Page:Trojan Women (Murray 1905).djvu/69

Rh Howbeit, she prayed us that due rites be done

For burial of this babe, thine Hector's son,

That now from Ilion's tower is fallen and dead.

And, lo! this great bronze-fronted shield, the dread

Of many a Greek, that Hector held in fray,

O never in God's name—so did she pray—

Be this borne forth to hang in Pêleus' hall

Or that dark bridal chamber, that the wall

May hurt her eyes; but here, in Troy o'erthrown,

Instead of cedar wood and vaulted stone,

Be this her child's last house. And in thine hands

She bade me lay him, to be swathed in bands

Of death and garments, such as rest to thee

In these thy fallen fortunes; seeing that she

Hath gone her ways, and, for her master's haste,

May no more fold the babe unto his rest.

Howbeit, so soon as he is garlanded

And robed, we will heap earth above his head

And lift our sails. See all be swiftly done,

As thou art bidden. I have saved thee one

Labour. For as I passed Scamander's stream

Hard by, I let the waters run on him,

And cleansed his wounds.—See, I will go forth now

And break the hard earth for his grave: so thou

And I will haste together, to set free

Our oars at last to beat the homeward sea!

Set the great orb of Hector's shield to lie

Here on the ground. 'Tis bitter that mine eye