And towers, no part, no lurking-place remains, Wherein a child might hide. Where shall I choose A covert safe? Behold the mighty tomb Wherein his father's sacred ashes lie, Whose massive pile the enemy has spared. This did old Priam rear in days of power, 485 Whose grief no stinted sepulture bestowed. Then to his father let me trust the child.-- But at the very thought a chilling sweat Invades my trembling limbs, for much I fear The gruesome omen of the place of death. 490 _Old Man:_ In danger, haste to shelter where ye may; In safety, choose. _Andromache:_ What hiding-place is safe From traitor's eyes? _Old Man:_ All witnesses remove. _Andromache:_ What if the foe inquire? _Old Man:_ Then answer thus: "He perished in the city's overthrow." This cause alone ere now hath safety found For many from the stroke of death--belief That they have died. _Andromache:_ But scanty hope is left; Too huge a weight of race doth press him down. Besides, what can it profit him to hide 495 Who must his shelter leave and face the foe? _Old Man:_ The victor's deadliest purposes are first. _Andromache:_ What trackless region, what obscure retreat Shall hold thee safe? Oh, who will bring us aid In our distress and doubt? Who will defend? O thou, who always didst protect thine own, 500 My Hector, guard us still. Accept the trust Which I in pious confidence impose; And in the faithful keeping of thy dust May he in safety dwell, to live again. Then son, betake thee hither to the tomb. Why backward strain, and shun that safe retreat? I read thy nature right: thou scornest fear. 505 But curb thy native pride, thy dauntless soul, And bear thee as thine altered fates direct. For see what feeble forces now are left: A sepulcher, a boy, a captive band. We cannot choose but yield us to our woes. Then come, make bold to enter the abode, The sacred dwelling of thy buried sire. If fate assist us in our wretchedness, 510 'Twill be to thee a safe retreat; if life The fates deny, thou hast a sepulcher. [_The boy enters the tomb, and the gates are closed and barred behind him._] _Old Man:_ Now do the bolted gates protect their charge. But thou, lest any sign of fear proclaim Where thou hast hid the boy, come far away. _Andromache:_ Who fears from near at hand, hath less of fear; 515 But, if thou wilt, take we our steps away. [Ulysses _is seen approaching._] _Old Man_: Now check thy words awhile, thy mourning cease; For hither bends the Ithacan his course.