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.
- thou too didst share his triumphant return to Europe.
- Alas! good friends, what a succession of troubles is to-day provided us! My mistress Hermione within the house,
- deserted by her father and in remorse for her monstrous deed in plotting the death of Andromache and her child, is bent on dying; for she is afraid her husband will in requital for this expel her with dishonour from his house
- or put her to death, because she tried to slay the innocent. And the servants that watch her can scarce restrain her efforts to hang herself, scarce catch the sword and wrest it from her hand. So bitter is her anguish,
- and she hath recognized the villainy of her former deeds. As for me, friends, I am weary of keeping my mistress from the fatal noose; do ye go in and try to save her life; for if strangers come, they prove more persuasive than the friends of every day.
- Ah yes! I hear an outcry in the house amongst the servants, confirming the news thou hast brought. Poor sufferer! she seems about to show a lively grief for her grave crimes; for she has escaped her servants’ hands and is rushing from the house, eager to end her life.
- rushing wildly on to the stage. Woe, woe is me! I will tear my hair and scratch cruel furrows in my cheeks.
- My child, what wilt thou do? Wilt thou disfigure thyself?
- Ah me! ah me!
- Begone, thou fine-spun veil! float from my head away!
- Daughter, cover up thy bosom, fasten thy robe.
- Why should I cover it?
- My crimes against my lord are manifest and clear, they cannot be hidden.
- Art so grieved at having devised thy rival’s death?
- Indeed I am; I deeply mourn my fatal deeds of daring; alas! I am now accursed in all men’s eyes!
- Thy husband will pardon thee this error.
- Oh! why didst thou hunt me to snatch away my sword? Give, oh! give it back, dear nurse, that I may thrust it through my heart. Why dost thou prevent me hanging myself?
- What! was I to let thy madness lead thee on to death?
- Ah me, my destiny! Where can I find some friendly fire? To what rocky height can I climb above the sea or ’mid some wooded mountain glen,
- there to die and trouble but the dead?