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In that hour around the house I was singing as I danced to that maiden of the hills, the child of Zeus;
when there rang along the town a cry of death which filled the homes of
Troy
, and babies in terror clung about their mothers’ skirts,
555
as forth from their ambush came the warrior-band, the handiwork of maiden Pallas. Soon the altars ran with Phrygian blood, and desolation reigned over every bed where young men lay beheaded,
560
a glorious crown for
Hellas
won, for her, the nurse of youth, but for our Phrygian fatherland a bitter grief.
565
In that hour around the house I was singing as I danced to that maiden of the hills, the child of Zeus;
when there rang along the town a cry of death which filled the homes of
Troy
, and babies in terror clung about their mothers’ skirts,
555
as forth from their ambush came the warrior-band, the handiwork of maiden Pallas. Soon the altars ran with Phrygian blood, and desolation reigned over every bed where young men lay beheaded,
560
a glorious crown for
Hellas
won, for her, the nurse of youth, but for our Phrygian fatherland a bitter grief.
565
The Trojan Women. Euripides. Edward P. Coleridge (Translator). London. 1906.
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