Andromache

Euripides

Euripides. The Plays of Euripides, Translated into English Prose from the Text of Paley. Vol. II. Coleridge, Edward P., translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1891.

  1. Of a truth ’tis no very sure hope that he has left.
Andromache
  1. O citizens of Sparta, the bane of all the race of men, schemers of guile, and masters in lying, devisers of evil plots, with crooked minds and tortuous methods and ne’er one honest thought, ’tis wrong that ye should thrive in Hellas.
  2. What crime is wanting in your list? How rife is murder with you! How covetous ye are! One word upon your lips, another in your heart, this is what men always find with you. Perdition catch ye! Still death is not so grievous, as[*](Hermann alters ὡς into ὃς, i.e. the death you have determined to inflict; but the change seems unnecessary.) thou thinkest, to me. No! for my life ended
  3. in the day that hapless Troy was destroyed with my lord, that glorious warrior, whose spear oft made a coward like thee quit the field and seek thy ship. But now against a woman hast thou
    displayed the terrors of thy panoply, my would-be murderer. Strike then! for this
  4. my tongue shall never flatter thee or that daughter of thine. For though thou wert of great account in Sparta, why so was I in Troy. And if I am now in sorry plight, presume not thou on this; thou too mayst be so yet.