Part 7 (1/2)

Come to me, O my lover!

HEC. The dark shroudeth him over, My flesh, woman, not thine, not thine!

AND. Make of thine arms my cover!

HECUBA.

[_Antistrophe 2._

O thou whose wound was deepest, Thou that my children keepest, Priam, Priam, O age-worn King, Gather me where thou sleepest.

ANDROMACHE (_her hands upon her heart_).

[_Strophe 3._

O here is the deep of desire,

HEC. (How? And is this not woe?)

AND. For a city burned with fire;

HEC. (It beateth, blow on blow.)

AND. G.o.d's wrath for Paris, thy son, that he died not long ago:

Who sold for his evil love Troy and the towers thereof: Therefore the dead men lie Naked, beneath the eye Of Pallas, and vultures croak And flap for joy: So Love hath laid his yoke On the neck of Troy!

HECUBA.

[_Antistrophe 3._

O mine own land, my home,

AND. (I weep for thee, left forlorn,)

HEC. See'st thou what end is come?

AND. (And the house where my babes were born.)

HEC. A desolate Mother we leave, O children, a City of scorn:

Even as the sound of a song[32]

Left by the way, but long Remembered, a tune of tears Falling where no man hears, In the old house, as rain, For things loved of yore: But the dead hath lost his pain And weeps no more.

LEADER.

How sweet are tears to them in bitter stress, And sorrow, and all the songs of heaviness.

ANDROMACHE[33].

Mother of him of old, whose mighty spear Smote Greeks like chaff, see'st thou what things are here?