Euripides' HECUBA Complete

Translated by E. Coleridge.

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Leader: Alas! how cursed is slavery alway in its nature, forced by
the might of the stronger to endure unseemly treatment.

Hecuba: Daughter, my pleading to avert thy bloody death was wasted
idly on the air; do thou, if in aught endowed with greater power to
move than thy mother, make haste to use it, uttering every pleading
note like the tuneful nightingale, to save thy soul from death. Throw
thyself at Odysseus' knees to move his pity, and try to move him.
Here is thy plea: he to hath children, so that he can feel for thy
sad fate.

Polyxena: Odysseus, I see thee hiding thy right hand beneath thy robe
and turning away thy face, that I may not touch thy beard. Take heart;
thou art safe from the suppliant's god in my case, for I will follow
thee, alike because I must and because it is my wish to die; for were
I loth, a coward should I show myself, a woman faint of heart. Why
should I prolong my days? I whose sire was king of all the Phrygians?-my
chiefest pride in life, Then was I nursed on fair fond hopes to be
a bride for kings, the centre of keen jealousy amongst suitors, to
see whose home I would make my own; and o'er each dame of Ida I was
queen; ah me! a maiden marked amid her fellows, equal to a goddess,
save for death alone, but now slave! That name first makes me long
for death, so strange it sounds; and then maybe my lot might give
me to some savage master, one that would buy me for money,-me the
sister of Hector and many another chief,-who would make me knead him
bread within his halls, or sweep his house or set me working at the
loom, leading a life of misery; while some slave, bought I know not
whence, will taint my maiden charms, once deemed worthy of royalty.
No, never! Here I close my eyes upon the light, free as yet, and dedicate
myself to Hades. Lead me hence, Odysseus, and do thy worst, for I
see naught within my reach to make me hope or expect with any confidence
that I am ever again to be happy. Mother mine! seek not to hinder
me by word or deed, but join in my wish for death ere I meet with
shameful treatment undeserved. For whoso is not used to taste of sorrow's
cup, though he bears it, yet it galls him when he puts his neck within
the yoke; far happier would he be dead than alive, for life of honour
reft is toil and trouble.

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