_Andromache:_ Small space for tears, Ulysses, do I ask; Some scanty moments yet, I pray thee, grant, That I may close his eyes though living still, And do a mother's part. [_To_ Astyanax.] Lo, thou must die, For, though a child, thou art too greatly feared. Thy Troy awaits thee: go, in freedom's pride, 790 And see our Trojans, dead yet unenslaved. _Astyanax:_ O mother, mother, pity me and save! _Andromache:_ My son, why dost thou cling upon my robes, And seek the vain protection of my hand? As when the hungry lion's roar is heard, The frightened calf for safety presses close 795 Its mother's side; but that remorseless beast, Thrusting away the mother's timid form, With ravenous jaws doth grasp the lesser prey, And, crushing, drag it hence: so shalt thou, too, Be snatched away from me by heartless foes. Then take my tears and kisses, O my son, Take these poor locks, and, full of mother love, 800 Go speed thee to thy sire; and in his ear Speak these, thy grieving mother's parting words: "If still thy manes feel their former cares, And on the pyre thy love was not consumed, Why dost thou suffer thy Andromache To serve a Grecian lord, O cruel Hector? Why dost thou lie in careless indolence? 805 Achilles has returned." Take once again These hairs, these flowing tears, which still remain From Hector's piteous death; this fond caress And rain of parting kisses take for him. But leave this cloak to comfort my distress, For it, within his tomb and near his shade, Hath lain enwrapping thee. If to its folds 810 One tiny mote of his dear ashes clings, My eager lips shall seek it till they find. _Ulysses:_ Thy grief is limitless. Come, break away, And end our Grecian fleet's too long delay. [_He leads the boy away with him._] * * * * *