Chapter 114

Her.If all Thebes saw me, not a whit care I.But seeing as I did a certain birdNot in the lucky seats, I knew some woeWas fallen upon the house: so, purposely,By stealth I made my way into the land.Amph.And now, advancing, hail the hearth with praiseAnd give the ancestral home thine eye to see!For he himself will come, thy wife and sonsThe drag-forth—slaughter—slay me too,—this king!But, here remaining, all succeeds with thee—Gain lost by no false step. So, this thy townDisturb not, son, ere thou right matters here!Her.Thus will I do, for thou say'st well; my homeLet me first enter! Since at the due timeReturning from the unsunned depths where dwellsHaides' wife Koré, let me not affrontThose gods beneath my roof, I first should hail!Amph.For didst thou really visit Haides, son?Her.Ay—dragged to light, too, his three-headed beast.Amph.By fight didst conquer—or through Koré's gift?Her.Fight: well for me, I saw the Orgies first!Amph.And is he in Eurustheus' house, the brute?Her.Chthonia's grove, Hermion's city, holds him now.Amph.Does not Eurustheus know thee back on earth?Her.No: I would come first and see matters here.Amph.But how wast thou below ground such a time?Her.I stopped, from Haides, bringing Theseus up.Amph.And where is he?—bound o'er the plain for home?Her.Gone glad to Athens—Haides' fugitive!But, up, boys! follow father into house!There's a far better going-in for youTruly, than going-out was! Nay, take heart,And let the eyes no longer run and run!And thou, O wife, my own, collect thy soulNor tremble now! Leave grasping, all of you,My garments! I'm not winged, nor fly from friends!Ah,—No letting go for these, who all the moreHang to my garments! Did you foot indeedThe razor's edge? Why, then I'll carry them—Take with my hands these small craft up, and towJust as a ship would. There! don't fear I shirkMy children's service! this way, men are men,No difference! best and worst, they love their boysAfter one fashion: wealth they differ in—Some have it, others not; but each and allCombine to form the children-loving race.Cho.Youth is a pleasant burden to me;But age on my head, more heavilyThan the crags of Aitna, weighs and weighs,And darkening cloaks the lids and intercepts the rays.Never be mine the preferenceOf an Asian empire's wealth, nor yetOf a house all gold, to youth, to youthThat's beauty, whatever the gods dispense!Whether in wealth we joy, or fretPaupers,—of all God's gifts most beautiful, in truth!But miserable murderous age I hate!Let it go to wreck, the waves adown,Nor ever by rights plague tower or townWhere mortals bide, but still elateWith wings, on ether, precipitate,Wander them round—nor wait!But if the gods, to man's degree,Had wit and wisdom, they would bringMankind a twofold youth, to beTheir virtue's sign-mark, all should see,In those with whom life's winter thus grew spring.For when they died, into the sun once moreWould they have traversed twice life's race-course o'er;While ignobility had simply runExistence through, nor second life begun,And so might we discern both bad and goodAs surely as the starry multitudeIs numbered by the sailors, one and one.But now the gods by no apparent lineLimit the worthy and the base define;Only, a certain period rounds, and soBrings man more wealth,—but youthful vigor, no!Well! I am not to pauseMingling together—wine and wine in cup—The Graces with the Muses up—Most dulcet marriage: loosed from music's laws,No life for me!But where the wreaths abound, there ever may I be!And still, an aged bard, I shout Mnemosuné—Still chant of Herakles the triumph-chant,Companioned by the seven-stringed tortoise-shellAnd Libuan flute, and Bromios' self as well,God of the grape, with man participant!Not yet will we arrest their glad advance—The Muses who so long have led me forth to dance!A paian—hymn the Delian girls indeed,Weaving a beauteous measure in and outHis temple-gates, Latona's goodly seed;And paians—I too, these thy domes about,From these gray cheeks, my king, will swan-like shout—Old songster! Ay, in song it starts off brave—"Zeus' son is he!" and yet, such grace of birthSurpassing far, to man his labors gaveExistence, one calm flow without a wave,Having destroyed the beasts, the terrors of the earth.Luk.From out the house Amphitruon comes—in time!For 'tis a long while now since ye bedeckedYour bodies with the dead-folks' finery.But quick! the boys and wife of Herakles—Bid them appear outside this house, keep pactTo die, and need no bidding but your own!Amph.King! you press hard on me sore-pressed enough,And give me scorn—beside my dead ones here.Meet in such matters were it, though you reign,To temper zeal with moderation. SinceYou do impose on us the need to die—Needs must we love our lot, obey your will.Luk.Where's Megara, then? Alkmené's grandsons, where?Amph.She, I think,—as one figures from outside,—Luk.Well, this same thinking,—what affords its ground?Amph.—Sits suppliant on the holy altar-steps,—Luk.Idly indeed a suppliant to save life!Amph.—And calls on her dead husband, vainly too!Luk.For he's not come, nor ever will arrive.Amph.Never—at least, if no god raise him up.Luk.Go to her, and conduct her from the house!Amph.I should partake the murder, doing that.Luk.We,—since thou hast a scruple in the case,—Outside of fears, we shall march forth these lads,Mother and all. Here, follow me, my folk—And gladly so remove what stops our toils!Amph.Thou—go then! March where needs must! What remains—Perhaps concerns another. Doing ill,Expect some ill be done thee!Ha, old friends!On he strides beautifully! in the toilsO' the net, where swords spring forth, will he be fast—Minded to kill his neighbors—the arch-knave!I go, too—I must see the falling corpse!For he has sweets to give—a dying man,Your foe, that pays the price of deeds he did.Cho.Troubles are over! He the great king once,Turns the point, tends for Haides, goal of life!O justice, and the gods' back-flowing fate!Amph.Thou art come, late indeed, where death pays crime—These insults heaped on better than thyself!Cho.Joy gives this outburst to my tears! AgainCome round those deeds, his doing, which of oldHe never dreamed himself was to endure—King of the country! But enough, old man!Indoors, now, let us see how matters stand—If somebody be faring as I wish!Luk.Ah me—me!Cho.This strikes the keynote—music to my mind,Merry i' the household! Death takes up the tune!The king gives voice, groans murder's prelude well!Luk.O all the land of Kadmos! slain by guile!Cho.Ay, for who slew first? Paying back thy due,Resign thee! make, for deeds done, mere amends!Who was it grazed the gods through lawlessness—Mortal himself, threw up his fools'-conceitAgainst the blessed heavenly ones—as thoughGods had no power? Old friends, the impious manExists not any more! The house is mute.Turn we to song and dance! For, those I love,Those I wish well to, well fare they, to wish!Dances, dances and banquetingTo Thebes, the sacred city through,Are a care! for, change and changeOf tears to laughter, old to new,Our lays, glad birth, they bring, they bring!He is gone and past, the mighty king!And the old one reigns, returned—Oh, strange!From the Acherontian harbor too!Advent of hope, beyond thought's widest range!To the gods, the gods, are crimes a care,And they watch our virtue, well awareThat gold and that prosperity drive manOut of his mind—those charioteers who haleMight-without-right behind them: face who canFortune's reverse which time prepares, nor quail?—He who evades law and in lawlessnessDelights him,—he has broken down his trust—The chariot, riches haled—now blackening in the dust!Ismenos, go thou garlanded!Break into dance, ye ways, the polished bedO' the seven-gated city! Dirké, thouFair-flowing, with the Asopiad sisters all,Leave your sire's stream, attend the festivalOf Herakles, one choir of nymphs, sing triumph now!O woody rock of Puthios and each homeO the Helikonian Muses, ye shall comeWith joyous shouting to my walls, my townWhere saw the light that Spartan race, those "Sown,"Brazen-shield-bearing chiefs, whereof the bandWith children's children renovates our land,To Thebes a sacred light!O combination of the marriage rite—Bed of the mortal-born and Zeus, who couchedBeside the nymph of Perseus' progeny!For credible, past hope, becomes to meThat nuptial story long ago avouched,O Zeus! and time has turned the dark to bright,And made one blaze of truth the Herakleidan might—His, who emerged from earth's pavilion, leftPlouton's abode, the nether palace-cleft,Thou wast the lord that nature gave me—notThat baseness born and bred—my king, by lot!—Baseness made plain to all, who now regardThe match of sword with sword in fight,—If to the gods the Just and RightStill pleasing be, still claim the palm's award.Horror!Are we come to the selfsame passion of fear,Old friends?—such a phantasm fronts me hereVisible over the palace-roof!In flight, in flight, the laggard limbBestir! and haste aloofFrom that on the roof there—grand and grim!O Paian, king!Be thou my safeguard from the woeful thing!Iris.Courage, old men! beholding here—Night's birth—Madness, and me the handmaid of the gods,Iris: since to your town we come, no plague—Wage war against the house of but one manFrom Zeus and from Alkmené sprung, they say.Now, till he made an end of bitter toils,Fate kept him safe, nor did his father ZeusLet us once hurt him, Heré nor myself.But, since he has toiled through Eurustheus' task,Heré desires to fix fresh blood on him—Slaying his children: I desire it too.Up then, collecting the unsoftened heart,Unwedded virgin of black Night! Drive, dragFrenzy upon the man here—whirls of brainBig with child-murder, while his feet leap gay!Let go the bloody cable its whole length!So that,—when o'er the Acherousian fordHe has sent floating, by self-homicide,His beautiful boy-garland,—he may knowFirst, Heré's anger, what it is to him,And then learn mine. The gods are vile indeedAnd mortal matters vast, if he 'scape free!Madness.Certes, from well-born sire and mother tooHad I my birth, whose blood is Night's and Heaven's;But here's my glory,—not to grudge the good!Nor love I raids against the friends of man.I wish, then, to persuade,—before I seeYou stumbling, you and Heré! trust my words!This man, the house of whom ye hound me to,Is not unfamed on earth nor gods among;Since, having quelled waste land and savage sea,He alone raised again the falling rightsOf gods—gone ruinous through impious men.Desire no mighty mischief, I advise!Iris.Give thou no thought to Heré's faulty schemes!Mad.Changing her step from faulty to fault-free!Iris.Not to be wise, did Zeus' wife send thee here!Mad.Sun, thee I cite to witness—doing what I loathe to do!But since indeed to Heré and thyself I must subserve.And follow you quick, with a whiz, as the hounds a-hunt with the huntsman,—Go I will! and neither the sea, as it groans with its waves so furiously,Nor earthquake, no, nor the bolt of thunder gasping out heaven's labor-throe,Shall cover the ground as I, at a bound, rush into the bosom of Herakles!And home I scatter, and house I batter,Having first of all made the children fall,—And he who felled them is never to knowHe gave birth to each child that received the blow,Till the Madness, I am, have let him go!Ha, behold, already he rocks his head—he is off from the starting-place!Not a word, as he rolls his frightful orbs, from their sockets wrenched in the ghastly race!And the breathings of him he tempers and times no more than a bull in act to toss,And hideously he bellows invoking the Keres, daughters of Tartaros.Ay, and I soon will dance thee madder, and pipe thee quite out of thy mind with fear!So, up with the famous foot, thou Iris, march to Olumpos, leave me here!Me and mine, who now combine, in the dreadful shape no mortal sees,And now are about to pass, from without, inside of the home of Herakles!Cho.Otototoi,—groan! Away is mownThy flower, Zeus' offspring, City!Unhappy Hellas, who dost cast (the pity!)Who worked thee all the good,Away from thee,—destroyest in a moodOf madness him, to death whom pipings dance!There goes she, in her chariot—groans, her brood—And gives her team the goad, as though adriftFor doom, Night's Gorgon, Madness, she whose glanceTurns man to marble! with what hissings liftTheir hundred heads the snakes, her head's inheritance!Quick has the god changed fortune: through their sireQuick will the children, that he saved, expire!O miserable me! O Zeus! thy child—Childless himself—soon vengeance, hunger-wild,Craving for punishment, will lay how low—Loaded with many a woe!O palace-roofs! your courts about,A measure begins all unrejoicedBy the tympanies and the thyrsos hoistOf the Bromian revel-rout!O ye domes! and the measure proceedsFor blood, not such as the cluster bleedsOf the Dionusian pouring-out!Break forth, fly, children! fatal this—Fatal the lay that is piped, I wis!Ay, for he hunts a children-chase—Never shall Madness lead her revelAnd leave no trace in the dwelling-place!Ai ai, because of the evil!Ai ai, the old man—how I groanFor the father, and not the father alone!She who was nurse of his children,—smallHer gain that they ever were born at all!See! See!A whirlwind shakes hither and thitherThe house—the roof falls in together!Ha, ha! what dost thou, son of Zeus?A trouble of Tartaros broke loose,Such as once Pallas on the Titan thundered,Thou sendest on thy domes, roof-shattered and wall-sundered!Messenger.O bodies white with age!—Cho.What cry, to me—What, dost thou call with?Mes.There 's a curse indoors!Cho.I shall not bring a prophet: you suffice!Mes.Dead are the children!Cho.Ai ai!Mes.Groan! for, groansSuit well the subject! Dire the children's death,Dire too the parent's hands that dealt the fate.No one could tell worse woe than we have borne!Cho.How dost thou that same curse—curse, cause for groanThe father's on the children, make appear?Tell in what matter they were hurled from heavenAgainst the house—these evils; and recountThe children's hapless fate, O Messenger!Mes.The victims were before the hearth of ZeusA household-expiation: since the kingO' the country, Herakles had killed and castFrom out the dwelling; and a beauteous choirOf boys stood by his sire, too, and his wife.And now the basket had been carried roundThe altar in a circle, and we usedThe consecrated speech. Alkmené's son—Just as he was about, in his right hand,To bear the torch, that he might dip intoThe cleansing-water—came to a stand-still;And, as their father yet delayed, his boysHad their eyes on him. But he was himselfNo longer: lost in rollings of the eyes;Out-thrusting eyes—their very roots—like blood!Froth he dropped down his bushy-bearded cheek,And said—together with a madman's laugh—"Father! why sacrifice, before I slayEurustheus? why have twice the lustral fire,And double pains, when 't is permitted meTo end, with one good hand-sweep, matters here?Then,—when I hither bring Eurustheus' head,—Then for these just slain, wash hands once for all!Now,—cast drink-offerings forth, throw baskets down!Who gives me bow and arrows, who my club?I go to that Mukenai! One must matchCrowbars and mattocks, so that—those sunk stonesThe Kuklops squared with picks and plumb-line red.I, with my bent steel, may o'ertumble town!"Which said, he goes and—with no car to have—Affirms he has one! mounts the chariot-board,And strikes, as having really goad in hand!And two ways laughed the servants—laugh with awe;And one said, as each met the other's stare,"Playing us boys' tricks? or is master mad?"But up he climbs, and down along the roof,And, dropping into the men's place, maintainsHe 's come to Nisos city, when he 's comeOnly inside his own house! then reclinesOn floor, for couch, and, as arrived indeed,Makes himself supper; goes through some brief stay,Then says he 's traversing the forest-flatsOf Isthmos; thereupon lays body bareOf bucklings, and begins a contest with—No one! and is proclaimed the conqueror—He by himself—having called out to hear—Nobody! Then, if you will take his word,Blaring against Eurustheus horribly,He 's at Mukenai. But his father laidHold of the strong hand and addressed him thus:"O son, what ails thee? Of what sort is thisExtravagance? Has not some murder-craze,Bred of those corpses thou didst just dispatch,Danced thee drunk?" But he,—taking him to crouch,Eurustheus' sire, that apprehensive touchedHis hand, a suppliant,—pushes him aside,Gets ready quiver, and bends low againstHis children—thinking them Eurustheus' boysHe means to slay. They, horrified with fear,Rushed here and there,—this child, into the robesO' the wretched mother,—this, beneath the shadeO' the column,—and this other, like a bird,Cowered at the altar-foot. The mother shrieks,"Parent—what dost thou?—kill thy children?" SoShriek the old sire and crowd of servitors.But he, outwinding him, as round aboutThe column ran the boy,—a horrid whirlO' the lathe his foot described!—stands opposite,Strikes through the liver! and supine the boyBedews the stone shafts, breathing out his life.But "Victory" he shouted! boasted thus:"Well, this one nestling of Eurustheus—dead—Falls by me, pays back the paternal hate!"Then bends bow on another who was crouchedAt base of altar—overlooked, he thought—And now prevents him, falls at father's knee,Throwing up hand to beard and cheek above."O dearest!" cries he, "father, kill me not!Yours, I am—your boy: not Eurustheus' boyYou kill now!" But he, rolling the wild eyeOf Gorgon,—as the boy stood all too closeFor deadly bowshot,—mimicry of smithWho batters red-hot iron,—hand o'er headHeaving his club, on the boy's yellow hairHurls it and breaks the bone. This second caught,—He goes, would slay the third, one sacrificeHe and the couple; but, beforehand here,The miserable mother catches up,Carries him inside house and bars the gate.Then he, as he were at those Kuklops' work,Digs at, heaves doors up, wrenches doorposts out,Lays wife and child low with the selfsame shaft.And this done, at the old man's death he drives;But there came, as it seemed to us who saw,A statue—Pallas with the crested head,Swinging her spear—and threw a stone which smoteHerakles' breast and stayed his slaughter-rage,And sent him safe to sleep. He falls to ground—Striking against the column with his back—Column which, with the falling of the roof,Broken in two, lay by the altar-base.And we, foot-free now from our several flights,Along with the old man, we fastened bondsOf rope-noose to the column, so that he,Ceasing from sleep, might not go adding deedsTo deeds done. And he sleeps a sleep, poor wretch,No gift of any god! since he has slainChildren and wife. For me, I do not knowWhat mortal has more misery to bear.Cho.A murder there was which ArgolisHolds in remembrance, Hellas through,As, at that time, best and famousest:Of those, the daughters of Danaos slew.A murder indeed was that! but thisOutstrips it, straight to the goal has pressed.I am able to speak of a murder doneTo the hapless Zeus-born offspring, too—Proknè's son, who had but one—Or a sacrifice to the Muses, sayRather, who Itus sing alway,Her single child! But thou, the sireOf children three—O thou consuming fire!—In one outrageous fate hast made them all expire!And this outrageous fate—What groan, or wail, or deadmen's dirge,Or choric dance of Haides shall I urgeThe Muse to celebrate?Woe! woe! behold!The portalled palace lies unrolled,This way and that way, each prodigious fold!Alas for me! these children, see,Stretched, hapless group, before their father—heThe all-unhappy, who lies sleeping outThe murder of his sons, a dreadful sleep!And bonds, see, all about,—Rope-tangle, ties and tether,—theseTightenings around the body of HeraklesTo the stone columns of the house made fast!But—like a bird that grievesFor callow nestlings some rude hand bereaves—See, here, a bitter journey overpast,The old man—all too late—is here at last!Amph.Silently, silently, aged Kadmeians!Will ye not suffer my son, diffusedYonder, to slide from his sorrows in sleep?Cho.And thee, old man, do I, groaning, weep,And the children too, and the head there—usedOf old to the wreaths and paians!Amph.Farther away! Nor beat the breast,Nor wail aloud, nor rouse from restThe slumberer—asleep, so best!Cho.Ah me—what a slaughter!Amph.Refrain—refrain!Ye will prove my perdition!Cho.Unlike water,Bloodshed rises from earth again!Amph.Do I bid you bate your breath, in vain—Ye elders? Lament in a softer strain!Lest he rouse himself, burst every chain,And bury the city in ravage—brayFather and house to dust away!Cho.I cannot forbear—I cannot forbear!Amph.Hush! I will learn his breathings: there!I will lay my ears close.Cho.What, he sleeps?Amph.Ay,—sleeps! A horror of slumber keepsThe man who has piledOn wife and childDeath and death, as he shot them downWith clang o'the bow.Cho.Wail—Amph.Even so!Cho.—The fate of the children—Amph.Triple woe!Cho.—Old man, the fate of thy son!Amph.Hush, hush! Have done!He is turning about!He is breaking out!Away! I stealAnd my body conceal,Before he arouse,In the depths of the house!Cho.Courage! The NightMaintains her rightOn the lids of thy son there, sealed from sight!Amph.See, see! To leave the lightAnd, wretch that I am, bear one last ill,I do not avoid; but if he killMe, his own father, and deviseBeyond the present miseriesA misery more ghastly still—And to haunt him, over and aboveThose here who, as they used to love,Now hate him, what if he have with theseMy murder, the worst of Erinues?Cho.Then was the time to die, for thee,When ready to wreak in the full degreeVengeance on thoseThy consort's foesWho murdered her brothers! glad, life's close,With the Taphioi down,And sacked their townClustered about with a wash of sea!Amph.Tonight—to flight!Away from the house, troop off, old men!Save yourselves out of the maniac's sight!He is rousing himself right up: and then,Murder on murder heaping anew,He will revel in blood your city through!Cho.O Zeus, why hast, with such unmeasured hate,Hated thy son, whelmed in this sea of woes?Her.Ha,—In breath indeed I am—see things I ought—Æther, and earth, and these the sunbeam-shafts!But then—some billow and strange whirl of senseI have fallen into! and breathings hot I breathe—Smoked upwards, not the steady work from lungs.See now! Why, bound—at moorings like a ship,—About my young breast and young arm, to thisStone piece of carved work broke in half, do ISit, have my rest in corpses' neighborhood?Strewn on the ground are wingèd darts, and bowWhich played, my brother-shieldman, held in hand,—Guarded my side, and got my guardianship!I cannot have gone back to Haides—twice.Begun Eurustheus' race I ended thence?But I nor see the Sisupheian stone,Nor Plouton, nor Demeter's sceptred maid!I am struck witless sure! Where can I be?Ho there! what friend of mine is near or far—Some one to cure me of bewilderment?For naught familiar do I recognize.Amph.Old friends, shall I go close to these my woes?Cho.Ay, and let me too,—nor desert your ills!Her.Father, why weepest thou, and buriest upThine eyes, aloof so from thy much-loved son?Amph.O child!—for, faring badly, mine thou art!Her.Do I fare somehow ill, that tears should flow?Amph.Ill,—would cause any god who bore to groan!Her.That's boasting, truly! still, you state no hap.Amph.For, thyself seest—if in thy wits again.Her.Heyday! How riddlingly that hint returns!Amph.Well, I am trying—art thou sane and sound!Her.Say if thou lay'st aught strange to my life's charge!Amph.If thou no more art Haides-drunk,—I tell!Her.I bring to mind no drunkenness of soul.Amph.Shall I unbind my son, old men, or what?Her.And who was binder, tell!—notthat, my deed!Amph.Mind that much of misfortune—pass the rest!Her.Enough! from silence, I nor learn nor wish.Amph.O Zeus, dost witness here throned Heré's work?Her.But have I had to bear aught hostile thence?Amph.Let be the goddess—bury thine own guilt!Her.Undone! What is the sorrow thou wilt say?Amph.Look! See the ruins of thy children here!Her.Ah me! What sight do wretched I behold?Amph.Unfair fight, son, this fight thou fastenedstOn thine own children!Her.What fight? Who slew these?Amph.Thou and thy bow, and who of gods was cause.Her.How say'st? What did I? Ill-announcing sire!Amph.—Go mad! Thou askest a sad clearing up!

Her.If all Thebes saw me, not a whit care I.But seeing as I did a certain birdNot in the lucky seats, I knew some woeWas fallen upon the house: so, purposely,By stealth I made my way into the land.

Her.If all Thebes saw me, not a whit care I.

But seeing as I did a certain bird

Not in the lucky seats, I knew some woe

Was fallen upon the house: so, purposely,

By stealth I made my way into the land.

Amph.And now, advancing, hail the hearth with praiseAnd give the ancestral home thine eye to see!For he himself will come, thy wife and sonsThe drag-forth—slaughter—slay me too,—this king!But, here remaining, all succeeds with thee—Gain lost by no false step. So, this thy townDisturb not, son, ere thou right matters here!

Amph.And now, advancing, hail the hearth with praise

And give the ancestral home thine eye to see!

For he himself will come, thy wife and sons

The drag-forth—slaughter—slay me too,—this king!

But, here remaining, all succeeds with thee—

Gain lost by no false step. So, this thy town

Disturb not, son, ere thou right matters here!

Her.Thus will I do, for thou say'st well; my homeLet me first enter! Since at the due timeReturning from the unsunned depths where dwellsHaides' wife Koré, let me not affrontThose gods beneath my roof, I first should hail!

Her.Thus will I do, for thou say'st well; my home

Let me first enter! Since at the due time

Returning from the unsunned depths where dwells

Haides' wife Koré, let me not affront

Those gods beneath my roof, I first should hail!

Amph.For didst thou really visit Haides, son?

Her.Ay—dragged to light, too, his three-headed beast.

Amph.By fight didst conquer—or through Koré's gift?

Her.Fight: well for me, I saw the Orgies first!

Amph.And is he in Eurustheus' house, the brute?

Her.Chthonia's grove, Hermion's city, holds him now.

Amph.Does not Eurustheus know thee back on earth?

Her.No: I would come first and see matters here.

Amph.But how wast thou below ground such a time?

Her.I stopped, from Haides, bringing Theseus up.

Amph.And where is he?—bound o'er the plain for home?

Her.Gone glad to Athens—Haides' fugitive!But, up, boys! follow father into house!There's a far better going-in for youTruly, than going-out was! Nay, take heart,And let the eyes no longer run and run!And thou, O wife, my own, collect thy soulNor tremble now! Leave grasping, all of you,My garments! I'm not winged, nor fly from friends!Ah,—No letting go for these, who all the moreHang to my garments! Did you foot indeedThe razor's edge? Why, then I'll carry them—Take with my hands these small craft up, and towJust as a ship would. There! don't fear I shirkMy children's service! this way, men are men,No difference! best and worst, they love their boysAfter one fashion: wealth they differ in—Some have it, others not; but each and allCombine to form the children-loving race.

Her.Gone glad to Athens—Haides' fugitive!

But, up, boys! follow father into house!

There's a far better going-in for you

Truly, than going-out was! Nay, take heart,

And let the eyes no longer run and run!

And thou, O wife, my own, collect thy soul

Nor tremble now! Leave grasping, all of you,

My garments! I'm not winged, nor fly from friends!

Ah,—

No letting go for these, who all the more

Hang to my garments! Did you foot indeed

The razor's edge? Why, then I'll carry them—

Take with my hands these small craft up, and tow

Just as a ship would. There! don't fear I shirk

My children's service! this way, men are men,

No difference! best and worst, they love their boys

After one fashion: wealth they differ in—

Some have it, others not; but each and all

Combine to form the children-loving race.

Cho.Youth is a pleasant burden to me;But age on my head, more heavilyThan the crags of Aitna, weighs and weighs,And darkening cloaks the lids and intercepts the rays.Never be mine the preferenceOf an Asian empire's wealth, nor yetOf a house all gold, to youth, to youthThat's beauty, whatever the gods dispense!Whether in wealth we joy, or fretPaupers,—of all God's gifts most beautiful, in truth!

Cho.Youth is a pleasant burden to me;

But age on my head, more heavily

Than the crags of Aitna, weighs and weighs,

And darkening cloaks the lids and intercepts the rays.

Never be mine the preference

Of an Asian empire's wealth, nor yet

Of a house all gold, to youth, to youth

That's beauty, whatever the gods dispense!

Whether in wealth we joy, or fret

Paupers,—of all God's gifts most beautiful, in truth!

But miserable murderous age I hate!Let it go to wreck, the waves adown,Nor ever by rights plague tower or townWhere mortals bide, but still elateWith wings, on ether, precipitate,Wander them round—nor wait!

But miserable murderous age I hate!

Let it go to wreck, the waves adown,

Nor ever by rights plague tower or town

Where mortals bide, but still elate

With wings, on ether, precipitate,

Wander them round—nor wait!

But if the gods, to man's degree,Had wit and wisdom, they would bringMankind a twofold youth, to beTheir virtue's sign-mark, all should see,In those with whom life's winter thus grew spring.For when they died, into the sun once moreWould they have traversed twice life's race-course o'er;While ignobility had simply runExistence through, nor second life begun,And so might we discern both bad and goodAs surely as the starry multitudeIs numbered by the sailors, one and one.But now the gods by no apparent lineLimit the worthy and the base define;Only, a certain period rounds, and soBrings man more wealth,—but youthful vigor, no!

But if the gods, to man's degree,

Had wit and wisdom, they would bring

Mankind a twofold youth, to be

Their virtue's sign-mark, all should see,

In those with whom life's winter thus grew spring.

For when they died, into the sun once more

Would they have traversed twice life's race-course o'er;

While ignobility had simply run

Existence through, nor second life begun,

And so might we discern both bad and good

As surely as the starry multitude

Is numbered by the sailors, one and one.

But now the gods by no apparent line

Limit the worthy and the base define;

Only, a certain period rounds, and so

Brings man more wealth,—but youthful vigor, no!

Well! I am not to pauseMingling together—wine and wine in cup—The Graces with the Muses up—Most dulcet marriage: loosed from music's laws,No life for me!But where the wreaths abound, there ever may I be!And still, an aged bard, I shout Mnemosuné—Still chant of Herakles the triumph-chant,Companioned by the seven-stringed tortoise-shellAnd Libuan flute, and Bromios' self as well,God of the grape, with man participant!Not yet will we arrest their glad advance—The Muses who so long have led me forth to dance!A paian—hymn the Delian girls indeed,Weaving a beauteous measure in and outHis temple-gates, Latona's goodly seed;And paians—I too, these thy domes about,From these gray cheeks, my king, will swan-like shout—Old songster! Ay, in song it starts off brave—"Zeus' son is he!" and yet, such grace of birthSurpassing far, to man his labors gaveExistence, one calm flow without a wave,Having destroyed the beasts, the terrors of the earth.

Well! I am not to pause

Mingling together—wine and wine in cup—

The Graces with the Muses up—

Most dulcet marriage: loosed from music's laws,

No life for me!

But where the wreaths abound, there ever may I be!

And still, an aged bard, I shout Mnemosuné—

Still chant of Herakles the triumph-chant,

Companioned by the seven-stringed tortoise-shell

And Libuan flute, and Bromios' self as well,

God of the grape, with man participant!

Not yet will we arrest their glad advance—

The Muses who so long have led me forth to dance!

A paian—hymn the Delian girls indeed,

Weaving a beauteous measure in and out

His temple-gates, Latona's goodly seed;

And paians—I too, these thy domes about,

From these gray cheeks, my king, will swan-like shout—

Old songster! Ay, in song it starts off brave—

"Zeus' son is he!" and yet, such grace of birth

Surpassing far, to man his labors gave

Existence, one calm flow without a wave,

Having destroyed the beasts, the terrors of the earth.

Luk.From out the house Amphitruon comes—in time!For 'tis a long while now since ye bedeckedYour bodies with the dead-folks' finery.But quick! the boys and wife of Herakles—Bid them appear outside this house, keep pactTo die, and need no bidding but your own!

Luk.From out the house Amphitruon comes—in time!

For 'tis a long while now since ye bedecked

Your bodies with the dead-folks' finery.

But quick! the boys and wife of Herakles—

Bid them appear outside this house, keep pact

To die, and need no bidding but your own!

Amph.King! you press hard on me sore-pressed enough,And give me scorn—beside my dead ones here.Meet in such matters were it, though you reign,To temper zeal with moderation. SinceYou do impose on us the need to die—Needs must we love our lot, obey your will.

Amph.King! you press hard on me sore-pressed enough,

And give me scorn—beside my dead ones here.

Meet in such matters were it, though you reign,

To temper zeal with moderation. Since

You do impose on us the need to die—

Needs must we love our lot, obey your will.

Luk.Where's Megara, then? Alkmené's grandsons, where?

Amph.She, I think,—as one figures from outside,—

Luk.Well, this same thinking,—what affords its ground?

Amph.—Sits suppliant on the holy altar-steps,—

Luk.Idly indeed a suppliant to save life!

Amph.—And calls on her dead husband, vainly too!

Luk.For he's not come, nor ever will arrive.

Amph.Never—at least, if no god raise him up.

Luk.Go to her, and conduct her from the house!

Amph.I should partake the murder, doing that.

Luk.We,—since thou hast a scruple in the case,—Outside of fears, we shall march forth these lads,Mother and all. Here, follow me, my folk—And gladly so remove what stops our toils!

Luk.We,—since thou hast a scruple in the case,—

Outside of fears, we shall march forth these lads,

Mother and all. Here, follow me, my folk—

And gladly so remove what stops our toils!

Amph.Thou—go then! March where needs must! What remains—Perhaps concerns another. Doing ill,Expect some ill be done thee!Ha, old friends!On he strides beautifully! in the toilsO' the net, where swords spring forth, will he be fast—Minded to kill his neighbors—the arch-knave!I go, too—I must see the falling corpse!For he has sweets to give—a dying man,Your foe, that pays the price of deeds he did.

Amph.Thou—go then! March where needs must! What remains—

Perhaps concerns another. Doing ill,

Expect some ill be done thee!

Ha, old friends!

On he strides beautifully! in the toils

O' the net, where swords spring forth, will he be fast—

Minded to kill his neighbors—the arch-knave!

I go, too—I must see the falling corpse!

For he has sweets to give—a dying man,

Your foe, that pays the price of deeds he did.

Cho.Troubles are over! He the great king once,Turns the point, tends for Haides, goal of life!O justice, and the gods' back-flowing fate!

Cho.Troubles are over! He the great king once,

Turns the point, tends for Haides, goal of life!

O justice, and the gods' back-flowing fate!

Amph.Thou art come, late indeed, where death pays crime—These insults heaped on better than thyself!

Amph.Thou art come, late indeed, where death pays crime—

These insults heaped on better than thyself!

Cho.Joy gives this outburst to my tears! AgainCome round those deeds, his doing, which of oldHe never dreamed himself was to endure—King of the country! But enough, old man!Indoors, now, let us see how matters stand—If somebody be faring as I wish!

Cho.Joy gives this outburst to my tears! Again

Come round those deeds, his doing, which of old

He never dreamed himself was to endure—

King of the country! But enough, old man!

Indoors, now, let us see how matters stand—

If somebody be faring as I wish!

Luk.Ah me—me!

Cho.This strikes the keynote—music to my mind,Merry i' the household! Death takes up the tune!The king gives voice, groans murder's prelude well!

Cho.This strikes the keynote—music to my mind,

Merry i' the household! Death takes up the tune!

The king gives voice, groans murder's prelude well!

Luk.O all the land of Kadmos! slain by guile!

Cho.Ay, for who slew first? Paying back thy due,Resign thee! make, for deeds done, mere amends!Who was it grazed the gods through lawlessness—Mortal himself, threw up his fools'-conceitAgainst the blessed heavenly ones—as thoughGods had no power? Old friends, the impious manExists not any more! The house is mute.Turn we to song and dance! For, those I love,Those I wish well to, well fare they, to wish!

Cho.Ay, for who slew first? Paying back thy due,

Resign thee! make, for deeds done, mere amends!

Who was it grazed the gods through lawlessness—

Mortal himself, threw up his fools'-conceit

Against the blessed heavenly ones—as though

Gods had no power? Old friends, the impious man

Exists not any more! The house is mute.

Turn we to song and dance! For, those I love,

Those I wish well to, well fare they, to wish!

Dances, dances and banquetingTo Thebes, the sacred city through,Are a care! for, change and changeOf tears to laughter, old to new,Our lays, glad birth, they bring, they bring!He is gone and past, the mighty king!And the old one reigns, returned—Oh, strange!From the Acherontian harbor too!Advent of hope, beyond thought's widest range!To the gods, the gods, are crimes a care,And they watch our virtue, well awareThat gold and that prosperity drive manOut of his mind—those charioteers who haleMight-without-right behind them: face who canFortune's reverse which time prepares, nor quail?—He who evades law and in lawlessnessDelights him,—he has broken down his trust—The chariot, riches haled—now blackening in the dust!

Dances, dances and banqueting

To Thebes, the sacred city through,

Are a care! for, change and change

Of tears to laughter, old to new,

Our lays, glad birth, they bring, they bring!

He is gone and past, the mighty king!

And the old one reigns, returned—Oh, strange!

From the Acherontian harbor too!

Advent of hope, beyond thought's widest range!

To the gods, the gods, are crimes a care,

And they watch our virtue, well aware

That gold and that prosperity drive man

Out of his mind—those charioteers who hale

Might-without-right behind them: face who can

Fortune's reverse which time prepares, nor quail?

—He who evades law and in lawlessness

Delights him,—he has broken down his trust—

The chariot, riches haled—now blackening in the dust!

Ismenos, go thou garlanded!Break into dance, ye ways, the polished bedO' the seven-gated city! Dirké, thouFair-flowing, with the Asopiad sisters all,Leave your sire's stream, attend the festivalOf Herakles, one choir of nymphs, sing triumph now!O woody rock of Puthios and each homeO the Helikonian Muses, ye shall comeWith joyous shouting to my walls, my townWhere saw the light that Spartan race, those "Sown,"Brazen-shield-bearing chiefs, whereof the bandWith children's children renovates our land,To Thebes a sacred light!O combination of the marriage rite—Bed of the mortal-born and Zeus, who couchedBeside the nymph of Perseus' progeny!For credible, past hope, becomes to meThat nuptial story long ago avouched,O Zeus! and time has turned the dark to bright,And made one blaze of truth the Herakleidan might—His, who emerged from earth's pavilion, leftPlouton's abode, the nether palace-cleft,Thou wast the lord that nature gave me—notThat baseness born and bred—my king, by lot!—Baseness made plain to all, who now regardThe match of sword with sword in fight,—If to the gods the Just and RightStill pleasing be, still claim the palm's award.

Ismenos, go thou garlanded!

Break into dance, ye ways, the polished bed

O' the seven-gated city! Dirké, thou

Fair-flowing, with the Asopiad sisters all,

Leave your sire's stream, attend the festival

Of Herakles, one choir of nymphs, sing triumph now!

O woody rock of Puthios and each home

O the Helikonian Muses, ye shall come

With joyous shouting to my walls, my town

Where saw the light that Spartan race, those "Sown,"

Brazen-shield-bearing chiefs, whereof the band

With children's children renovates our land,

To Thebes a sacred light!

O combination of the marriage rite—

Bed of the mortal-born and Zeus, who couched

Beside the nymph of Perseus' progeny!

For credible, past hope, becomes to me

That nuptial story long ago avouched,

O Zeus! and time has turned the dark to bright,

And made one blaze of truth the Herakleidan might—

His, who emerged from earth's pavilion, left

Plouton's abode, the nether palace-cleft,

Thou wast the lord that nature gave me—not

That baseness born and bred—my king, by lot!

—Baseness made plain to all, who now regard

The match of sword with sword in fight,—

If to the gods the Just and Right

Still pleasing be, still claim the palm's award.

Horror!Are we come to the selfsame passion of fear,Old friends?—such a phantasm fronts me hereVisible over the palace-roof!In flight, in flight, the laggard limbBestir! and haste aloofFrom that on the roof there—grand and grim!O Paian, king!Be thou my safeguard from the woeful thing!

Horror!

Are we come to the selfsame passion of fear,

Old friends?—such a phantasm fronts me here

Visible over the palace-roof!

In flight, in flight, the laggard limb

Bestir! and haste aloof

From that on the roof there—grand and grim!

O Paian, king!

Be thou my safeguard from the woeful thing!

Iris.Courage, old men! beholding here—Night's birth—Madness, and me the handmaid of the gods,Iris: since to your town we come, no plague—Wage war against the house of but one manFrom Zeus and from Alkmené sprung, they say.Now, till he made an end of bitter toils,Fate kept him safe, nor did his father ZeusLet us once hurt him, Heré nor myself.But, since he has toiled through Eurustheus' task,Heré desires to fix fresh blood on him—Slaying his children: I desire it too.

Iris.Courage, old men! beholding here—Night's birth—

Madness, and me the handmaid of the gods,

Iris: since to your town we come, no plague—

Wage war against the house of but one man

From Zeus and from Alkmené sprung, they say.

Now, till he made an end of bitter toils,

Fate kept him safe, nor did his father Zeus

Let us once hurt him, Heré nor myself.

But, since he has toiled through Eurustheus' task,

Heré desires to fix fresh blood on him—

Slaying his children: I desire it too.

Up then, collecting the unsoftened heart,Unwedded virgin of black Night! Drive, dragFrenzy upon the man here—whirls of brainBig with child-murder, while his feet leap gay!Let go the bloody cable its whole length!So that,—when o'er the Acherousian fordHe has sent floating, by self-homicide,His beautiful boy-garland,—he may knowFirst, Heré's anger, what it is to him,And then learn mine. The gods are vile indeedAnd mortal matters vast, if he 'scape free!

Up then, collecting the unsoftened heart,

Unwedded virgin of black Night! Drive, drag

Frenzy upon the man here—whirls of brain

Big with child-murder, while his feet leap gay!

Let go the bloody cable its whole length!

So that,—when o'er the Acherousian ford

He has sent floating, by self-homicide,

His beautiful boy-garland,—he may know

First, Heré's anger, what it is to him,

And then learn mine. The gods are vile indeed

And mortal matters vast, if he 'scape free!

Madness.Certes, from well-born sire and mother tooHad I my birth, whose blood is Night's and Heaven's;But here's my glory,—not to grudge the good!Nor love I raids against the friends of man.I wish, then, to persuade,—before I seeYou stumbling, you and Heré! trust my words!This man, the house of whom ye hound me to,Is not unfamed on earth nor gods among;Since, having quelled waste land and savage sea,He alone raised again the falling rightsOf gods—gone ruinous through impious men.Desire no mighty mischief, I advise!

Madness.Certes, from well-born sire and mother too

Had I my birth, whose blood is Night's and Heaven's;

But here's my glory,—not to grudge the good!

Nor love I raids against the friends of man.

I wish, then, to persuade,—before I see

You stumbling, you and Heré! trust my words!

This man, the house of whom ye hound me to,

Is not unfamed on earth nor gods among;

Since, having quelled waste land and savage sea,

He alone raised again the falling rights

Of gods—gone ruinous through impious men.

Desire no mighty mischief, I advise!

Iris.Give thou no thought to Heré's faulty schemes!

Mad.Changing her step from faulty to fault-free!

Iris.Not to be wise, did Zeus' wife send thee here!

Mad.Sun, thee I cite to witness—doing what I loathe to do!But since indeed to Heré and thyself I must subserve.And follow you quick, with a whiz, as the hounds a-hunt with the huntsman,—Go I will! and neither the sea, as it groans with its waves so furiously,Nor earthquake, no, nor the bolt of thunder gasping out heaven's labor-throe,Shall cover the ground as I, at a bound, rush into the bosom of Herakles!And home I scatter, and house I batter,Having first of all made the children fall,—And he who felled them is never to knowHe gave birth to each child that received the blow,Till the Madness, I am, have let him go!

Mad.Sun, thee I cite to witness—doing what I loathe to do!

But since indeed to Heré and thyself I must subserve.

And follow you quick, with a whiz, as the hounds a-hunt with the huntsman,

—Go I will! and neither the sea, as it groans with its waves so furiously,

Nor earthquake, no, nor the bolt of thunder gasping out heaven's labor-throe,

Shall cover the ground as I, at a bound, rush into the bosom of Herakles!

And home I scatter, and house I batter,

Having first of all made the children fall,—

And he who felled them is never to know

He gave birth to each child that received the blow,

Till the Madness, I am, have let him go!

Ha, behold, already he rocks his head—he is off from the starting-place!Not a word, as he rolls his frightful orbs, from their sockets wrenched in the ghastly race!And the breathings of him he tempers and times no more than a bull in act to toss,And hideously he bellows invoking the Keres, daughters of Tartaros.Ay, and I soon will dance thee madder, and pipe thee quite out of thy mind with fear!So, up with the famous foot, thou Iris, march to Olumpos, leave me here!Me and mine, who now combine, in the dreadful shape no mortal sees,And now are about to pass, from without, inside of the home of Herakles!

Ha, behold, already he rocks his head—he is off from the starting-place!

Not a word, as he rolls his frightful orbs, from their sockets wrenched in the ghastly race!

And the breathings of him he tempers and times no more than a bull in act to toss,

And hideously he bellows invoking the Keres, daughters of Tartaros.

Ay, and I soon will dance thee madder, and pipe thee quite out of thy mind with fear!

So, up with the famous foot, thou Iris, march to Olumpos, leave me here!

Me and mine, who now combine, in the dreadful shape no mortal sees,

And now are about to pass, from without, inside of the home of Herakles!

Cho.Otototoi,—groan! Away is mownThy flower, Zeus' offspring, City!Unhappy Hellas, who dost cast (the pity!)Who worked thee all the good,Away from thee,—destroyest in a moodOf madness him, to death whom pipings dance!There goes she, in her chariot—groans, her brood—And gives her team the goad, as though adriftFor doom, Night's Gorgon, Madness, she whose glanceTurns man to marble! with what hissings liftTheir hundred heads the snakes, her head's inheritance!Quick has the god changed fortune: through their sireQuick will the children, that he saved, expire!O miserable me! O Zeus! thy child—Childless himself—soon vengeance, hunger-wild,Craving for punishment, will lay how low—Loaded with many a woe!

Cho.Otototoi,—groan! Away is mown

Thy flower, Zeus' offspring, City!

Unhappy Hellas, who dost cast (the pity!)

Who worked thee all the good,

Away from thee,—destroyest in a mood

Of madness him, to death whom pipings dance!

There goes she, in her chariot—groans, her brood—

And gives her team the goad, as though adrift

For doom, Night's Gorgon, Madness, she whose glance

Turns man to marble! with what hissings lift

Their hundred heads the snakes, her head's inheritance!

Quick has the god changed fortune: through their sire

Quick will the children, that he saved, expire!

O miserable me! O Zeus! thy child—

Childless himself—soon vengeance, hunger-wild,

Craving for punishment, will lay how low—

Loaded with many a woe!

O palace-roofs! your courts about,A measure begins all unrejoicedBy the tympanies and the thyrsos hoistOf the Bromian revel-rout!O ye domes! and the measure proceedsFor blood, not such as the cluster bleedsOf the Dionusian pouring-out!

O palace-roofs! your courts about,

A measure begins all unrejoiced

By the tympanies and the thyrsos hoist

Of the Bromian revel-rout!

O ye domes! and the measure proceeds

For blood, not such as the cluster bleeds

Of the Dionusian pouring-out!

Break forth, fly, children! fatal this—Fatal the lay that is piped, I wis!Ay, for he hunts a children-chase—Never shall Madness lead her revelAnd leave no trace in the dwelling-place!Ai ai, because of the evil!Ai ai, the old man—how I groanFor the father, and not the father alone!She who was nurse of his children,—smallHer gain that they ever were born at all!

Break forth, fly, children! fatal this—

Fatal the lay that is piped, I wis!

Ay, for he hunts a children-chase—

Never shall Madness lead her revel

And leave no trace in the dwelling-place!

Ai ai, because of the evil!

Ai ai, the old man—how I groan

For the father, and not the father alone!

She who was nurse of his children,—small

Her gain that they ever were born at all!

See! See!A whirlwind shakes hither and thitherThe house—the roof falls in together!Ha, ha! what dost thou, son of Zeus?A trouble of Tartaros broke loose,Such as once Pallas on the Titan thundered,Thou sendest on thy domes, roof-shattered and wall-sundered!

See! See!

A whirlwind shakes hither and thither

The house—the roof falls in together!

Ha, ha! what dost thou, son of Zeus?

A trouble of Tartaros broke loose,

Such as once Pallas on the Titan thundered,

Thou sendest on thy domes, roof-shattered and wall-sundered!

Messenger.O bodies white with age!—

Cho.What cry, to me—What, dost thou call with?

Cho.What cry, to me—

What, dost thou call with?

Mes.There 's a curse indoors!

Cho.I shall not bring a prophet: you suffice!

Mes.Dead are the children!

Cho.Ai ai!

Mes.Groan! for, groansSuit well the subject! Dire the children's death,Dire too the parent's hands that dealt the fate.No one could tell worse woe than we have borne!

Mes.Groan! for, groans

Suit well the subject! Dire the children's death,

Dire too the parent's hands that dealt the fate.

No one could tell worse woe than we have borne!

Cho.How dost thou that same curse—curse, cause for groanThe father's on the children, make appear?Tell in what matter they were hurled from heavenAgainst the house—these evils; and recountThe children's hapless fate, O Messenger!

Cho.How dost thou that same curse—curse, cause for groan

The father's on the children, make appear?

Tell in what matter they were hurled from heaven

Against the house—these evils; and recount

The children's hapless fate, O Messenger!

Mes.The victims were before the hearth of ZeusA household-expiation: since the kingO' the country, Herakles had killed and castFrom out the dwelling; and a beauteous choirOf boys stood by his sire, too, and his wife.And now the basket had been carried roundThe altar in a circle, and we usedThe consecrated speech. Alkmené's son—Just as he was about, in his right hand,To bear the torch, that he might dip intoThe cleansing-water—came to a stand-still;And, as their father yet delayed, his boysHad their eyes on him. But he was himselfNo longer: lost in rollings of the eyes;Out-thrusting eyes—their very roots—like blood!Froth he dropped down his bushy-bearded cheek,And said—together with a madman's laugh—"Father! why sacrifice, before I slayEurustheus? why have twice the lustral fire,And double pains, when 't is permitted meTo end, with one good hand-sweep, matters here?Then,—when I hither bring Eurustheus' head,—Then for these just slain, wash hands once for all!Now,—cast drink-offerings forth, throw baskets down!Who gives me bow and arrows, who my club?I go to that Mukenai! One must matchCrowbars and mattocks, so that—those sunk stonesThe Kuklops squared with picks and plumb-line red.I, with my bent steel, may o'ertumble town!"Which said, he goes and—with no car to have—Affirms he has one! mounts the chariot-board,And strikes, as having really goad in hand!And two ways laughed the servants—laugh with awe;And one said, as each met the other's stare,"Playing us boys' tricks? or is master mad?"But up he climbs, and down along the roof,And, dropping into the men's place, maintainsHe 's come to Nisos city, when he 's comeOnly inside his own house! then reclinesOn floor, for couch, and, as arrived indeed,Makes himself supper; goes through some brief stay,Then says he 's traversing the forest-flatsOf Isthmos; thereupon lays body bareOf bucklings, and begins a contest with—No one! and is proclaimed the conqueror—He by himself—having called out to hear—Nobody! Then, if you will take his word,Blaring against Eurustheus horribly,He 's at Mukenai. But his father laidHold of the strong hand and addressed him thus:"O son, what ails thee? Of what sort is thisExtravagance? Has not some murder-craze,Bred of those corpses thou didst just dispatch,Danced thee drunk?" But he,—taking him to crouch,Eurustheus' sire, that apprehensive touchedHis hand, a suppliant,—pushes him aside,Gets ready quiver, and bends low againstHis children—thinking them Eurustheus' boysHe means to slay. They, horrified with fear,Rushed here and there,—this child, into the robesO' the wretched mother,—this, beneath the shadeO' the column,—and this other, like a bird,Cowered at the altar-foot. The mother shrieks,"Parent—what dost thou?—kill thy children?" SoShriek the old sire and crowd of servitors.But he, outwinding him, as round aboutThe column ran the boy,—a horrid whirlO' the lathe his foot described!—stands opposite,Strikes through the liver! and supine the boyBedews the stone shafts, breathing out his life.But "Victory" he shouted! boasted thus:"Well, this one nestling of Eurustheus—dead—Falls by me, pays back the paternal hate!"Then bends bow on another who was crouchedAt base of altar—overlooked, he thought—And now prevents him, falls at father's knee,Throwing up hand to beard and cheek above."O dearest!" cries he, "father, kill me not!Yours, I am—your boy: not Eurustheus' boyYou kill now!" But he, rolling the wild eyeOf Gorgon,—as the boy stood all too closeFor deadly bowshot,—mimicry of smithWho batters red-hot iron,—hand o'er headHeaving his club, on the boy's yellow hairHurls it and breaks the bone. This second caught,—He goes, would slay the third, one sacrificeHe and the couple; but, beforehand here,The miserable mother catches up,Carries him inside house and bars the gate.Then he, as he were at those Kuklops' work,Digs at, heaves doors up, wrenches doorposts out,Lays wife and child low with the selfsame shaft.And this done, at the old man's death he drives;But there came, as it seemed to us who saw,A statue—Pallas with the crested head,Swinging her spear—and threw a stone which smoteHerakles' breast and stayed his slaughter-rage,And sent him safe to sleep. He falls to ground—Striking against the column with his back—Column which, with the falling of the roof,Broken in two, lay by the altar-base.And we, foot-free now from our several flights,Along with the old man, we fastened bondsOf rope-noose to the column, so that he,Ceasing from sleep, might not go adding deedsTo deeds done. And he sleeps a sleep, poor wretch,No gift of any god! since he has slainChildren and wife. For me, I do not knowWhat mortal has more misery to bear.

Mes.The victims were before the hearth of Zeus

A household-expiation: since the king

O' the country, Herakles had killed and cast

From out the dwelling; and a beauteous choir

Of boys stood by his sire, too, and his wife.

And now the basket had been carried round

The altar in a circle, and we used

The consecrated speech. Alkmené's son—

Just as he was about, in his right hand,

To bear the torch, that he might dip into

The cleansing-water—came to a stand-still;

And, as their father yet delayed, his boys

Had their eyes on him. But he was himself

No longer: lost in rollings of the eyes;

Out-thrusting eyes—their very roots—like blood!

Froth he dropped down his bushy-bearded cheek,

And said—together with a madman's laugh—

"Father! why sacrifice, before I slay

Eurustheus? why have twice the lustral fire,

And double pains, when 't is permitted me

To end, with one good hand-sweep, matters here?

Then,—when I hither bring Eurustheus' head,—

Then for these just slain, wash hands once for all!

Now,—cast drink-offerings forth, throw baskets down!

Who gives me bow and arrows, who my club?

I go to that Mukenai! One must match

Crowbars and mattocks, so that—those sunk stones

The Kuklops squared with picks and plumb-line red.

I, with my bent steel, may o'ertumble town!"

Which said, he goes and—with no car to have—

Affirms he has one! mounts the chariot-board,

And strikes, as having really goad in hand!

And two ways laughed the servants—laugh with awe;

And one said, as each met the other's stare,

"Playing us boys' tricks? or is master mad?"

But up he climbs, and down along the roof,

And, dropping into the men's place, maintains

He 's come to Nisos city, when he 's come

Only inside his own house! then reclines

On floor, for couch, and, as arrived indeed,

Makes himself supper; goes through some brief stay,

Then says he 's traversing the forest-flats

Of Isthmos; thereupon lays body bare

Of bucklings, and begins a contest with

—No one! and is proclaimed the conqueror—

He by himself—having called out to hear

—Nobody! Then, if you will take his word,

Blaring against Eurustheus horribly,

He 's at Mukenai. But his father laid

Hold of the strong hand and addressed him thus:

"O son, what ails thee? Of what sort is this

Extravagance? Has not some murder-craze,

Bred of those corpses thou didst just dispatch,

Danced thee drunk?" But he,—taking him to crouch,

Eurustheus' sire, that apprehensive touched

His hand, a suppliant,—pushes him aside,

Gets ready quiver, and bends low against

His children—thinking them Eurustheus' boys

He means to slay. They, horrified with fear,

Rushed here and there,—this child, into the robes

O' the wretched mother,—this, beneath the shade

O' the column,—and this other, like a bird,

Cowered at the altar-foot. The mother shrieks,

"Parent—what dost thou?—kill thy children?" So

Shriek the old sire and crowd of servitors.

But he, outwinding him, as round about

The column ran the boy,—a horrid whirl

O' the lathe his foot described!—stands opposite,

Strikes through the liver! and supine the boy

Bedews the stone shafts, breathing out his life.

But "Victory" he shouted! boasted thus:

"Well, this one nestling of Eurustheus—dead—

Falls by me, pays back the paternal hate!"

Then bends bow on another who was crouched

At base of altar—overlooked, he thought—

And now prevents him, falls at father's knee,

Throwing up hand to beard and cheek above.

"O dearest!" cries he, "father, kill me not!

Yours, I am—your boy: not Eurustheus' boy

You kill now!" But he, rolling the wild eye

Of Gorgon,—as the boy stood all too close

For deadly bowshot,—mimicry of smith

Who batters red-hot iron,—hand o'er head

Heaving his club, on the boy's yellow hair

Hurls it and breaks the bone. This second caught,—

He goes, would slay the third, one sacrifice

He and the couple; but, beforehand here,

The miserable mother catches up,

Carries him inside house and bars the gate.

Then he, as he were at those Kuklops' work,

Digs at, heaves doors up, wrenches doorposts out,

Lays wife and child low with the selfsame shaft.

And this done, at the old man's death he drives;

But there came, as it seemed to us who saw,

A statue—Pallas with the crested head,

Swinging her spear—and threw a stone which smote

Herakles' breast and stayed his slaughter-rage,

And sent him safe to sleep. He falls to ground—

Striking against the column with his back—

Column which, with the falling of the roof,

Broken in two, lay by the altar-base.

And we, foot-free now from our several flights,

Along with the old man, we fastened bonds

Of rope-noose to the column, so that he,

Ceasing from sleep, might not go adding deeds

To deeds done. And he sleeps a sleep, poor wretch,

No gift of any god! since he has slain

Children and wife. For me, I do not know

What mortal has more misery to bear.

Cho.A murder there was which ArgolisHolds in remembrance, Hellas through,As, at that time, best and famousest:Of those, the daughters of Danaos slew.A murder indeed was that! but thisOutstrips it, straight to the goal has pressed.I am able to speak of a murder doneTo the hapless Zeus-born offspring, too—Proknè's son, who had but one—Or a sacrifice to the Muses, sayRather, who Itus sing alway,Her single child! But thou, the sireOf children three—O thou consuming fire!—In one outrageous fate hast made them all expire!And this outrageous fate—What groan, or wail, or deadmen's dirge,Or choric dance of Haides shall I urgeThe Muse to celebrate?

Cho.A murder there was which Argolis

Holds in remembrance, Hellas through,

As, at that time, best and famousest:

Of those, the daughters of Danaos slew.

A murder indeed was that! but this

Outstrips it, straight to the goal has pressed.

I am able to speak of a murder done

To the hapless Zeus-born offspring, too—

Proknè's son, who had but one—

Or a sacrifice to the Muses, say

Rather, who Itus sing alway,

Her single child! But thou, the sire

Of children three—O thou consuming fire!—

In one outrageous fate hast made them all expire!

And this outrageous fate—

What groan, or wail, or deadmen's dirge,

Or choric dance of Haides shall I urge

The Muse to celebrate?

Woe! woe! behold!The portalled palace lies unrolled,This way and that way, each prodigious fold!Alas for me! these children, see,Stretched, hapless group, before their father—heThe all-unhappy, who lies sleeping outThe murder of his sons, a dreadful sleep!And bonds, see, all about,—Rope-tangle, ties and tether,—theseTightenings around the body of HeraklesTo the stone columns of the house made fast!

Woe! woe! behold!

The portalled palace lies unrolled,

This way and that way, each prodigious fold!

Alas for me! these children, see,

Stretched, hapless group, before their father—he

The all-unhappy, who lies sleeping out

The murder of his sons, a dreadful sleep!

And bonds, see, all about,—

Rope-tangle, ties and tether,—these

Tightenings around the body of Herakles

To the stone columns of the house made fast!

But—like a bird that grievesFor callow nestlings some rude hand bereaves—See, here, a bitter journey overpast,The old man—all too late—is here at last!

But—like a bird that grieves

For callow nestlings some rude hand bereaves—

See, here, a bitter journey overpast,

The old man—all too late—is here at last!

Amph.Silently, silently, aged Kadmeians!Will ye not suffer my son, diffusedYonder, to slide from his sorrows in sleep?

Amph.Silently, silently, aged Kadmeians!

Will ye not suffer my son, diffused

Yonder, to slide from his sorrows in sleep?

Cho.And thee, old man, do I, groaning, weep,And the children too, and the head there—usedOf old to the wreaths and paians!

Cho.And thee, old man, do I, groaning, weep,

And the children too, and the head there—used

Of old to the wreaths and paians!

Amph.Farther away! Nor beat the breast,Nor wail aloud, nor rouse from restThe slumberer—asleep, so best!

Amph.Farther away! Nor beat the breast,

Nor wail aloud, nor rouse from rest

The slumberer—asleep, so best!

Cho.Ah me—what a slaughter!

Amph.Refrain—refrain!Ye will prove my perdition!

Amph.Refrain—refrain!

Ye will prove my perdition!

Cho.Unlike water,Bloodshed rises from earth again!

Cho.Unlike water,

Bloodshed rises from earth again!

Amph.Do I bid you bate your breath, in vain—Ye elders? Lament in a softer strain!Lest he rouse himself, burst every chain,And bury the city in ravage—brayFather and house to dust away!

Amph.Do I bid you bate your breath, in vain—

Ye elders? Lament in a softer strain!

Lest he rouse himself, burst every chain,

And bury the city in ravage—bray

Father and house to dust away!

Cho.I cannot forbear—I cannot forbear!

Amph.Hush! I will learn his breathings: there!I will lay my ears close.

Amph.Hush! I will learn his breathings: there!

I will lay my ears close.

Cho.What, he sleeps?

Amph.Ay,—sleeps! A horror of slumber keepsThe man who has piledOn wife and childDeath and death, as he shot them downWith clang o'the bow.

Amph.Ay,—sleeps! A horror of slumber keeps

The man who has piled

On wife and child

Death and death, as he shot them down

With clang o'the bow.

Cho.Wail—

Amph.Even so!

Cho.—The fate of the children—

Amph.Triple woe!

Cho.—Old man, the fate of thy son!

Amph.Hush, hush! Have done!He is turning about!He is breaking out!Away! I stealAnd my body conceal,Before he arouse,In the depths of the house!

Amph.Hush, hush! Have done!

He is turning about!

He is breaking out!

Away! I steal

And my body conceal,

Before he arouse,

In the depths of the house!

Cho.Courage! The NightMaintains her rightOn the lids of thy son there, sealed from sight!

Cho.Courage! The Night

Maintains her right

On the lids of thy son there, sealed from sight!

Amph.See, see! To leave the lightAnd, wretch that I am, bear one last ill,I do not avoid; but if he killMe, his own father, and deviseBeyond the present miseriesA misery more ghastly still—And to haunt him, over and aboveThose here who, as they used to love,Now hate him, what if he have with theseMy murder, the worst of Erinues?

Amph.See, see! To leave the light

And, wretch that I am, bear one last ill,

I do not avoid; but if he kill

Me, his own father, and devise

Beyond the present miseries

A misery more ghastly still—

And to haunt him, over and above

Those here who, as they used to love,

Now hate him, what if he have with these

My murder, the worst of Erinues?

Cho.Then was the time to die, for thee,When ready to wreak in the full degreeVengeance on thoseThy consort's foesWho murdered her brothers! glad, life's close,With the Taphioi down,And sacked their townClustered about with a wash of sea!

Cho.Then was the time to die, for thee,

When ready to wreak in the full degree

Vengeance on those

Thy consort's foes

Who murdered her brothers! glad, life's close,

With the Taphioi down,

And sacked their town

Clustered about with a wash of sea!

Amph.Tonight—to flight!Away from the house, troop off, old men!Save yourselves out of the maniac's sight!He is rousing himself right up: and then,Murder on murder heaping anew,He will revel in blood your city through!

Amph.Tonight—to flight!

Away from the house, troop off, old men!

Save yourselves out of the maniac's sight!

He is rousing himself right up: and then,

Murder on murder heaping anew,

He will revel in blood your city through!

Cho.O Zeus, why hast, with such unmeasured hate,Hated thy son, whelmed in this sea of woes?

Cho.O Zeus, why hast, with such unmeasured hate,

Hated thy son, whelmed in this sea of woes?

Her.Ha,—In breath indeed I am—see things I ought—Æther, and earth, and these the sunbeam-shafts!But then—some billow and strange whirl of senseI have fallen into! and breathings hot I breathe—Smoked upwards, not the steady work from lungs.See now! Why, bound—at moorings like a ship,—About my young breast and young arm, to thisStone piece of carved work broke in half, do ISit, have my rest in corpses' neighborhood?Strewn on the ground are wingèd darts, and bowWhich played, my brother-shieldman, held in hand,—Guarded my side, and got my guardianship!I cannot have gone back to Haides—twice.Begun Eurustheus' race I ended thence?But I nor see the Sisupheian stone,Nor Plouton, nor Demeter's sceptred maid!I am struck witless sure! Where can I be?Ho there! what friend of mine is near or far—Some one to cure me of bewilderment?For naught familiar do I recognize.

Her.Ha,—

In breath indeed I am—see things I ought—

Æther, and earth, and these the sunbeam-shafts!

But then—some billow and strange whirl of sense

I have fallen into! and breathings hot I breathe—

Smoked upwards, not the steady work from lungs.

See now! Why, bound—at moorings like a ship,—

About my young breast and young arm, to this

Stone piece of carved work broke in half, do I

Sit, have my rest in corpses' neighborhood?

Strewn on the ground are wingèd darts, and bow

Which played, my brother-shieldman, held in hand,—

Guarded my side, and got my guardianship!

I cannot have gone back to Haides—twice.

Begun Eurustheus' race I ended thence?

But I nor see the Sisupheian stone,

Nor Plouton, nor Demeter's sceptred maid!

I am struck witless sure! Where can I be?

Ho there! what friend of mine is near or far—

Some one to cure me of bewilderment?

For naught familiar do I recognize.

Amph.Old friends, shall I go close to these my woes?

Cho.Ay, and let me too,—nor desert your ills!

Her.Father, why weepest thou, and buriest upThine eyes, aloof so from thy much-loved son?

Her.Father, why weepest thou, and buriest up

Thine eyes, aloof so from thy much-loved son?

Amph.O child!—for, faring badly, mine thou art!

Her.Do I fare somehow ill, that tears should flow?

Amph.Ill,—would cause any god who bore to groan!

Her.That's boasting, truly! still, you state no hap.

Amph.For, thyself seest—if in thy wits again.

Her.Heyday! How riddlingly that hint returns!

Amph.Well, I am trying—art thou sane and sound!

Her.Say if thou lay'st aught strange to my life's charge!

Amph.If thou no more art Haides-drunk,—I tell!

Her.I bring to mind no drunkenness of soul.

Amph.Shall I unbind my son, old men, or what?

Her.And who was binder, tell!—notthat, my deed!

Amph.Mind that much of misfortune—pass the rest!

Her.Enough! from silence, I nor learn nor wish.

Amph.O Zeus, dost witness here throned Heré's work?

Her.But have I had to bear aught hostile thence?

Amph.Let be the goddess—bury thine own guilt!

Her.Undone! What is the sorrow thou wilt say?

Amph.Look! See the ruins of thy children here!

Her.Ah me! What sight do wretched I behold?

Amph.Unfair fight, son, this fight thou fastenedstOn thine own children!

Amph.Unfair fight, son, this fight thou fastenedst

On thine own children!

Her.What fight? Who slew these?

Amph.Thou and thy bow, and who of gods was cause.

Her.How say'st? What did I? Ill-announcing sire!

Amph.—Go mad! Thou askest a sad clearing up!

Back to Index Next