Lyrics adapted and reworked by Frank DiGiacomo and Julian R. Pace from “The Trojan Women by Euripides”
by Edith Hamilton, translator, from THREE GREEK PLAYS: Prometheus Bound, Agamemnon, and The Trojan
Women, translated by Edith Hamilton.
Copyright © 1937 by W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., renewed © 1965 by Doris Fielding Reid.
Used by permission of W. W. Norton & Company, Inc.
and
from “Helen” by Euripides in THE BACCHAE AND OTHER PLAYS by Euripides,
translated by Philip Vellacott (Penguin UK 1954, Revised 1972). Copyright © Philip Vellacott, 1954, 1972.
Reproduced by permission of Penguin Books Ltd.

After Cassandra is carried off by the Greek soldiers, there follows an intense chorus, demanding of a Higher Power an explanation of the fate which has befallen Troy and its people: why blood drips upon the altar-steps of Zeus, why the mighty are cast down and the free made slave, as they see the silent road by which all mortal things are led to justice.

Included in the product offering is a transcription of the orchestration by the Composer to show the richness of the sound palette. The orchestral score for the excerpt listed is available. Contact singdigiacomo@gmail.com with your request.

The Scene One Final Chorus has not yet been performed. If your chorus or organization are interesting in learning and recording this piece, SingDiGiacomo would be interested in the results. If the DiGiacomo Family approves, your performance could be featured on this website and any sales accruing from your performance, available to you, or your organization. Please contact us at singdigiacomo@gmail.com for more information.

    LYRICS
    CHORUS:
    You, You, You!
    You who uphold the world
    whose throne is high above the world,
    You who cannot be known,
    whose judgement is beyond our measure.
    You, past our seeking, hard to find —
    Who are you? Who are you? Who are you?
    God, or necessity of what must be, or reason of our reason,
    whatever You are, I pray to You,
    seeing the silent road by which all mortal things
    are led by You to justice.
    Behold the city of Troy!
    Smoke only....all is gone,
    perished beneath Greek spears,
    a desert now where groves were.
    Blood drips down from the God’s shrines.
    Beside his hearth, Priam lies dead
    upon the altar-steps of Zeus,
    while to the Greek ships passes the Trojan treasure:
    gold in masses, armor, clothing stripped from the dead.
    No thought for what was holy and was God’s.
    See God’s hand that casts the mighty down
    and sets on high the lowly —
    driven like cattle captured in a raid, the free changed to a slave.

(Enter ANDROMACHE and ASTYANAX in a tumbril drawn by two guards,
on which stands Hector’s armor in effigy.)

    CHORUS:
    Number our sorrows, will you, measure them.
    One comes: the next one rivals it. Ah!