Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/392

374 Where Ilium's smouldering ruins lie, Far off beneath the eastern sky: "See there, my child, our Trojan ashes glow, Where wreathing smoke in murky clouds The distant, dim horizon shrouds;  And by that sign alone our land we know."

Messenger [entering]: Oh, cruel fate, Oh, piteous, horrible! What sight so fell and bloody have we seen In ten long years of war? Between thy woes, Andromache, and thine, O Hecuba, I halt, and know not which to weep the more. Hecuba: Weep whosesoe'er thou wilt—thou weepest mine. While others bow beneath their single cares, I feel the weight of all. All die to me; Whatever grief there is, is Hecuba's. Messenger: The maid is slain, the boy dashed from the walls. But each has met his death with royal soul. Andromache: Expound the deed in order, and display The twofold crime. My mighty grief is fain To hear the gruesome narrative entire. Begin thy tale, and tell it as it was. Messenger: One lofty tower of fallen Troy is left, Well known to Priam, on whose battlements He used to sit and view his warring hosts. Here in his arms his grandson he would hold With kind embrace, and bid the lad admire His father's warlike deeds upon the field, Where Hector, armed with fire and sword, pursued The frightened Greeks. Around this lofty tower Which lately stood, the glory of the walls, But now a lonely crag, the people pour, A motley, curious throng of high and low. For some, a distant hill gives open view; While others seek a cliff, upon whose edge The crowd in tiptoed expectation stand. The beech tree, laurel, pine, each has its load; The whole wood bends beneath its human fruit.