Parodos
[Choral]
Lift your head, unhappy one, from the ground; raise up your neck; this is Troy no more,
Hecuba
no longer am I queen in Ilium. Though fortune change, endure your lot; sail with the stream, and follow fortune’s tack, do not steer your ship of life against the tide, since chance must guide your course.
100
Ah me! ah me! What else but tears is now my hapless lot, whose country, children, husband, all are lost? Ah! the high-blown pride of ancestors, humbled! how brought to nothing after all!
105
What woe must I suppress, or what declare? What plaintive dirge shall I awake? Ah, woe is me! the anguish I suffer lying here stretched upon this hard pallet!
110
O my head, my temples, my side! How I long to turn over, and lie now on this, now on that, to rest my back and spine, while ceaselessly my tearful wail ascends.
115
For even this is music to the wretched, to chant their cheerless dirge of sorrow.
120
You swift-prowed ships, rowed to sacred Ilium over the deep dark sea,
past the fair havens of Hellas, to the flute’s ill-omened music and the dulcet voice of pipes,
125
to the bays of Troy, alas! where you tied your hawsers, twisted handiwork from Egypt, in quest of that hateful wife of Menelaus, who brought disgrace on Castor, and on Eurotas foul reproach; who murdered
130
Priam, the father of fifty children; the cause why I, the unhappy Hecuba, have wrecked my life upon this disastrous strand. Oh that I should sit here, over against the tent of Agamemnon!
135
As a slave I am led away from my home, an old woman, while from my head the hair is piteously shorn for grief. Ah! unhappy wives of those armored sons of Troy! Ah! poor maidens, luckless brides,
140
come weep, for Ilium is now a smouldering ruin; and I, like some mother-bird that over her fledgelings screams, will begin the strain; not the same as that
145
I once sang to the gods, as I leaned on Priam’s staff and beat with my foot in Phrygian time to lead the dance!
150
[Choral 1]
O Hecuba! why these cries, these piercing shrieks? What do your words mean? For I heard your piteous wail
First Semi-Chorus
echo through the building, and a pang of terror shoots through each captive Trojan’s breast, as within these walls they mourn their slavish lot.
155
Hecuba
My child, even now at the ships of the Argives—
First Semi-Chorus
This part of the line is assigned to Hecuba in the translation and has been moved to align with the Greek.The rower’s hand is busy?
160
Ah, woe is me! what is their intent? Will they really carry me away from my country in their fleet?
Hecuba
I do not know, though I guess our doom.
First Semi-Chorus
O misery!
woe to us Trojan women, soon to hear of our troubles: Come out of the house, the Argives are preparing to return.
165
Hecuba
Oh! please do not bid the
wild Cassandra leave her chamber, the frantic prophetess, for Argives to insult, nor to my griefs add yet another. Woe to you, ill-fated Troy, Troy, your sun is set; and woe to your unhappy children, living and dead alike,
170
who are leaving you behind!
175
Second Semi-Chorus
With trembling step, alas! I leave this tent of Agamemnon to learn of you, my royal mistress, whether the Argives have resolved to take my wretched life, or
whether the sailors at the prow are making ready to ply their oars.
180
Hecuba
My child, your wakeful heart!
Second Semi-Chorus
I have come, stricken with terror. Has a herald from the Danaids already arrived?
To whom am I, poor captive, given as a slave?
185
Hecuba
You are not far from being allotted now.
