The Tragedies of Seneca / Translated into English Verse, to Which Have Been Appended Comparative Analyses of the Corresponding Greek and Roman Plays, and a Mythological Index

by Lucius Annaeus Seneca

Excel his father's valor and the years

Of old Laërtes. Pity my distress:

The only comfort left me in my woe,

Is this my son.

Ulysses: Produce the boy—and pray.

Andromache [goes to the tomb and calls to Astyanax]: Come forth, my son, from the place of thy hiding705

Where thy mother bestowed thee with weeping and fear.

[Astyanax appears from the tomb. Andromache presents him to Ulysses.]

Here, here is the lad, Ulysses, behold him;

The fear of thy armies, the dread of thy fleet!