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46 My Hector's child, to manhood and great aid

For Ilion. So her stones may yet be laid

One on another, if God will, and wrought

Again to a city! Ah, how thought to thought

Still beckons! But what minion of the Greek

Is this that cometh, with new words to speak?

Spouse of the noblest heart that beat in Troy,

Andromache, hate me not! 'Tis not in joy

I tell thee. But the people and the Kings

Have with one voice

What is it? Evil things

Are on thy lips!

'Tis ordered, this child Oh,

How can I tell her of it?

Doth he not go

With me, to the same master?

There is none

In Greece, shall e'er be master of thy son.

How? Will they leave him here to build again

The wreck?