Thy child, upon Achilles' grave-mound's height.
Me they appoint to usher thitherward
And bring the maid: the president and priest
Of sacrifice Achilles' son shall be.
Know'st thou thy part then?—be not torn away225
Perforce, nor brave me to the strife of hands;
But know thy might, thine imminence of ills.
Wise is it even mid ills to hearken reason.
Hecuba.
Woe! A sore trial is at hand, meseems,
Burdened with groanings, and fulfilled of tears.230
I died not there where well might I have died;
Nor Zeus destroyed, but holdeth me in life
To see—O wretch!—ills more than ills o'erpast.
Yet, if the bond may question of the free
Things that should vex them not, nor gall the heart,235
Then fits it that thou be the questioned now,
And that I ask, and hearken thy reply.
Odysseus.
So be it: ask, I grudge not the delay.
Hecuba.
Rememberest thou thy coming unto Troy
A spy, in rags vile-vestured; from thine eyes240
Trickled adown thy cheeks the gouts of gore?
Odysseus.
I do, for deep it sank into mine heart.
Hecuba.
And Helen knew thee, and told none save me?
