قراءة كتاب The Trojan Women of Euripides

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The Trojan Women of Euripides

The Trojan Women of Euripides

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
الصفحة رقم: 7

class="x-ebookmaker-pageno" title="[Pg 19]"/>                To cry, ah, not the cry men heard
                    In Ilion, not the songs of old,
                That echoed when my hand was true
                        On Priam's sceptre, and my feet
                        Touched on the stone one signal beat,
                    And out the Dardan music rolled;
                And Troy's great Gods gave ear thereto.

[The door of one of the huts on the right opens, and the Women steal out severally, startled and afraid.

First Woman.

[Strophe 1.

        How say'st thou? Whither moves thy cry,
            Thy bitter cry? Behind our door
            We heard thy heavy heart outpour
        Its sorrow: and there shivered by
                Fear and a quick sob shaken
    From prisoned hearts that shall be free no more!
Hecuba.    Child, 'tis the ships that stir upon the shore...
Second Woman.                 The ships, the ships awaken!
Third Woman.        Dear God, what would they? Overseas
        Bear me afar to strange cities?
Hecuba.        Nay, child, I know not. Dreams are these,
                    Fears of the hope-forsaken.

First Woman.

    Awake, O daughters of affliction, wake
    And learn your lots! Even now the Argives break
                        Their camp for sailing!

Hecuba.

        Ah, not Cassandra! Wake not her
            Whom God hath maddened, lest the foe
        Mock at her dreaming. Leave me clear
            From that one edge of woe.
        O Troy, my Troy, thou diest here
            Most lonely; and most lonely we
            The living wander forth from thee,
                    And the dead leave thee wailing!

[One of the huts on the left is now open, and the rest of the Chorus come out severally. Their number eventually amounts to fifteen.

Fourth Woman.

[Antistrophe 1.

        Out of the tent of the Greek king
            I steal, my Queen, with trembling breath:
            What means thy call? Not death; not death!
        They would not slay so low a thing!
Fifth Woman.                    O, 'tis the ship-folk crying
    To deck the galleys: and we part, we part!
Hecuba.    Nay, daughter: take the morning to thine heart.
Fifth Woman.                    My heart with dread is dying!
Sixth Woman.        An herald from the Greek hath come!
Fifth Woman.        How have they cast me, and to whom
        A bondmaid?
Hecuba.                    Peace, child: wait thy doom.
                    Our lots are near the trying.

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