to the Argive coast. I am resolved that Helen shall not bleed In Troy, but o’er the foaming waves to Greece Will I convey her, and to them whose friends Before yon walls were slain, surrender up To perish by their vengeance. But with speed Enter the tent, thence by that hair defiled With murder, O my followers, drag her forth, And hither bring: for when a prosperous breeze Arises, her will I to Greece convey.

HEC. O thou who mov’st the world, and in this earth Hast fixed thy station, whosoe’er thou art, Impervious to our reason, whether thou, O Jove, art dread necessity which rules All nature, or that soul which animates The breasts of mortals, thee do I adore, For in a silent path thou tread’st and guid’st With justice the affairs of man.

MEN. What means This innovation in the solemn prayer You to the gods address?

HEC. I shall applaud The stroke, O Menelaus, if thou slay Thy wife; but soon as thou behold’st her, fly, Lest she with love ensnare thee. For the eyes Of men she captivates, o’erturns whole cities, And fires the roofs of lofty palaces, She is possessed of such resistless charms; Both I and thou and thousands to their cost, Alas! are sensible how great her power.

HELEN, MENELAUS, HECUBA, CHORUS.

HEL. O Menelaus, this is sure a prelude To greater horrors. For with brutal hands I by your servants from these tents am dragged? Too well I know you hate me, yet would learn, How you and Greece have of my life disposed.

MEN. Thou by the utmost rigour of the laws Hast not been sentenced; but the host, to me Whom thou hast wronged, consign thee to be slain.

HEL. May not I answer to these harsh resolves, That if I bleed, unjustly shall I bleed?

MEN. I came not hither to debate, but slay thee?

HEC. Hear her, nor let her die, O Menelaus, Without this privilege. Me too allow To make reply to her defence; for nought Of the foul deeds, which she in Troy committed Yet know’st thou: if united, the whole tale Must force thee to destroy her, and preclude All means of her escaping.

MEN. An indulgence Like this supposes leisure to attend; However, if she have a wish to speak, She may: but be assured, that my compliance To your request is owing, for such favour To her I would not grant.

HEL. Perhaps with me Whom you account a foe, you will not deign, Whether I seem to utter truth or falsehood, To parley. But to each malignant charge With which, O Hecuba, I know thou com’st Prepared against me, will I make reply, And to o’erbalance all that thou canst urge Produce recriminations. First, she bore Paris, the author of these mischiefs, next Did aged Priam ruin Troy and me, When erst that infant he forbore to slay, That baleful semblance of a flaming torch! Hear what ensued; by Paris were the claims Of the three rival goddesses decided. The gift Minerva proffered; that commanding The Phrygians, he should conquer Greece; while Juno Promised, that he his empire should extend From Asia to remotest Europe’s bounds, If he to her adjudged the golden prize; But Venus, who in rapturous terms extolled My charms, engaged that as the great reward She would on him bestow me; to her beauty If o’er each goddess he the preference gave. Observe the sequel: Venus, o’er Minerva And Juno, gained the triumph; and my nuptials Thus far have been a benefit to Greece; Ye are not subject to barbarian lords, Crushed by invasion, or tyrannic power. But I my ruin owe to what my country Hath found thus advantageous, for my charms To Paris sold, and branded with disgrace, E’en for such deeds as merited a wreath To crown these brows. But you may urge, that all I have alleged is of no real weight, Because by stealth I from your palace fled. Accompanied by no mean goddess, came That evil genius, sprung from Hecuba, Distinguish him by either name you list, Paris or Alexander, in your house, Whom, O delirious, you behind you left, And sailed from Sparta to the Cretan isle. Well, be it so. Of my own heart, not you I in regard to all that hence ensued Will ask the question. What could have induced me, Following that stranger, to forsake my home, False to my native land? impute the guilt To Venus, and assume a power, beyond E’en that of Jove, who rules th’ inferior gods But yields to her behests. My crime was venial; Yet hence you may allege a specious charge Against me; since to earth’s dark vaults the corse Of Paris was consigned, no longer bound Through Heaven’s supreme decree in nuptial chains, I to the Grecian fleet should have escaped From Ilion’s palace; such was my design: This can the guards of Troy’s beleaguered towers, And sentinels who on the walls were stationed, Attest, that oft they caught me, as with ropes By stealth I strove to light upon the ground; But a new husband, fierce Deiphobus, Obtained me for a wife by brutal force, Though every Phrygian disapproved. What law Can sentence me, whom ’gainst my will he wedded, By you, my lord, with justice to be slain? But for the benefits through me derived To Greece, I in the stead of laureate wreaths With slavery am requited. If you wish To overcome the gods’ supreme behests, That very wish were folly.

CHOR. O my Queen, Assert thy children’s and thy country’s cause, ’Gainst her persuasive language, for she speaks With eloquence, though guilty: curst imposture!

HEC. I those three goddesses will first defend, And prove that she has uttered vile untruths: For of such madness ne’er can I suspect Juno and Pallas that immortal maid, As that the first should to barbarian tribes Propose to sell her Argos, or Minerva To make her Athens subject to the Phrygians: Seeking in sportive strife the palm of beauty They came to Ida’s mount. For through what motive Could Juno with such eagerness have wished Her charms might triumph? to obtain a husband Greater than Jove? could Pallas, who besought Her sire she ever might remain a virgin, Propose to wed some deity? Forbear To represent these goddesses as foolish, That thy transgressions may by their example Be justified: thou never canst persuade The wise. Thou hast presumed t’ assert (but this Was a ridiculous pretence) that Venus Came with my son to Menelaus’ house. Could she not calmly have abode in Heaven, Yet wafted thee and all Amycla’s city To Ilion? but the beauty of my son Was great, and thy own heart, when thou beheld’st him Became thy Venus: for whatever folly Prevails, is th’ Aphrodite of mankind: That of Love’s goddess, justly doth commence With the same letters as an idiot’s name. Him didst thou see in a barbaric vest With gold refulgent, and thy wanton heart Was thence inflamed with love, for thou wert poor While yet thou didst reside in Greece; but leaving The Spartan regions, thou didst hope, the city Of Troy, with gold o’erflowing, could support Thy prodigality; for the revenues Of Menelaus far too scanty proved For thy luxuriant appetites: but sayst thou That Paris bore thee thence by force? what Spartan Saw this? or, with what cries didst thou invoke Castor or Pollux, thy immortal brothers, Who yet on earth remained, nor had ascended The starry height? But since thou cam’st to Troy, And hither the confederate troops of Greece Tracing thy steps, began the bloody strife, Whene’er thou heard’st that Menelaus prospered Him didst thou praise, and make my son to grieve That such a mighty rival shared thy love: But if the Trojan army proved victorious, He shrunk into a thing of nought. On Fortune Still didst thou look, still deaf to Virtue’s call Follow her banners: yet dost thou assert That thou by cords hast from the lofty towers In secrecy attempted to descend, As if thou here hadst been constrained to stay? Where then wert thou surprised, or sharpened sword, Or ropes preparing, as each generous dame Who sought her former husband would have done? Oft have I counselled thee in many words: “Depart, O daughter, that my sons may take Brides less obnoxious: thee aboard the ships Of Greece, assisting in thy secret flight, Will I convey. O end the war ’twixt Greece And Ilion.” But to thee was such advice Unwelcome; for with pride thou in the house Of Paris didst behave thyself, and claim The adoration of barbaric tribes, For this was thy great object. But e’en now Thy charms displaying, clad in gorgeous vest Dost thou go forth, still daring to behold That canopy of Heaven which o’erhangs Thy injured husband; thou detested woman! Whom it had suited, if in tattered vest Shivering, with tresses shorn, in Scythian guise Thou hadst appeared, and for transgressions past Deep smitten with remorse, assumed the blush Of virtuous matrons, not that frontless air. O Menelaus! I will now conclude; By slaying her, prepare for Greece the wreaths It merits, and extend to the whole sex This law, that every woman who betrays Her lord shall die.