SCENE IV

_Chorus of Trojan Women._

What country calls the captives? Tempe dark? Or the Thessalian hills? or Phthia's land Famous for warriors? Trachin's stony plains, Breeders of cattle? or the great sea's queen, 840 Iolchos? or the spacious land of Crete Boasting its hundred towns? Gortyna small? Or sterile Tricca? or Mothone crossed By swift and frequent rivers? She who lies Beneath the shadow of the Œtean woods, 845 Whose hostile bowmen came, not once alone, Against the walls of Troy? Or Olenos whose homes lie far apart? Or Pleuron, hateful to the virgin god? Or Trœzen on the ocean's curving shore? 850 Or Pelion, mounting heavenward, the realm Of haughty Prothous? There in a vast cave Great Chiron, teacher of the savage child, Struck with his plectrum from the sounding strings Wild music, stirred the boy with songs of war. 855 Perchance Carystus, for its marbles famed, Calls us; or Chalcis, lying on the coast Of the unquiet sea whose hastening tide Beats up the strait; Calydna's wave-swept shore; Or stormy Genoessa; or the isle 860 Of Peparethus near the seaward line Of Attica; Enispe smitten oft By Boreas; or Eleusis, reverenced For Ceres' holy, secret mysteries? Or shall we seek great Ajax' Salamis? 865 Or Calydon the home of savage beasts? Or countries that the Titaressus laves With its slow waters? Scarphe, Pylos old, Or Bessus, Pharis, Pisa, Elis famed For the Olympian games? 870 It matters not what tempest drives us hence, Or to what land it bears us, so we shun Sparta, the curse alike of Greece and Troy; Nor seek the land of Argos, nor the home Of cruel Pelops, Neritus hemmed in 875 By narrower limits than Zacynthus small, Nor threatening cliffs of rocky Ithaca. O Hecuba, what fate, what land, what lord Remains for thee? In whose realm meetst thou death?