Hecuba monologue from Hecuba

Hecuba’s monologue

Not one

Exists, whose sorrows equal mine, unless

You of Calamity herself would speak.

Yet hear the motive why I clasp your knees.

5If I appear to merit what I suffer,

I must be patient; but if not, avenge

My wrongs upon the man who 'gainst his guest

Such treachery could commit, who, nor the gods

Of Erebus beneath, nor those who rule

10In Heaven above regarding, this vile deed

Did perpetrate, e'en he with whom I oft

Partook the feast, on whom I showered each bounty,

Esteeming him the first of all my friends;

Yet, when at Ilion's palace with respect

15He had been treated, a deliberate scheme

Of murder forming, he destroyed my son,

On whom he deigned not to bestow a tomb,

But threw his corse into the briny deep.

Though I indeed am feeble, and a slave,

20Yet mighty are the gods, and by their law

The world is ruled: for by that law we learn

That there are gods, and can mark out the bounds

Of justice and injustice; if such law

To you transmitted, be infringed, if they

25Who kill their guests, or dare with impious hand

To violate the altars of the gods,

Unpunished 'scape, no equity is left

Among mankind. Deeming such base connivance

Unworthy of yourself, revere my woes,

30Have pity on me, like a painter take

Your stand to view me, and observe the number

Of my afflictions; once was I a queen,

But now am I a slave; in many a son

I once was rich, but now am I both old

35And of my children reft, without a city,

Forlorn, and of all mortals the most wretched.

That band of my heroic sons is now no more,

Myself a captive, am led forth to tasks

Unseemly, and e'en now these eyes behold

40The air obscured by Ilion's rising smoke.

It might be vain perhaps, were I to found

A claim to your assistance on your love:

Yet must I speak: my daughter, who in Troy

Was called Cassandra, the prophetic dame,

45Partakes your bed; and how those rapturous nights

Will you acknowledge, or to her show

Your gratitude for all the fond embraces

Which she bestows, O king, or in her stead

To me her mother? In the soul of man

50Th' endearments of the night, by darkness veiled,

Create the strongest interest. To my tale

Now listen: do you see that breathless corse?

Each act of kindness which to him is shown,

Upon a kinsman of the dame you love

55Will be conferred. But, in one point my speech

Is yet deficient. By the wondrous arts

Of Dædalus, or some benignant god,

Could I give voice to each arm, hand, and hair,

And each extremest joint, they round your knees

60Should cling together, and together weep,

At once combining with a thousand tongues.

O monarch, O thou light of Greece, comply,

And stretch forth that avenging arm to aid

An aged woman, though she be a thing

65Of nought, O succour: for the good man's duty

Is to obey the dread behests of justice,

And ever punish those who act amiss.

Public domain text.