Hec.  You have spoken honorably, my daughter, but in that honorable dwells grief.  But if the son of Peleus must be gratified, and you must escape blame, Ulysses, kill not her; but leading me to the pyre of Achilles, strike me, spare me not; I brought forth Paris, who destroyed the son of Thetis, having pierced him with his arrows.

ULYSS.  The phantom of Achilles did not demand that thou, O aged lady, but that thy daughter here should die.

Hec.  Do thou then at least slay me with my daughter, and there will be twice the libation of blood for the earth, and the dead who makes this request.

ULYSS.  Thy daughter’s death suffices; one must not be heaped on another; would that we required not even this one.

Hec.  There is a strong necessity for me to die with my daughter.

ULYSS.  How so? for I am not aware of any master that I have.

Hec.  As the ivy the oak, so will I clasp her.

ULYSS.  Not so; if you will take the advice of your superiors in knowledge.

Hec.  Never will I willingly quit my child here.

ULYSS.  Nor will I leave this place without the virgin.

POLYX.  Mother, be persuaded; and thou, son of Laertes, be gentle to a parent with reason moved to anger.  But thou, O wretched mother, contend not with conquerors.  Dost thou wish to fall on the earth and to wound thy aged flesh dragged by violence, and to suffer the indignity of being torn by a youthful arm? which things you will suffer.  Do not, I pray thee, for it is not seemly.  But, my dear mother, give me thy beloved hand, and grant me to join cheek to cheek; since never hereafter, but now for the last time shall I behold the rays of the sun and his bright orb.  Receive my last address, O mother!  O thou that bearedst me, I am going below.

Hec.  And I, O daughter, shall be a slave in the light of day.

POLYX.  Without the bridegroom, without the bridal song, which I ought to have obtained.

Hec.  Mournful thou, my child; but I am a wretched woman.

POLYX.  There shall I lie in darkness far from thee.

Hec.  Alas me, what shall I do? where end my life?

POLYX.  I shall die a slave, born of a free father.

Hec.  But I bereft indeed of fifty children.

POLYX.  What message shall I bear to Hector, and to thy aged husband?

Hec.  Tell them that I am most miserable of all women.

POLYX.  O ye breasts that tenderly nursed me.

Hec.  O daughter of an untimely and unhappy fate.

POLYX.  Farewell, O mother, farewell Cassandra too.

Hec.  Others farewell, but this is not for thy mother.

POLYX.  Farewell, my brother Polydore, among the warlike Thracians.

Hec.  If he lives at least:  but I doubt, so unfortunate am I in every thing.