And at the throng of men, awhile she stood
  Down-looking wistful from the city-wall,
  And, seeing him in front of Ilium, dragg’d 540
  So cruelly toward the fleet of Greece,
  O’erwhelm’d with sudden darkness at the view
  Fell backward, with a sigh heard all around. 
  Far distant flew dispersed her head-attire,
  Twist, frontlet, diadem, and even the veil 545
  By golden Venus given her on the day
  When Hector led her from Eetion’s house
  Enrich’d with nuptial presents to his home. 
  Around her throng’d her sisters of the house
  Of Priam, numerous, who within their arms 550
  Fast held her[16] loathing life; but she, her breath
  At length and sense recovering, her complaint
  Broken with sighs amid them thus began. 
    Hector!  I am undone; we both were born
  To misery, thou in Priam’s house in Troy, 555
  And I in Hypoplacian Thebes wood-crown’d
  Beneath Eetion’s roof.  He, doom’d himself
  To sorrow, me more sorrowfully doom’d,
  Sustain’d in helpless infancy, whom oh
  That he had ne’er begotten! thou descend’st 560
  To Pluto’s subterraneous dwelling drear,
  Leaving myself destitute, and thy boy,
  Fruit of our hapless loves, an infant yet,
  Never to be hereafter thy delight,
  Nor love of thine to share or kindness more. 565
  For should he safe survive this cruel war,
  With the Achaians penury and toil
  Must be his lot, since strangers will remove
  At will his landmarks, and possess his fields. 
  Thee lost, he loses all, of father, both, 570
  And equal playmate in one day deprived,
  To sad looks doom’d, and never-ceasing-tears. 
  He seeks, necessitous his father’s friends,
  One by his mantle pulls, one by his vest,
  Whose utmost pity yields to his parch’d lips 575
  A thirst-provoking drop, and grudges more;
  Some happier child, as yet untaught to mourn
  A parent’s loss, shoves rudely from the board
  My son, and, smiting him, reproachful cries—­
  Away—­thy father is no guest of ours—­ 580
  Then, weeping, to his widow’d mother comes
  Astyanax, who on his father’s lap
  Ate marrow only, once, and fat of lambs,[17]
  And when sleep took him, and his crying fit
  Had ceased, slept ever on the softest bed, 585
  Warm in his nurse’s arms, fed to his fill
  With delicacies, and his heart at rest. 
  But now, Astyanax (so named in Troy
  For thy sake, guardian of her gates and towers)
  His father lost, must many a pang endure. 590
  And as for thee, cast naked forth among
  Yon galleys, where no parent’s eye of thine
  Shall find thee, when the dogs have torn thee once
  Till they are sated, worms shall eat thee