Glory of Phrygian raiment, which my thought
Kept for thy bridal day with some far-sought
Queen of the East, folds thee for evermore.
And thou, grey Mother, Mother-Shield that bore
The Trojan Women
A thousand days of glory, thy last crown
Is here.... Dear Hector's shield! Thou shalt lie down
Undying with the dead, and lordlier there
Than all the gold Odysseus' breast can bear,
The evil and the strong!
Chorus
Some Women.
Child of the Shield-bearer,
Alas, Hector's child!
Great Earth, the All-mother,
Taketh thee unto her
With wailing wild!
Others.
Mother of misery,
Give Death his song!
(Hecuba: Woe!) Aye and bitterly
(Hecuba: Woe!) We too weep for thee,
And the infinite wrong!
[During these lines Hecuba, kneeling by the body, has been performing a funeral rite, symbolically staunching the dead Child's wounds.
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