THE BOOK WAS DRENCHED - OUDL Home

The great wave rolled from God hath conquered me.
But, O, let Hector and the fates that fell
On Hector, sleep. Weep for him ne'er so well,
Thy weeping shall not wake him. Honour thou
The new lord that is set above thee now,
And make of thine own gentle piety
A prize to lure his heart. So shalt thou be
A strength to them that love us, and—God knows,
It may be—rear this babe among his foes,
My Hector's child, to manhood and great aid
For Ilion. So her stones may yet be laid
One on another, if God will, and wrought
Again to a city! Ah, how thought to thought
Still beckons! . . . But what minion of the Greek
Is this that cometh, with new words to speak?
(Enter TALTHYBIUS with a band of Soldiers. He comes forward
slowly and with evident disquiet.)
TALTHYBIUS
Spouse of the noblest heart that beat in Troy,
Andromache, hate me not! 'Tis not in joy
I tell thee. But the people and the Kings
Have with one voice . . .
Are on thy lips!
ANDROMACHE
What is it? Evil things
TALTHYBIUS
'Tis ordered, this child . . . Oh,
How can I tell her of it?
ANDROMACHE
Doth he not go
With me, to the same master?
TALTHYBIUS
There is none
In Greece, shall e'er be master of thy son.
ANDROMACHE
How? Will they leave him here to build again
The wreck? . . .