High o'er this spot a frowning crag projects,
Which views on either side the spreading sea.
There distant lie thine own Pelopian shores,
And there the curving Isthmus, deep withdrawn,
Shielding the broad Aegean from the west 565
There blood-stained Lemnos looms; here Chalcis[1] lies;
And yonder wind-locked Aulis' peaceful port.
This lofty cliff old Nauplius occupied,
With hate inspired for Palamedes' sake.
There his accurséd hand a beacon raised
And lured us onward to the fatal spot. 570
Now hang our barks by jagged rocks transfixed,
Or founder, wrecked and wrecking in the shoals;
And where but now our vessels sought to land,
They flee the land and choose the angry waves. 575
With dawn the sea's destructive rage was spent,
And full atonement had been made to Troy.
Then came the sun again; and brightening day
Revealed the awful havoc of the night.
Clytemnestra: I know not which were better, grief or joy.
I do rejoice to see my lord again, 580
And yet my kingdom's losses counsel tears.
O father Jove, at whose august command
The sounding heavens quake, regard our race,
And bid the angry gods be merciful.
Let every head be decked with festal wreath,
The flute resound, and at the stately shrine
Let snowy victims fall in sacrifice. 585
But lo, a grieving throng, with locks unkempt,
The Trojan women come; and at their head,
With step majestic, queenly, heaven inspired,
Apollo's bride, with his own laurel tired.
[Enter band of Trojan women, led by Cassandra.]
Band of Trojan women: Alas, how bitter, yet how sweet a thing,
This love of life we mortals cherish so!
What madness, when the door stands open wide 590
That frees us from our ills, and death calls loud
And welcomes us to everlasting rest!
- ↑ Reading, hinc et Chalcida.
