Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/395

Rh The hearts of all, and, wondrous prodigy, E'en Pyrrhus' bloody hand was slow to strike. But soon, his right hand lifted to the stroke, He drove the weapon deep within her breast; And straight from that deep wound the blood burst forth In sudden streams. But still the noble maid Did not give o'er her bold and haughty mien, Though in the act of death. For in her fall She smote the earth with angry violence, As if to make it heavy for the dead. Then flowed the tears of all. The Trojans groaned With secret woe, since fear restrained their tongues; But openly the victors voiced their grief. And now the savage rite was done. The blood Stood not upon the ground, nor flowed away; But downward all its ruddy stream was sucked, As if the tomb were thirsty for the draught. Hecuba: Now go, ye Greeks, and seek your homes in peace. With spreading sails your fleet in safety now May cleave the welcome sea; the maid and boy Are slain, the war is done. Oh, whither now Shall I betake me in my wretchedness? Where spend this hateful remnant of my life? My daughter or my grandson shall I mourn, My husband, country—or myself alone? O death, my sole desire, for boys and maids Thou com'st with hurried step and savage mien; But me alone of mortals dost thou fear And shun; through all that dreadful night of Troy, I sought thee 'midst the swords and blazing brands, But all in vain my search. No cruel foe, Nor crumbling wall, nor blazing fire, could give The death I sought. And yet how near I stood To agéd Priam's side when he was slain! Messenger: Ye captives, haste you to the winding shore; The sails are spread, our long delay is o'er.