Hermione from Andromache by Euripedes 1
Classical Greek – Women
Hermione (ll. 920-952)
Naturally. He’s within his rights to kill me.
What’s there to say? So I beg, by the God of Kindred.
Take me out of this land as far as possible
Or at least to my father’s home. The very walls here
Seem to be howling at me: go! go! go!
All Phthia hates me. If my husband comes
Home from Apollo’s oracle while I’m here
He’ll kill me on foul charges. Or I’ll be a slave
In the bastard-blooming chambers I was queen of.
“How did you fall so low?” someone may marvel.
Visits of poisonous women were my downfall.
They made me lose my head by talk like this:
“So you let that wretched captive, a slave in the house,
Have rights to your husband, share and share alike?
If she, in my home, meddled with my marriage
I swear by Hera that act would be her last!”
And I, attentive to the siren music
Of these sly, these lewd, these bablling know-it-alls,
Swelled up like a great fool. Oh why, oh why
Did I spy on my husband, having all I wanted?
Money more than enough. Control of the household.
The children I’d have had fully legitimate,
Hers illegitimate, half slaves to mine.
Oh never, never–I can’t say this too often–
Should a man with any sense, having taken a wife,
Let other women come and buzz around her.
What are they all but teachers of deliquency?
For one can make a profit by corrupting her;
Another has fallen and likes company;
Many love to make trouble–this is why
Our homes are a sink of evil. Against this
Double-lock your doors and bolt them too.
For not one wholesome thing has ever come
From gadabout female callers–only grief.