I have come, stricken with terror. Has a herald from the Danaids already arrived? To whom am I, poor captive, given as a slave?HecubaYou are not far from being allotted now.Second Semi-ChorusAlas! What man of Argos or Phthia will bear me in sorrow far from Troy, to his home, or to some island fastness?HecubaAh! ah! Whose slave shall I become in my old age? in what land? a poor old drone, the wretched copy of a corpse, alas! set to keep the gate or tend their children, I who once held royal rank in Troy.

ChorusAlas, alas! What piteous dirge will you devise to mourn the outrage done you? No more through Ida’s looms shall I ply the shuttle to and fro. I look my last on my children’s bodies, my last; I shall endure surpassing misery, it may be as the unwilling bride of some Hellene (perish the night and fortune that brings me to this!);