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The Tragedies of Seneca

That this my child is still in life, perchance
To be the avenger of his father's death. 660
But both I cannot spare. What then? O soul,
Save of the two, whom most the Greeks do fear.
Ulysses [aside]: Now must I force her answer.
[To Andromache.]
From its base
Will I this tomb destroy.
Andromache: The tomb of him
Whose body thou didst ransom for a price?
Ulysses: I will destroy it, and the sepulcher
From its high mound will utterly remove. 665
Andromache: The sacred faith of heaven do I invoke,
And just Achilles' plighted word: do thou,
Pyrrhus, keep thy father's sacred oath.
Ulysses: This tomb shall soon lie level with the plain.
Andromache: Such sacrilege the Greeks, though impious,
Have never dared. 'Tis true the sacred fanes,
E'en of your favoring gods, ye have defiled; 670
But still your wildest rage hath spared our tombs.
I will resist, and match your warriors' arms
With my weak woman's hands. Despairing wrath
Will nerve my arm. Like that fierce Amazon,
Who wrought dire havoc in the Grecian ranks;
Or some wild Maenad by the god o'ercome,
Who, thrysus-armed, doth roam the trackless glades
With frenzied step, and, clean of sense bereft, 675
Strikes deadly blows but feels no counter-stroke:
So will I rush against ye in defense
Of Hector's tomb, and perish, if I must,
An ally of his shade.
Ulysses [to attendants]: Do ye delay,
And do a woman's tears and empty threats
And outcry move you? Speed the task I bid. 680
Andromache [struggling with attendants]: Destroy me first! Oh, take
my life instead!

[The attendants roughly thrust her away.]
Alas, they thrust me back! Hector, come,

Break through the bands of fate, upheave the earth,