Andromache is slumped dry-eyed in a corner, still clutching Astyanax's swaddling clothes, and Helen, Queen once more when the rest of them are slaves, looks blankly out the window towards Sparta where her daughter waits.
Hecuba wants to shake them both for their insolence, to demand how they could dare think their grief greater than her own; but she goes to her daughters-in-law instead, and strokes their hair.
She has lost her sons already; she will not lose her daughters, too.
(This is Greek myth cycle more than the actual play, if that's okay?)
Andromache is slumped dry-eyed in a corner, still clutching Astyanax's swaddling clothes, and Helen, Queen once more when the rest of them are slaves, looks blankly out the window towards Sparta where her daughter waits.
Hecuba wants to shake them both for their insolence, to demand how they could dare think their grief greater than her own; but she goes to her daughters-in-law instead, and strokes their hair.
She has lost her sons already; she will not lose her daughters, too.