Hecuba monologue — The Trojan Women of Euripides

Lo, yonder ships: I ne'er set foot on one, But tales and pictures tell, when over them Breaketh a storm not all too strong to stem, Each man strives hard, the tiller gripped, the mast Manned, the hull baled, to face it: till at last Too strong breaks the o'erwhelming sea: lo, then They cease, and yield them up as broken men To fate and the wild waters. Even so I in my many sorrows bear me low, Nor curse, nor strive that other things may be. The great wave rolled from God hath conquered me. But, O, let Hector and the fates that fell On Hector, sleep. Weep for him ne'er so well, Thy weeping shall not wake him. Honour thou The new lord that is set above thee now, And make of thine own gentle piety A prize to lure his heart. So shalt thou be A strength to them that love us, and--God knows, It may be--rear this babe among his foes, My Hector's child, to manhood and great aid For Ilion. So her stones may yet be laid One on another, if God will, and wrought Again to a city! Ah, how thought to thought Still beckons! . . . But what minion of the Greek Is this that cometh, with new words to speak?