I feared their son might, left alive thy foe,
Gather Troy's remnant and repeople her,
And, hearing how a Priamid lived, Achaia1140
To Phrygia-land again should bring her host;
Then should they trample down these plains of Thrace
In foray, and the ills that wasted us
But now, O king, should on Troy's neighbours fall.
And Hecuba, being ware of her son's death,1145
With this tale lured me, that she would reveal
Hid treasuries of Priam's line in Troy
Of gold. Me only with my sons she leads
Within the tents, that none beside might know.
Bowing the knee there sat I in their midst;1150
While, on my left hand some, some on the right,
As by a friend, forsooth, Troy's daughters sat
Many: the web of our Edonian loom
Praised they, uplifting to the light my cloak;
And some my Thracian lance admiring took,1155
And stripped me so alike of spear and shield.
As many as were mothers, loud in praise
Dandled my babes, that from their sire afar
They might be borne, from hand to hand passed on.
Then, after such smooth speech,—couldst thou believe?—1160
Suddenly snatching daggers from their robes,
They stab my sons; and others all as one
In foemen's fashion gripped mine hands and feet,
And held: and, when I fain would aid my sons,
If I essayed to raise my face, by the hair1165
They held me down: if I would move mine hands,
For the host of women, wretch! I nought prevailed.
And last—O outrage than all outrage worse!—
A hideous deed they wrought: for of mine eyes
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