Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1894) v1.djvu/257

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What shall I say, Zeus?—that thou look'st on men?

Or that this fancy false we vainly hold

For nought, who deem there is a race of Gods,

While chance controlleth all things among men?

This—was she not the wealthy Phrygians' queen?

This—was she not all-prosperous Priam's wife?

And now her city is all spear-o'erthrown;

Herself a slave, old, childless, on the earth

Lieth, her hapless head with dust defiled.

Ah, old am I, yet be it mine to die

Ere into any shameful lot I fall!

Arise, ill-starred, and from the earth uplift

Thy body and thine head all snow-besprent.

Ha, who art thou that lettest not my frame

Rest?—why disturb my grief, whoe'er thou be?

Talthybius I, the Danaans' minister,

Of Agamemnon sent, O queen, for thee.

Friend, friend, art come because the Achaians will

To slay me too?—How sweet thy tidings were!

Haste we—make speed—O ancient, lead me on.

Lady, that thou mayst bury thy dead child

I come in quest of thee; and sent am I

Of Atreus' two sons and the Achaian folk.