Euripides The Trojan Women 673

ed. Gilbert Murray

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σὲ δʼ, ὦ φίλʼ Ἕκτορ, εἶχον ἄνδρʼ ἀρκοῦντά μοι
ξυνέσει γένει πλούτῳ τε κἀνδρείᾳ μέγαν·
ἀκήρατον δέ μʼ ἐκ πατρὸς λαβὼν δόμων
675
πρῶτος τὸ παρθένειον ἐζεύξω λέχος.
καὶ νῦν ὄλωλας μὲν σύ, ναυσθλοῦμαι δʼ ἐγὼ
πρὸς Ἑλλάδʼ αἰχμάλωτος ἐς δοῦλον ζυγόν.
ἆρʼ οὐκ ἐλάσσω τῶν ἐμῶν ἔχειν κακῶν
Πολυξένης ὄλεθρος, ἣν καταστένεις;
680
ἐμοὶ γὰρ οὐδʼ ὃ πᾶσι λείπεται βροτοῖς
ξύνεστιν ἐλπίς, οὐδὲ κλέπτομαι φρένας
πράξειν τι κεδνόν· ἡδὺ δʼ ἐστὶ καὶ δοκεῖν.

The Trojan Women. Euripides. ed. Gilbert Murray. Oxford. 1913.

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Funding provided by The Annenberg CPB/Project.

Current edition Perseus

Τρῳάδες (Greek) (Euripides. Euripidis Fabulae, Vol. II. Murray, Gilbert, editor. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1913. (Reprinted 1921-1962))

Translations (3)
The Trojan Women Perseus (Euripides. The Plays of Euripides, Vol. I. Coleridge, Edward P., translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1906. (Modernized by Perseus.)) — 673 focus
O my dear Hector , in you I found a husband amply dowered with wisdom, noble birth and fortune, a brave man and a mighty;
while you took from my father’s house a spotless bride, yourself the first to make this maiden wife. But now death has claimed you, and I am soon to sail to Hellas , a captive doomed to wear the yoke of slavery. Has not then the dead Polyxena,
675
for whom you wail, less evil to bear than I? I have not so much as hope, the last resource of every human heart, nor do I beguile myself with dreams of future bliss, the very thought of which is sweet.
680
The Trojan Dames (OCR draft) Experimental (The Trojan Dames. Robert Potter's English verse translation, first published in 1781–1783; text from the 1808 Oxford printing.)

No corresponding passage available

German (J. J. C. Donner, 1852; OCR review) (OCR draft) Experimental (Euripides. Deutsch in den Versmaßen der Urschrift. Volume 3, Heidelberg: C. F. Winter, 1852. Harvard OCR compared with an independent BSB copy. Native Donner verse citations, Murray reference cards, explicitly located notes and page facsimiles. Unresolved OCR, verse divisions, unlocated notes and printed errata are documented in the source review.) — 673 focus
Du, mein geliebter Hektor, warst mir stets genug,
Groß durch Verstand, durch Ahnen, Reichthum, Tapferkeit:
675
Und rein empfangen hast du mich vom Vaterhaus,
Und dich empfing als Ersten mein jungfräulich Bett.
Und jezt ereilte dich der Tod, ich segle fort
Nach Hellas, kriegsgefangen, in der Sclaven Joch.
(zu Hekabe)
Erscheint dir nun nicht minder schlimm, als mein Geschick,
680
Das Ende deiner Tochter, die du so beklagst?
Denn auch die Hoffnung, die den Menschen nie verläßt,
Ist mir verloren; nimmer tauscht der Glaube mich
An frohe Tage: lieblich zwar ist selbst der Wahn.