Polyxena: Come veil my head, Odysseus, and take me hence; for now,
ere falls the fatal blow, my heart is melted by my mother's wailing,
and hers no less by mine. O light of day! for still may I call thee
by thy name, though now my share in thee is but the time I take to
go 'twixt this and the sword at Achilles' tomb. (Odysseus and his
attendants lead Polyxena away.)
Hecuba: Woe is me! I faint; my limbs sink under me. O my daughter,
embrace thy mother, stretch out thy hand, give it me again; leave
me not childless! Ah, friends! 'tis my death-blow. Oh! to see that
Spartan woman, Helen, sister of the sons of Zeus, in such a plight;
for her bright eyes have caused the shameful fall of Troy's once prosperous
town. (Hecuba sinks fainting to the ground.)
Chorus: (singing, strophe 1)
O breeze from out the deep arising, that waftest swift galleys, ocean's
coursers, across the surging main! whither wilt thou bear me the child
of sorrow? To whose house shall I be brought, to be his slave and
chattel? to some haven in the Dorian land, or in Phthia, where men
say Apidanus, father of fairest streams, makes fat and rich the tilth?