With their blood, and a banquet of wild beasts make me,
Requiting their outrage well
With grimmer revenge?—Woe! where am I borne
Forsaking my fenceless babes to be torn
Of the bacchanals of hell,
Butchered and cast away for the dogs' blood-boultered prey
On a desolate mountain-fell?
Ah, where shall I stand?—whither go?—where rest?
As a ship furls sail that hath havenward pressed,1080
I would dart into that death-haunted lair,
I would shroud my babes in my linen vest,
I would guard them there!
Chorus.
Wretch! wreaked on thee are ills intolerable:
Foul deeds thou didst, and awful penalty
A God hath laid on thee with heavy hand.
Polymestor.
What ho! spear-brandishers, nation arrayed in warrior's weed!
Thracians possessed of the War-god, lords of the gallant steed!1090
What ho, ye Achaians!—Atreus' seed!
Rescue! Rescue! I raise the cry.
O come, in the name of the Gods draw nigh!
Hears any man?—wherefore delay?—will no man help me nor heed?
Of women undone, destroyed, am I—
The women of Troy's captivity.
