Chorus Leader But see! a herald from the army of Danaids, with a store of fresh proclamations, comes hastening here. What is his errand? What does he say? For we are indeed slaves now to Dorian lords.
Talthybius Hecuba, you know me from my many journeys to and fro as herald between the Achaean army and Troy; I was no stranger to you, lady, even before: I, Talthybius, now sent with a fresh message.
Hecuba Ah, kind friends, it has come! what I so long have dreaded.
Talthybius The lot has decided your fates already, if that was what you feared.
Hecuba Ah me! What city did you say, Thessalian, Phthian, or Cadmean?
Talthybius Each warrior took his prize in turn; you were not all at once assigned.
Hecuba To whom has the lot assigned us severally? Which of us Trojan women does a happy fortune await?
Talthybius I know, but ask your questions separately, not all at once.
Hecuba Then tell me, whose prize is my daughter, hapless Cassandra?
Talthybius King Agamemnon has chosen her out for himself.
Hecuba To be the slave-girl of his Spartan wife? Ah me!
Talthybius No, to share with him his stealthy love.
Hecuba What! Phoebus’ virgin-priestess, to whom the god with golden locks granted the gift of maidenhood?
Talthybius The dart of love has pierced his heart, love for the frenzied maid.
Hecuba Daughter, cast from you the sacred keys, and from your body tear the holy wreaths that drape you in their folds.
Talthybius Why! is it not an honor that she should win our monarch’s love?
Hecuba What have you done to her whom recently you took from me, my child?
Talthybius Do you mean Polyxena, or whom do you inquire about?
Hecuba Yes, that one; to whom has the lot assigned her?
Talthybius To minister at Achilles’ tomb has been appointed her.
Hecuba Woe is me! I the mother of a dead man’s slave! What custom, what ordinance is this among Hellenes, friend?
Talthybius Count your daughter happy; it is well with her.
Hecuba What wild words are these? Please tell me, is she still alive?
Talthybius Her fate is one that sets her free from trouble.
Hecuba And what of the wife of Hector skilled in arms, sad Andromache? declare her fate.
Talthybius She too was a chosen prize; Achilles’ son took her.
Hecuba As for me whose hair is white with age, who need to hold a staff to be to me a third foot, whose servant am I to be?
Talthybius Odysseus, king of Ithaca, has taken you to be his slave.
Hecuba
Oh, oh! Now smite the close-shorn head! tear your cheeks with your nails! Ah me! I have fallen as a slave to a treacherous foe I hate, a monster of lawlessness, one that by his double tongue has turned against us all that once was friendly in his camp, changing this for that and that for this again. Oh weep for me, you Trojan women! Lost and ill-fated! Ah woe! a victim to a most unhappy lot!
Chorus Leader
Your fate, royal mistress, now you know; but for me, what Helene or Achaean is master of my destiny?
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