Menelaus.
Seize me this woman!—round her coil your arms, 425
My thralls! No words of friendship shall she hear.
I, that thou mightest leave the holy altar,
Held forth the lure of thy child's death, and drew thee
To slip into mine hands for slaughtering.
And, for thy fate, know thou that this is so: 430
But for thy son, my child shall be his judge,
Whether her pleasure be to slay or spare.
Hence to the house, that thou, slave as thou art,
May'st learn no more to rail against the free.
Andromache.
Woe's me! By guile thou hast stoln on me!—betrayed! 435
Menelaus.
Publish it to the world! Not I deny it.
Andromache.
Count ye this wisdom, dwellers by Eurotas?
Menelaus.
Yea, and in Troy—that wronged ones should revenge.
Andromache.
Is there no God, think'st thou, nor reckoning-day?
Menelaus.
I'll meet it when it comes. Thee will I kill. 440
