Stasimon 3
[Episode]
True; still I have a mean opinion of the female race.
885
Hecuba
What? did not women slay the sons of Aegyptus, and utterly clear Lemnos of men? But let it be thus; put an end to our conference, and send this woman for me safely through the army.
To a servant And you are to draw near my Thracian friend and say, Hecuba, once queen of Ilium, summons you, on your own business no less than hers, your children too, for they also must hear what she has to say. The servant goes out. Defer awhile, Agamemnon,
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the burial of Polyxena lately slain, so that brother and sister may be laid on the same pyre and buried side by side, a double cause of sorrow to their mother.
895
Agamemnon
So shall it be; yet if the army were able to sail, I could not have granted you this favor;
but as it is, for the god sends forth no favoring breeze, the army must wait and look for a calm voyage. Good luck to you, for this is the interest alike of individual and state, that the wrong-doer be punished and the good man prosper. Agamemnon departs as Hecuba withdraws into the tent.
900
[Choral 1]
No more, my native Ilium, shall you be counted among the towns never sacked; so thick a cloud of Hellene troops is settling all around, wasting you with the spear;
905
Chorus
you are shorn of your crown of towers, and fouled most piteously with filthy soot; no more, ah me! shall I tread your streets.
910
It was in the middle of the night my ruin came,
in the hour when sleep steals sweetly over the eyes after the feast is done. After the music and dancing, my husband had brought the sacrifice to an end and was lying in our bridal-chamber,
915
his spear hung on a peg; with never a thought of the sailor-throng encamped upon the Trojan shores.
920
[Choral 2]
And I was braiding my tresses beneath a tight-drawn head-band
Chorus
before my golden mirror’s countless rays, so that I might lie down to rest; when through the city rose a din, and a cry went ringing down the streets of Troy: You
925
sons of Hellas, when, oh! when will you sack the citadel of Ilium, and seek your homes?
930
I left my bed, wearing only a tunic, like a Dorian girl,
and sought in vain, ah me! to station myself at the holy hearth of Artemis; for, after seeing my husband slain, I was led away over the broad sea; with many a backward look at my city,
935
when the ship began her homeward voyage and parted me from Ilium’s strand; till alas! for very grief I fainted,
940
[Choral]
Cursing Helen the sister of the Dioscuri, and Paris the baleful shepherd of Ida;
Chorus
for it was their marriage, which was no marriage but misery sent by some demon, that robbed me of my country and drove me from my home.
945
Oh! may the sea’s salt flood never carry her home again; and may she never set foot in her father’s halls!
950
