CHA. Alas! intolerable stroke of fate!
1st SEMICHOR. Be silent.
2nd SEMICHOR. Rouse! for some one may have fallen
Into the snare.
CHA. O dire calamity
Of Troy’s allies, the Thracians!
1st SEMICHOR. Who is he
That groans?
CHA. Ah! wretched me, and O thou king
Of Thrace, who in an evil hour beheld’st
Accursed Ilion; what an end of life
Was thine!
CHOR. But which of our allies art thou?
For o’er these eyes the gloom of night is spread,
And I discern thee not.
CHA. Where shall I find
Some of the Trojan chiefs? beneath his shield
O where doth Hector taste the charms of sleep?
To which of Ilion’s leaders shall I tell
All we have suffered? and what wounds unseen
Some stranger hath on us with ruthless hand
Inflicted? but he vanished and hath heaped
Conspicuous sorrows on the Thracian realm.
CHOR. Some terrible disaster to the troops
Of Thrace it seems hath happened, if aright
I comprehend what I from him have heard.
CHA. Our host is utterly destroyed, our king
Hath been despatched by some foul secret stroke.
How am I tortured by a deadly wound,
Yet know not to what cause I must impute
My perishing! ’Twas by the Fates ordained,
That I, and Rhesus, who to Ilion led
Auxiliar troops, ingloriously should bleed.
CHOR. He in no riddle hath expressed the tale
Of our misfortunes; he asserts too clearly
That our allies are slain.
CHA. We are most wretched,
And to our wretchedness have joined disgrace,
A twofold evil. For, to die with glory,
If glory must be purchased at the expense
Of life, is very bitterness I deem
To him who bleeds (for what can make amends
For such a loss as life); but to the living
Is he the source of pride, from him his house
Derives renown. But we, alas! like fools,
Ignobly perish. Hector in the camp
No sooner fixed our station, and pronounced
The watchword, than we slept upon the plain,
O’ercome with toil; no sentinels were stationed
To watch our troops by night, nor were our arms
Duly arranged, and to the harnessed steeds
Hung no alarm bell; for our monarch heard
That ye had proved victorious, and with ruin
Threatened the Grecian fleet. Immersed we lay
In luckless slumber; till disturbed in mind
I started up, and with a liberal hand
Measured the coursers’ food, resolved betimes
To yoke them for the battle. I beheld
Two men, who, in the midnight darkness, walked
Around our camp; but when I moved, they fled,
And disappeared immediately; with threats
I bade them keep aloof: ’twas my conjecture
That robbers, some of our own countrymen,
Approached: they answered not, nor know I more.
Returning to my tent, again I slept,
And forms tremendous hovered in my dream.
For near my royal master, as I stood,
I saw two visionary wolves ascend
Those coursers’ backs which I was wont to guide,
Oft lashing with their tails they forced them on,
Indignant breathing as they champed the bit,
And struggling with dismay; but in attempting
To drive away these ravenous beasts, I woke,
Roused by the terrors of the night, and heard,
Soon as I raised my head, expiring groans;
The tepid current of my master’s blood,
Yet gasping in the agonies of death,
Besprinkled me. As from the couch I leaped
Unarmed, and sought for weapons, some strong warrior
Smote with his sword my ribs; the ghastly wound
Displayed his might: prostrate I sunk to earth.
Bearing the steeds away, and glittering car,
They by the swiftness of their feet escaped,
Tortured with pain, too faint to stand, I know
Too well the dire calamity these eyes
Beheld; but cannot say, or through what means,
Or by the hand of whom, my lord was slain:
Yet can I guess that by our friends we suffer.
CHOR. O charioteer of Thracia’s wretched king,
Be well assured this deed was by our foes
Committed. For lo! Hector’s self, apprized
Of this calamity, draws near; he feels
Such anguish as he ought for thy disasters.