Andromache

1Chorus Lady, thus keeping thy weary station without pause upon the floor of Thetis’ shrine, Phthian though I am, to thee a daughter of Asia I come, to see if I can devise some remedy for these perplexing troubles, which have involved thee and Hermione in fell discord, because to thy sorrow thou sharest with her the love of Achilles’ son.

1Chorus Recognize thy position, weigh the present evil into the which thou art come. Thou art a Trojan captive; thy rival is thy mistress, a true-born daughter of Sparta. Leave then this home of sacrifice, the shrine of our sea-goddess. How can it avail thee to waste thy comeliness and disfigure it by weeping by reason of a mistress’s harsh usage? Might will prevail against thee; why vainly toil in thy feebleness?

2Chorus Come, quit the bright sanctuary of the Nereid divine. Recognize that thou art in bondage on a foreign soil, in a strange city, where thou seest none of all thy friends, luckless lady, cast on evil days.

2Chorus Yea, I did pity thee most truly, Trojan dame, when thou earnest to this house; but from fear of my mistress I hold my peace, albeit I sympathize with thee, lest she, whom Zeus’s daughter bore, discover†my good will toward thee.

1Chorus Ah! what sorrows did the son of Zeus and Maia herald, in the day he came to Ida’s glen, guiding that fair young trio of goddesses, all girded for the fray in bitter rivalry about their beauty, to the shepherd’s fold, where dwelt the youthful herdsman all alone by the hearth of his lonely hut.

1Chorus Soon as they reached the wooded glen, in gushing mountain springs they bathed†their dazzling skin, then sought the son of Priam, comparing their rival charms in more than rancorous phrase.†But Cypris won the day by her deceitful promises, sweet-sounding words, but fraught with ruthless overthrow to Phrygia’s hapless town and Ilium’s towers.

2Chorus Would God his mother had smitten him a cruel death-blow†on the head before he made his home on Ida’s slopes, in the hour Cassandra, standing by the holy bay-tree, cried out, Slay him, for he will bring most grievous bane on Priam’s town. To every prince she went, to every elder sued for the babe’s destruction.

2Chorus Ah! had they listened, Ilium’s daughters ne’er had felt the yoke of slavery, and†thou, lady, hadst been established in the royal palace†; and Hellas had been freed of all the anguish she suffered during†those ten long years her sons went wandering, spear in hand, around the walls of Troy; brides had never been left desolate, nor hoary fathers childless.

1Chorus Never, oh! never will I commend rival wives or sons†of different mothers, a cause of strife, of bitterness, and grief every house. I would have a husband content with one wife whose rights he shareth with no other.

1Chorus Not even in states is dual monarchy better to bear than undivided rule; it only doubles burdens and causes faction amongst the citizens. Often too will the Muse sow strife’twixt rivals†in the art of minstrelsy.

2Chorus Again, when strong winds are drifting mariners, the divided counsel of the wise is not conducive to steering, and their collective wisdom has less weight than the inferior intelligence of the single man who has sole authority;†for this is the essence of power alike in house and state, whene’er men care to find the proper moment.

2Chorus This Spartan, the daughter of the great chief Menelaus, proves this; for she hath kindled hot fury against a rival, and is bent on slaying the hapless Trojan maid and her child to further her bitter quarrel. Tis a murder gods and laws and kindness all forbid. Ah! lady, retribution for this deed will visit thee yet.

1Hermione rushing wildly on to the stage. Woe, woe is me! I will tear my hair and scratch cruel furrows in my cheeks. Nurse My child, what wilt thou do? Wilt thou disfigure thyself?

1Hermione Ah me! ah me! Begone, thou fine-spun veil! float from my head away! Nurse Daughter, cover up thy bosom, fasten thy robe.

2Hermione Why should I cover it? My crimes against my lord are manifest and clear, they cannot be hidden. Nurse Art so grieved at having devised thy rival’s death?

2Hermione Indeed I am; I deeply mourn my fatal deeds of daring; alas! I am now accursed in all men’s eyes! Nurse Thy husband will pardon thee this error.

1Chorus O Phoebus! who didst fence the hill of Ilium with a fair coronal of towers, and thou, ocean-god! coursing o’er the main with thy dark steeds, wherefore did ye hand over in dishonour your own handiwork to the war-god, master of the spear, abandoning Troy to wretchedness?

1Chorus Many a well-horsed car ye yoked on the banks of Simois, and many a bloody tournament did ye ordain with never a prize to win; and Ilium’s princes are dead and gone; no longer in Troy is seen the blaze of fire on altars of the gods with the smoke of incense.

2Chorus The son of Atreus is no more, slain by the hand of his wife, and she herself hath paid the debt of blood by death, and from her children’s hands received her doom. The god’s own bidding from his oracle was levelled against her, in the day that Agamemnon’s son set forth from Argos and visited his shrine; so he slew†her, aye, spilt his own mother’s blood. O Phoebus, O thou power divine, how can I believe the story?

2Chorus Anon wherever Hellenes gather, was heard the voice of lamentation, mothers weeping o’er their children’s fate, as they left their homes to mate with strangers. Ah! thou art not the only one, nor thy dear ones either, on whom the cloud of grief hath fallen. Hellas had to bear the visitation, and thence the scourge crossed to Phrygia’s fruitful fields, raining the bloody drops the; death-god loves.†

1Peleus Ah! woe is me! here is a sad sight for me to see and take unto my halls! Ah me! ah me! I am undone, thou city of Thessaly! My line now ends; I have no children left me in my home. Oh! the sorrows I seem born to endure! What friend can I look to for relief? Ah, dear lips, and cheeks, and hands! Would thy destiny had slain thee’neath Ilium’s walls beside the banks of Simois! Chorus Had he so died, my aged lord, he had won him honour thereby, and thine had been the happier lot.

1Peleus O marriage, marriage, woe to thee! thou bane of my home, thou destroyer†of my city! Ah my child, my boy! would†that the honour of wedding thee, fraught with evil as it was to my children and house, had not thrown oer thee, my son, Hermiones deadly net! O that the thunderbolt had slain her sooner! and that thou, rash mortal, hadst never charged the great god Phoebus with aiming that murderous shaft that spilt thy hero-fathers blood!†

2Chorus Woe! woe! alas! With due observance of funeral rites will I begin the mourning for my dead master. Peleus Alack and well-a-day! I take up the tearful dirge, ah me! old and wretched as I am. Chorus’Tis Heaven’s decree; God willed this heavy stroke. Peleus O darling child, thou hast left me all alone in my halls,†old and childless by thy loss. Chorus Thou shouldst have died, old sire, before thy children. Peleus Shall I not tear my hair, and smite upon my head with grievous blows? O city! of both my children†hath Phoebus robbed me.

2Chorus What evils thou hast suffered, what sorrows thou hast seen, thou poor old man! what shall be thy life hereafter? Peleus Childless, desolate, with no limit to my grief, I must drain the cup of woe, until I die. Chorus’Twas all in vain the gods wished thee joy on thy wedding day.†Peleus All my hopes have flown away, fallen short of my high boasts. Chorus A lonely dweller in a lonely home art thou. Peleus I have no city any longer;†there! on the ground my sceptre do I cast; and thou, daughter of Nereus, neath thy dim grotto, shalt see me grovelling in the dust,†a ruined king.