In ten long years of war? Between thy woes,
Andromache, and thine, O Hecuba,
I halt, and know not which to weep the more.
Hecuba: Weep whosesoe'er thou wilt—thou weepest mine.1060
While others bow beneath their single cares,
I feel the weight of all. All die to me;
Whatever grief there is, is Hecuba's.
Messenger: The maid is slain, the boy dashed from the walls.
But each has met his death with royal soul.
Andromache: Expound the deed in order, and display1065