COMPARATIVE ANALYSES

Octavia:Oh, whither do ye hurry me? What fateHas that vile tyrant or his queen ordained?900Does she, subdued and softened by my woes,Grant me to live in exile? Or, if not,If she intends to crown my sufferingsWith death, why does her savage heart begrudgeThat I should die at home? But now, alas,905I can no longer hope for life; behold,My brother's bark, within whose treacherous holdHis mother once was borne; and now for me,Poor wretch, his slighted sister-wife, it waits.910No more has right a place upon the earth,Nor heavenly gods. Grim Fury reigns supreme.Oh, who can fitly weep my evil plight?What nightingale has tongue to sing my woes?915Would that the fates would grant her wings to me!Then would I speed away on pinions swift,And leave my grievous troubles far behind,Leave these unholy haunts of savage men.920There, all alone, within some forest wide,Among the swaying branches would I sit,And let my grieving spirit weep its fill.Chorus:The race of men is by the fates controlled,And none may hope to make his own secure;925And o'er the ever-shifting ways of lifeThe day which most we fear shall come to us.But comfort now thy heart with thought of thoseOf thine own house who suffered ill, and ask:930In what has fortune been more harsh to thee?Thee first I name, Agrippa's noble child,The famous mother of so many sons,Great Caesar's wife, whose name throughout the world935In flaming glory shone, whose teeming wombBrought forth so many hostages of peace:E'en thee did exile wait, and cruel chains,Blows, bitter anguish, and at last a death940Of lingering agony. And Livia, thou,Though fortunate in husband and in sons,Didst walk the way of sin—and punishment.And Julia, too, endured her mother's fate;For, though no evil deed was charged to her,945She fell a victim to the sword at last.What could not once thy mighty mother doWho ruled supreme the house of Claudius,By him beloved, and in her son secure?Yet she at last was subject to a slave,950And fell beneath a brutal soldier's sword.For what exalted heights of royaltyMight not our Nero's mother once have hoped?Mishandled first by vulgar sailors' hands,955Then slain and mangled by the bungling sword,She lay the victim of her cruel son.Octavia:Me, too, the tyrant to the world of shadesIs sending. Why delay? Then speed my death,960For fate hath made me subject to your power.I pray the heavenly gods—what wouldst thou, fool?Pray not to gods who show their scorn of thee.But, O ye gods of hell, ye furies dire,965Who work your vengeance on the crimes of men,And thou, my father's restless spirit, comeAnd bring this tyrant fitting punishment.[To her guards.]The death you threaten has no terrors nowFor me. Go, set your ship in readiness,970Unfurl your sails, and let your pilot seekThe barren shores of Pandataria.[ExitOctaviawith guards.]Chorus:Ye gentle breezes and ye zephyrs mild,Which once from savage Dian's altar bore975Atrides' daughter in a cloud concealed,This child of ours, Octavia too, we pray,Bear far away from these too cruel woes,And set her in the fane of Trivia.For Aulis is more merciful than Rome,The savage Taurian land more mild than this:980There hapless strangers to their gods they feed,But Rome delights to see her children bleed.FOOTNOTES:[58]Reading,quam temperet non ira, etc.COMPARATIVE ANALYSESCOMPARATIVE ANALYSES OF SENECA'S TRAGEDIES AND THE CORRESPONDING GREEK DRAMASThePhoenissae, if, indeed, these fragments are to be considered as belonging to one play, has no direct correspondent in Greek drama; although, in the general situations and in some details, it is similar to parts of three plays:The Seven Against Thebesof Aeschylus, theOedipus at Colonusof Sophocles, and thePhoenician Damselsof Euripides. TheThyestesis without a parallel in extant Greek drama; and theOctavia, of course, stands alone.The other seven tragedies attributed by tradition to Seneca, together with their Greek correspondents, are here presented in comparative analyses in order that the reader may be enabled easily to compare, at least so far as subject-matter and dramatic structure are concerned, the Roman tragedies and their Greek originals.Although the traditional division into acts is followed in the English version of the several plays, it seems wise in these comparisons to give the more minute division into prologue, episodes, and choral interludes.THEOEDIPUSOF SOPHOCLES, AND THEOEDIPUSOF SENECAPrologue.—Dialogue between Oedipus and the priest of Zeus, who discloses the present plague-smitten condition of the people, and prays the king for aid since he is so wise. The fatherly regard of Oedipus for his people, in that he has already sent a messenger to ask the aid of the oracle, is portrayed.The answer of the oracle: first reference to an unexpiated sin. Short question and answer between Oedipus and Creon, the messenger, bringing out the facts of Laïus' death.The irony of fate: Oedipus proposes, partly in his own interest, to seek out the murderer. As yet there is no foreshadowing of evil in the king'smind. At the end of the prologue Oedipus remains alone upon the stage.Prologue.—In the early morning Oedipus is seen lamenting the plague-smitten condition of his people. He narrates how he had fled from Corinth to avoid the fulfilment of a dreadful oracle, that he should kill his father and wed his mother. Even here he cannot feel safe, but still fears some dreadful fate that seems threatening. He describes with minute detail the terrors of the pestilence which has smitten man and beast and even the vegetable world. He prays for death that he may not survive his stricken people. Jocasta remonstrates with him for his despair and reminds him that it is a king's duty to bear reverses with cheerfulness.Parode, or chorus entry.—The chorus enlarges upon the distresses of the city, and appeals to the gods for aid.Parode, or chorus entry.—The chorus appeals to Bacchus, relating how the descendants of his old Theban comrades are perishing. It enlarges upon the distresses of the city, and deplores the violence of the plague. The sufferings of the people are described in minute detail.First episode.—The curse of Oedipus upon the unknown murderer is pronounced, and the charge is made by Tiresias (who long refuses to speak but is forced to do so by Oedipus), "Thou art the man." Oedipus' explanation of Tiresias' charge; it is a plot between the latter and Creon. The facts of Oedipus' birth are hinted at. Tiresias prophesies the after-life of the king, with the name but thinly veiled.First episode.—Creon, returned from the consultation of the oracle at Delphi, announces that the plague is caused by the unatoned murder of Laïus, former king of Thebes. Oedipus anxiously inquires who the murderer is, but is told that this is still a mystery. Creon describes the scene at Delphi in the giving of the oracle. Oedipus declares himself eager to hunt out the murderer and inquires why the matter has been left so long uninvestigated. He is told that the terrors of the Sphinx had driven all other thoughts out of the people's mind.The irony of fate: Oedipus pronounces a dreadful curse upon the murderer of Laïus and vows not to rest until he finds him. He inquires where the murder took place and how. At this moment the blind old Tiresias enters, led by his daughter, Manto. Tiresias tries by the arts of divination (which are described with the greatest elaboration) to ascertain the name of the murderer, but without avail; and says that recourse must be had to necromancy, or the raising of the dead.First choral interlude.—The chorus reflects upon the oracle and the certain discovery of the guilty one. Idealpicture of the flight of the murderer. While troubled by the charge of Tiresias, the chorus still refuses to give it credence. After all, the seer is only a man and liable to be mistaken. Oedipus has shown himself a wiser man by solving the riddle of the Sphinx.First choral interlude.—The chorus sings a dithyrambic strain in praise of the wonderful works of Bacchus. No reference is made to the tragedy which is in progress.Second episode.—Quarrel of Oedipus and Creon based upon the charges of the former. Oedipus' argument: The deed was done long ago, and Tiresias, though then also a seer, made no charge. Now, when forced by the recent oracle, the seer comes forward with Creon. This looks like a conspiracy. Creon pleads for a fair and complete investigation. Jocasta tries to reconcile the two, but in vain, and Creon is driven out. Jocasta relates the circumstances of Laïus' death, which tally in all details but one with the death of one slain by Oedipus. A terrible conclusion begins to dawn upon the king. He tells his queen the story of his life and the dreadful oracle, the fear of the fulfilment of which drove him from Corinth. At the end of this episode the death of Laïus at the hands of Oedipus is all but proved, but the relation between the two is not yet hinted at.Second episode.—Creon returns from the rites of necromancy in which he had accompanied Tiresias, and strives to avoid telling the result of the investigation to the king. Being at last forced to reveal all that he knows, he describes with great vividness of detail how Tiresias has summoned up the spirits of the dead, and among them Laïus. The latter declares that Oedipus himself is the murderer, having slain his father and married his mother. Oedipus, strong in the belief that Polybus and Merope of Corinth are his parents, denies the charge, and after a hot dispute orders Creon to be cast into prison, on suspicion of a conspiracy with Tiresias to deprive Oedipus of the scepter.Second choral interlude.—Prayer for a life in accordance with the will of heaven. Under the shadow of impending ill, the chorus seeks the aid of God, meditates upon the doom of the unrighteous, and considers the seeming fallibility of the oracle.Second choral interlude.—The chorus refuses to believe the charge against Oedipus, but lays the blame of all these ills upon the evil fate of Thebes which has pursued the Thebans from the first.Third episode.—A messenger from Corinth brings the news of Polybus' death, the supposed father of Oedipus. The irony of fate: the king is liftedup with joy that now the oracle cannot be fulfilled that he should kill his own father. Step by step the details of the king's infancy come out, which reveal the awful truth to Jocasta. To Oedipus the only result of the present revelation is that he is probably base-born. Jocasta tries to deter Oedipus from further investigation.Third episode.—Oedipus, remembering that he had slain a man on his way to Thebes, questions Jocasta more closely as to the circumstances of Laïus' death, and finding these circumstances to tally with his own experience, is convinced that he was indeed the slayer of Laïus.At this point a messenger from Corinth, an old man, announces to Oedipus the death of Polybus, the king of Corinth, and the supposed father of Oedipus. The latter is summoned to the empty throne of Corinth. A quick succession of questions and answers brings to light the fact that Oedipus is not the child of Polybus and Merope, but that the messenger himself had given him when an infant to the Corinthian pair. This announcement removes the chief support of Oedipus against the charges of Tiresias, and now he rushes blindly on to know the rest of the fatal truth. The shepherd is summoned who had given the baby to the old Corinthian. He strives to avoid answering, but, driven on by the threats of Oedipus, he at last states that he had received the child from the royal household of Thebes, and that it was in fact the son of Jocasta. At this last and awful disclosure, Oedipus goes off the stage in a fit of raving madness.Strophe and antistrophe.—A partial interlude, while they wait for the shepherd who is to furnish the last link in the chain of evidence. The chorus conjectures as to the wonderful birth of Oedipus; possibly his father is Pan, or Apollo, or Mercury, or Bacchus.The shepherd, arriving, also seeks to keep the dreadful truth from the king, but a second time the passion of Oedipus forces the truth from an unwilling witness. At last the whole story comes out, and Oedipus realizes that he has slain his father and wed his mother.Third choral interlude.—The utter nothingness of human life, judged by the fate of Oedipus, who above all men was successful, wise, and good. It is inscrutable; why should such a fate come to him? The chorus laments the doom of the king as its own.Third choral interlude.—The chorus reflects upon the dangerous position of the man who is unduly exalted, and illustrates this principle by the case of Icarus.Exode.—The catastrophe in its final manifestations. A messenger describes the lamentations and suicide of Jocasta, the despair of Oedipus, andthe wild mood in which he inflicts blindness upon himself. He comes upon the stage piteously wailing and groping his way. He prays for death or banishment at the hands of Creon, who is now king. He takes a tender farewell of his daughters and consigns them to Creon's care.The play ends with the solemn warning of the chorus "to reckon no man happy till ye witness the closing day; until he pass the border which severs life from death, unscathed by sorrow."Exode.—Although there is a short chorus interjected here (lines 980-97) on the inevitableness of fate, all the remainder of the play is really the exode, showing the catastrophe in its final manifestation. A messenger describes with horrible minuteness how Oedipus in his ravings has dug out his eyes. At this point Oedipus himself comes upon the stage, rejoicing in his blindness, since now he can never look upon his shame. And now Jocasta appears, having heard strange rumors. On learning the whole truth, she slays herself on the stage with Oedipus' sword. The play ends as the blind old king goes groping his way out into darkness and exile.THEMEDEAOF EURIPIDES, AND THEMEDEAOF SENECAPrologue.—The old nurse of Medea, alone upon the stage, laments that the Argo was ever framed and that Medea had ever fled from Colchis. Then had she never been here in Corinth an exile and now deserted even by her husband, Jason. In describing Medea's distracted condition, the nurse first voices the fear of that violence which forms the catastrophe of the play. Enter an old attendant with the two sons of Medea, who announces a new woe—that Creon, the king, has decreed the banishment of Medea and her children. The nurse repeats her warning note, and urges the attendant to keep the children out of the sight of their mother, who even now can be heard raving within, and vowing the destruction of her children and her husband. The attendant retires with the children.Prologue.—Medea, finding herself deserted by Jason, calls upon gods and furies to grant her vengeance. She prays for destruction to light upon her rival, and imprecates curses upon Jason. She thinks it monstrous that the sun can still hold on his way, and prays for power to subvert the whole course of nature. She finally realizes that she is impotent save as she has recourse to her old sorceries which she has long since laid aside, and resolves upon them as a means of revenge.Parode, or chorus entry.—The chorus of Corinthian women comes to thefront of the palace to inquire the cause of Medea's cries, which they have heard, and to profess their attachment to her. From time to time Medea's voice can be heard from within as she prays for death and imprecates curses upon Jason. The nurse at the suggestion of the chorus undertakes to induce her mistress to come forth, that converse with her friends may soothe her grief. The nurse goes within, leaving the chorus alone upon the stage.Parode, or chorus entry.—A chorus of Corinthians chants an epithalamium for the nuptials of Jason and Creüsa. First, in Asclepiadean strains, they invoke the gods to be present and bless the nuptials. The strain then changes to quick, joyful Glyconics in praise of the surpassing beauty of the married pair. Changing back to Asclepiads, the chorus continues in extravagant praise of Jason and his bride, congratulates him on his exchange from Medea to Creüsa, and finally, in six lines of hexameter, exults in the license of the hour.First episode.—Medea comes forth from the palace to explain to the chorus her position and unhappy condition. She deplores the lot of women in general, and especially in relation to marriage, and enlists the sympathy of the chorus in her attempt to secure some revenge for her wrongs. They confess the justice of her cause and promise to keep her secret.Creon announces to Medea that she must leave his realm at once, for much he fears that she will take her revenge upon him and upon his house. She pleads for grace, and bewails her reputation for magic power; she assures the king that he has nothing to fear from her, and affects compliance with all that has taken place. Creon, while still protesting that she cannot be trusted, yields in so far that he grants her a single day's delay.Medea tells the chorus that her recent compliance was only feigned, and openly announces her intention before the day is done of slaying Creon, his daughter, and Jason. She debates the various methods by which this may be accomplished, anddecides, for her own greater safety, upon the help of magic.First episode.—Hearing the epithalamium, Medea goes into a passion of rage. She recounts all that she has done for Jason, and exclaims against his ingratitude. Again, with shifting feelings she pleads Jason's cause to herself and strives to excuse him, blaming all upon Creon. Upon him she vows the direst vengeance. Meanwhile the nurse in vain urges prudence.Creon now enters, manifesting in his words a fear of Medea, and bent upon her immediate banishment. Medea pleads her innocence, and begs to know the reason for her exile. She reviews at length her former regal estate and contrasts with this her present forlorn condition. She claims the credit for the preservation of all the Argonautic heroes. Upon this ground she claims that Jason is hers. She begs of Creon some small corner in his kingdom for her dwelling, but the king remains obdurate. She then prays for a single day's delay in which to say farewell to her children, who are to remain, the wards of the king. This prayer Creon reluctantly grants.First choral interlude.—The course of nature is subverted. No longer let woman alone have the reputation for falsehood; man's insincerity equals hers. In poetry the fickleness of both should be sung, just as in history it is seen. Though Medea, for her love of Jason, left her native land and braved all the terrors of the deep, she is now left all forsaken and alone. Verily truth and honor have departed from the earth.First choral interlude.—Apropos of Medea's reference to the Argonautic heroes the chorus sings of the dangers which those first voyagers upon the sea endured; how the natural bounds which the gods set to separate the lands have now been removed—and all this for gold and this barbarian woman. (The chorus is nowhere friendly to Medea, as in Euripides.) The ode ends with a prophecy of the time when all the earth shall be revealed, and there shall be no "Ultima Thule."Second episode.—Jason reproaches Medea for her intemperate speech against the king, which has resulted in her banishment, and shows her that he is still concerned for her interests. She retorts with reproaches because of his ingratitude, and proceeds to recount all that she had done for him and given up in his behalf. Jason replies that it was not through her help but that of Venus that he had escaped all the perils of the past, and reminds her of the advantages which she herself had gained by leaving her barbarous land for Greece. He even holds that his marriage into the royal family of Corinth is in her interest and that of her children, since by this means their common fortunes will be mended. He offers her from his new resources assistance for her exile, which she indignantly refuses, and Jason retires from her bitter taunts.Second episode.—Medea is rushing out to seek vengeance, while the nurse tries in vain to restrain her. The nurse soliloquizes, describing the wild frenzy of her mistress, and expressing grave fears for the result. Medea, not noticing the nurse's presence, reflects upon the day that has been granted her by Creon, and vows that her terrible vengeance shall be commensurate with her sufferings. She rushes off the stage, while the nurse calls after her a last warning.Jason now enters, lamenting the difficult position in which he finds himself. He asserts that it is for his children's sake that he has done all, and hopes to be able to persuade Medea herself to take this view. Medea comes back, and at sight of Jason her fury is still further inflamed. She announces her intended flight. But whither shall she flee? For his sake she has closed all lands against herself. In bitter sarcasm she accepts all these sufferings as her just punishment. Then in a flash of fury sherecalls all her services to him and contrasts his ingratitude. She shifts suddenly to passionate entreaty, and prays him to pity her, to give back all that she gave up for him, if she must needs flee; she begs him to brave the wrath of Creon and flee with her, and promises him her protection as of old. In a long series of quick, short passages they shift from phase to phase of feeling, and finally Medea prays that in her flight she may have her children as her comrades. Jason's refusal shows how deeply he loves his sons, and here is suggested to Medea for the first time the method of her direst revenge. Jason now yields to her assumed penitence and grants her the custody of the children for this day alone. When Jason has withdrawn, she bids the nurse prepare the fatal robe which she proposes to send to her rival by the hands of her children.Second choral interlude.—The chorus prays to be delivered from the pangs of immoderate love and jealousy, from exile, and the ingratitude of friends.Second choral interlude.—The chorus opens on the text, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," and continues with a prayer for Jason's safety. It then recounts the subsequent history of the individual Argonauts, showing how almost all came to some untimely end. They might indeed be said to deserve this fate, for they volunteered to assist in that first impious voyage in quest of the golden fleece; but Jason should be spared the general doom, for the task had been imposed upon him by his usurping uncle, Pelias.Third, episode.—Aegeus, in Corinth by accident, recognizes Medea, and learns from her her present grievous condition and imminent exile. She begs that he receive her into his kingdom as a friend under his protection.This he promises with a mighty oath to do.Medea, left alone with the chorus, explains to it still more in detail her plans. She will send her sons with gifts to the new bride, which, by their magic power, will destroy her and all who touch her. She adds that she will also slay her two sons, the more to injure Jason. The chorus, while protesting against this last proposal, offers no resistance.Third episode.—The nurse in a long monologue recites Medea's magic wonders of the past, and all her present preparations. Then Medea's voice is heard, and presently she comes upon the stage chanting her incantations. She summons up the gods of Tartara to aid her task; recounts all the wonders which her charms can work; describes her store of magic fires and other potent objects. Then breaking into quicker measure, as if filled with a fuller frenzy, she continues her incantations accompanied by wild cries and gestures. She finally dispatches her sons to Jason's bride with the robe she has anointed with her magic drugs and charged with her curses. She hastens out in the opposite direction.Third choral interlude.—The chorus, dwelling upon Medea's proposed place of refuge, sings the praises of Athens, sacred to the Muses. It contrasts with this holy city the dreadful deed which Medea intends, and again vainly strives to dissuade her.Third choral interlude.—The chorus notes and describes Medea's wild bearing, and prays for her speedy departure from their city.Fourth episode.—Medea, sending for Jason, with feigned humility reproaches herself for her former intemperate words to him, and begs only that he use his influence for the reprieve of their children from exile. To assist him in this, she proposes to send the children themselves, bearing a gorgeous robe of golden tissue (which she has anointed with magic poison) as a wedding present to the bride. Upon this errand Jason retires attended by his little sons.Fourth choral interlude.—The chorus, with full knowledge of the fatal robe, pictures the delight of the bride at its reception, and laments her fearful doom.Fifth episode.—This episode is in four parts.The attendant returns with thechildren and announces to Medea that her gifts have prevailed for their reprieve. (The attendant retires.)Medea contrasts the assured career of her children with her own hapless condition; then remembers her resolve and with softening heart laments their dreadful fate. She hastily sends them within the palace. Left alone, she again struggles between her mother-love and her resolve not to leave her children subject to the scorn of her foes. (She here leaves the stage to wait for tidings from the royal house.)Then follows a monologue by the chorus leader discussing the advantages of childlessness. No reference is made to the passing events.Medea returns just in time to meet a messenger who breathlessly announces the death of Creon and his daughter. At the request of Medea he gives a detailed account of the reception of the magic robe and crown, the bride's delight, and her sudden and awful death, in which her father also was involved. He urges Medea to fly at once. She announces her intention to do so as soon as she has slain her children; and then rushes into the house.Fifth choral interlude.—This consists of a single strophe and antistrophe in which the chorus calls upon the gods to restrain Medea's mad act. Then are heard within the house the shrieks first of the two children, then of one, then silence, the chorus meanwhile wildly shouting to Medea to desist from her deadly work.The exode.—Jason appears in search of Medea that he may avenge on her the death of the royal pair; but mosthe fears for his children. The chorus informs him that they are already slain within the palace by their mother's hand. He prepares to force an entrance into the house.But now Medea appears in a chariot drawn by dragons. She defies Jason's power to harm her. Jason replies by reproaching her with all the murderous deeds of her life, which have culminated in this crowning deed of blood. She in turn reproaches him and his ingratitude as the cause of all. A storm of mutual imprecations follows, and Medea disappears with the bodies of her two sons, denying to Jason even the comfort of weeping over their remains.The exode.—A messenger comes running in from the direction of the palace, and announces that the king and his daughter are dead. The eager questions of the chorus bring out the strange circumstances attending this catastrophe. Medea enters in time to hear that her magic has been successful, and ignoring the nurse's entreaties to flee at once, she becomes absorbed in her own reflections. And now in her words may be seen the inward struggle between maternal love and jealous hate as she nerves herself for the final act of vengeance. The purpose to kill her children grows upon her, resist it as she may, until in an ecstasy of madness, urged on by a vision of her murdered brother, she slays her first son; and then, bearing the corpse of one and leading the other by the hand, she mounts to the turret of her house. Here with a refinement of cruelty she slays the second son in Jason's sight, disregarding his abject prayers for the boy's life. Now a chariot drawn by dragons appears in the air. This Medea mounts and is borne away, while Jason shouts his impotent curses after her.THEHERCULES FURENSOF EURIPIDES, AND THEHERCULES FURENSOF SENECAPrologue.—The old Amphitryon, before the altar of Jupiter, at the entrance of the house of Hercules in Thebes, relates how Hercules has gone to the lower world to bring thence to the realms of day the triple-headed Cerberus. Meanwhile, Lycus, taking advantage of the hero's absence, has slain king Creon and usurped his throne. The father, wife, and children of Hercules he has reduced to poverty, and holds them in durance here inThebes, threatening to slay the sons,Lest, when the boys attain maturer age,They should avenge their grandsire, Creon's, death.Amphitryon condoles with Megara, and counsels with her how they may escape the dangers of their present lot.Prologue.—Juno complains that she is fairly driven out of heaven by her numerous rivals, mortal women who have been deified and set in the sky, either they or their offspring, by Jupiter. Especially is her wrath hot against Hercules, against whom she has waged fruitless war from his infancy until now. But he thrives on hardship, and scorns her opposition. She passes in review the hard tasks which she has set him, and all of which he has triumphantly performed. Already is he claiming a place in heaven. He can be conquered only by his own hand. Yes, this shall be turned against him, for a fury shall be summoned up from hell who shall fill his heart with madness; and in this madness shall he do deeds which shall make him long for death.Parode, or chorus entry.—The chorus of Theban elders, feeble, tottering old men, enters and bemoans the wretched fate that has befallen their city and the household of their prince.Parode, or chorus entry.—A vivid picture of the dawning day, when the stars and waning moon fade out before the rising sun; when Toil wakes up and resumes its daily cares; when through the fields the animals and birds are all astir with glad, new life.But in the cities men awaken to repeat the sordid round of toil, the greedy quest for gold and power. But, whether happily or unhappily, all are speeding down to the world of shades. Even before his time has Hercules gone down to Pluto's realm, and has not yet returned.First episode.—Now enters Lycus, the usurper. He insolently taunts his victims on their helplessness, tells them that Hercules will never return, belittles and scorns the hero's mighty deeds, and announces his intention of killing the sons.Amphitryon answers the slanders of Lycus against Hercules, and protests against the proposed barbarous treatment of the children, who are innocent of any harm. He reproaches Thebes and all the land of Greece, because they have so ill repaid the services of their deliverer in not coming to the rescue of his wife and children. Lycus gives orders to burn the hated race of Hercules, even wherethey kneel for refuge at the altar-side; and threatens the elders who would thwart his will, bidding them remember that they are but as slaves in his sight. Yet the old men valiantly defy him, and warn him that they will withstand his attacks upon the children.But Megara shows them how foolish it is to contend against the king's unbounded power. Let them rather entreat his mercy. Could not exile be substituted for death? But no, for this is worse than death. Rather, let them all die together. Perhaps Lycus will allow her to go into the palace and deck her children in funeral garments? This prayer is granted, though Lycus warns them that they are to die at once. Left alone, Amphitryon chides Jupiter because he does not care for the children of his son:Thou know'st not howTo save thy friends. Thou surely art a god,Either devoid of wisdom, or unjust.First episode.—Megara enters and bewails the fresh woes that are ever ready to meet her husband's home-coming. She recounts the incidents of his long and difficult career, his heroic suffering at Juno's bidding.And now base Lycus has taken advantage of her husband's absence in the lower world to kill her father, Creon, king of Thebes, and all his sons, and to usurp the throne—And Lycus rules the Thebes of Hercules!She prays her husband soon to come and right these wrongs, though in her heart she fears that he will never come again.Old Amphitryon tries to reassure her by recalling the superhuman valor and strength of Hercules, but without success.Now Lycus appears, boasting of the power which he has gained, not by long descent from a noble line, but by his own valor. But his house cannot stand by valor alone. He must strengthen his power by union with some princely house—he will marry Megara! Should she refuse, he will give to utter ruin all the house of Hercules.Meeting her at the moment, he attempts with specious arguments to persuade her to his plan. But Megara repulses his monstrous proposition with indignant scorn. Lycus attempts to defend his slaughter of her father and brother as done through the exigency of war, and pleads with her to put away her wrath; but all in vain, and in the end he bids his attendants heap high a funeral pyre on which to burn the woman and all her brood.When Lycus has retired, Amphitryon in his extremity prays to heaven for aid; but suddenly checks himself with incredulous joy, for he hears approaching the well-known step of Hercules!First choral interlude.—The chorus sings in praise of the mighty works of Hercules, describing these in picturesque detail, from the destruction of the Nemean lion to his last adventure which has taken him to the world of shades, whence, alas, he will never more return. And meanwhile, lacking his protection, his friends and family are plunged in hopeless misery.First choral interlude.—Verily fortune is unjust, for while Eurystheus sits at ease, the nobler Hercules must suffer unending hardships. His labors are briefly recapitulated. Now has he gone to hell to bring back Cerberus. Oh, that he may conquer death as all things else, and come back again, as did Orpheus by the charm of his lyre.Second episode.—Forth from the palace, all dressed in the garb of death, come Megara and her children. Sheis ready for the doom which has been pronounced upon them. She sadly recalls the fond hopes that she and her husband had cherished for these sons. But these bright prospects have vanished now, for death is waiting to claim them all, herself as well. She will fold them in a last motherly embrace, and pour out her grief:How, like the bee with variegated wings,Shall I collect the sorrows of you all,And blend the whole together in a floodOf tears exhaustless!But perhaps even yet her absent lord has power to intervene in her behalf, though he be but a ghost. She prays despairingly that he will come to aid. Amphitryon would try the favor of Jove once more in this extremity:I call on thee, O Jove, that, if thou meanTo be a friend to these deserted children,Thou interpose without delay and save them;For soon 'twill be no longer in thy power.But at this juncture, when no help seems possible from heaven or hell, to their amazed joy, Hercules himself appears, and in the flesh. He perceives the mourning garments of his family, and the grief-stricken faces of the chorus, and quickly learns the cause of all this woe. He at once plans vengeance upon the wretch who has wrought it all. He has, himself, forewarned by a "bird of evil omen perched aloft," entered Thebes in secret; and now he will hide within his own palace and wait until Lycus comes to fetch the victims whom he has doomed to death. But first he briefly replies to Amphitryon's questions as to the success of his errand to the lower world.Second episode.—Hercules enters, fresh from the lower world, rejoicing that he again beholds the light of day, and exulting in the accomplishment of his latest and most difficult task; when suddenly he notices soldiers on guard, and his wife and children dressed in mourning garments. He asks what these things mean. Amphitryon answers briefly that Lycus has killed Creon and his sons, usurped the throne, and now has doomed Megara and her children to death.Hercules leaves his home at once to find, and take vengeance on, his enemy, though Theseus, whom he has rescued from the world of shades, begs for the privilege himself of slaying Lycus. Left with Amphitryon, in reply to the latter's questions, Theseus gives in great detail an account of the lower world, its way of approach, its topography, and the various creatures who dwell within its bounds. After describing in particular the operations of justice and the punishment of the condemned, he tells how Hercules overcame Cerberus and brought him to the upper world.Second choral interlude.—The oldmen sing in envy of youth and complaint of old age:But now a burden on my headHeavier than Aetna's rock, old age, I bear.They hold that had the gods been wiser they would have given renewed youth as a reward to the virtuous, leaving the degenerate to fall asleep and wake no more. And yet, though oppressed by age, they still may "breathe the strain Mnemosyne inspires," and sing unceasingly the deeds of Hercules:Alcides, the resistless son of Jove;Those trophies which to noble birth belongBy him are all surpassed; his forceful hand,Restoring peace, hath cleansed this monster-teeming land.Second choral interlude.—The chorus, with Theseus' words in mind, dwell in fancy still upon the lower world. They follow Hercules along "that dark way, which to the distant manes leads," and picture the thronging shades, the "repulsive glooms," and the "weary inactivity of that still, empty universe." They pray that it may be long ere they must go to that dread world, to which all the wandering tribes of earth must surely come. But away with gloomy thoughts! Now is the time for joy, for Hercules is come again. Let animals and men make holiday, and fitly celebrate their prince's world-wide victories, and their own deliverance from their recent woes.Third episode.—Lycus enters and encounters Amphitryon without the palace. Him he bids to go within and bring out the victims to their death. To this Amphitryon objects on the ground that it would make him an accomplice in their murder. Whereupon Lycus enters the palace to do his own errand. The old man, looking after him, exclaims:Depart; for to that place the fates ordainYou now are on the road;while the chorus rejoices that now the oppressor is so soon to meet his just punishment. Now the despairing cries of Lycus are heard within and then—silence.

Octavia:Oh, whither do ye hurry me? What fate

Has that vile tyrant or his queen ordained?900

Does she, subdued and softened by my woes,

Grant me to live in exile? Or, if not,

If she intends to crown my sufferings

With death, why does her savage heart begrudge

That I should die at home? But now, alas,905

I can no longer hope for life; behold,

My brother's bark, within whose treacherous hold

His mother once was borne; and now for me,

Poor wretch, his slighted sister-wife, it waits.910

No more has right a place upon the earth,

Nor heavenly gods. Grim Fury reigns supreme.

Oh, who can fitly weep my evil plight?

What nightingale has tongue to sing my woes?915

Would that the fates would grant her wings to me!

Then would I speed away on pinions swift,

And leave my grievous troubles far behind,

Leave these unholy haunts of savage men.920

There, all alone, within some forest wide,

Among the swaying branches would I sit,

And let my grieving spirit weep its fill.

Chorus:The race of men is by the fates controlled,And none may hope to make his own secure;925And o'er the ever-shifting ways of lifeThe day which most we fear shall come to us.But comfort now thy heart with thought of thoseOf thine own house who suffered ill, and ask:930In what has fortune been more harsh to thee?Thee first I name, Agrippa's noble child,The famous mother of so many sons,Great Caesar's wife, whose name throughout the world935In flaming glory shone, whose teeming wombBrought forth so many hostages of peace:E'en thee did exile wait, and cruel chains,Blows, bitter anguish, and at last a death940Of lingering agony. And Livia, thou,Though fortunate in husband and in sons,Didst walk the way of sin—and punishment.And Julia, too, endured her mother's fate;For, though no evil deed was charged to her,945She fell a victim to the sword at last.What could not once thy mighty mother doWho ruled supreme the house of Claudius,By him beloved, and in her son secure?Yet she at last was subject to a slave,950And fell beneath a brutal soldier's sword.For what exalted heights of royaltyMight not our Nero's mother once have hoped?Mishandled first by vulgar sailors' hands,955Then slain and mangled by the bungling sword,She lay the victim of her cruel son.

Chorus:The race of men is by the fates controlled,

And none may hope to make his own secure;925

And o'er the ever-shifting ways of life

The day which most we fear shall come to us.

But comfort now thy heart with thought of those

Of thine own house who suffered ill, and ask:930

In what has fortune been more harsh to thee?

Thee first I name, Agrippa's noble child,

The famous mother of so many sons,

Great Caesar's wife, whose name throughout the world935

In flaming glory shone, whose teeming womb

Brought forth so many hostages of peace:

E'en thee did exile wait, and cruel chains,

Blows, bitter anguish, and at last a death940

Of lingering agony. And Livia, thou,

Though fortunate in husband and in sons,

Didst walk the way of sin—and punishment.

And Julia, too, endured her mother's fate;

For, though no evil deed was charged to her,945

She fell a victim to the sword at last.

What could not once thy mighty mother do

Who ruled supreme the house of Claudius,

By him beloved, and in her son secure?

Yet she at last was subject to a slave,950

And fell beneath a brutal soldier's sword.

For what exalted heights of royalty

Might not our Nero's mother once have hoped?

Mishandled first by vulgar sailors' hands,955

Then slain and mangled by the bungling sword,

She lay the victim of her cruel son.

Octavia:Me, too, the tyrant to the world of shadesIs sending. Why delay? Then speed my death,960For fate hath made me subject to your power.I pray the heavenly gods—what wouldst thou, fool?Pray not to gods who show their scorn of thee.But, O ye gods of hell, ye furies dire,965Who work your vengeance on the crimes of men,And thou, my father's restless spirit, comeAnd bring this tyrant fitting punishment.[To her guards.]The death you threaten has no terrors nowFor me. Go, set your ship in readiness,970Unfurl your sails, and let your pilot seekThe barren shores of Pandataria.

Octavia:Me, too, the tyrant to the world of shades

Is sending. Why delay? Then speed my death,960

For fate hath made me subject to your power.

I pray the heavenly gods—what wouldst thou, fool?

Pray not to gods who show their scorn of thee.

But, O ye gods of hell, ye furies dire,965

Who work your vengeance on the crimes of men,

And thou, my father's restless spirit, come

And bring this tyrant fitting punishment.

[To her guards.]

The death you threaten has no terrors now

For me. Go, set your ship in readiness,970

Unfurl your sails, and let your pilot seek

The barren shores of Pandataria.

[ExitOctaviawith guards.]

Chorus:Ye gentle breezes and ye zephyrs mild,Which once from savage Dian's altar bore975Atrides' daughter in a cloud concealed,This child of ours, Octavia too, we pray,Bear far away from these too cruel woes,And set her in the fane of Trivia.For Aulis is more merciful than Rome,The savage Taurian land more mild than this:980There hapless strangers to their gods they feed,But Rome delights to see her children bleed.

Chorus:Ye gentle breezes and ye zephyrs mild,

Which once from savage Dian's altar bore975

Atrides' daughter in a cloud concealed,

This child of ours, Octavia too, we pray,

Bear far away from these too cruel woes,

And set her in the fane of Trivia.

For Aulis is more merciful than Rome,

The savage Taurian land more mild than this:980

There hapless strangers to their gods they feed,

But Rome delights to see her children bleed.

FOOTNOTES:[58]Reading,quam temperet non ira, etc.

[58]Reading,quam temperet non ira, etc.

COMPARATIVE ANALYSES OF SENECA'S TRAGEDIES AND THE CORRESPONDING GREEK DRAMAS

ThePhoenissae, if, indeed, these fragments are to be considered as belonging to one play, has no direct correspondent in Greek drama; although, in the general situations and in some details, it is similar to parts of three plays:The Seven Against Thebesof Aeschylus, theOedipus at Colonusof Sophocles, and thePhoenician Damselsof Euripides. TheThyestesis without a parallel in extant Greek drama; and theOctavia, of course, stands alone.

The other seven tragedies attributed by tradition to Seneca, together with their Greek correspondents, are here presented in comparative analyses in order that the reader may be enabled easily to compare, at least so far as subject-matter and dramatic structure are concerned, the Roman tragedies and their Greek originals.

Although the traditional division into acts is followed in the English version of the several plays, it seems wise in these comparisons to give the more minute division into prologue, episodes, and choral interludes.

Prologue.—Dialogue between Oedipus and the priest of Zeus, who discloses the present plague-smitten condition of the people, and prays the king for aid since he is so wise. The fatherly regard of Oedipus for his people, in that he has already sent a messenger to ask the aid of the oracle, is portrayed.The answer of the oracle: first reference to an unexpiated sin. Short question and answer between Oedipus and Creon, the messenger, bringing out the facts of Laïus' death.The irony of fate: Oedipus proposes, partly in his own interest, to seek out the murderer. As yet there is no foreshadowing of evil in the king'smind. At the end of the prologue Oedipus remains alone upon the stage.

The answer of the oracle: first reference to an unexpiated sin. Short question and answer between Oedipus and Creon, the messenger, bringing out the facts of Laïus' death.

The irony of fate: Oedipus proposes, partly in his own interest, to seek out the murderer. As yet there is no foreshadowing of evil in the king'smind. At the end of the prologue Oedipus remains alone upon the stage.

Prologue.—In the early morning Oedipus is seen lamenting the plague-smitten condition of his people. He narrates how he had fled from Corinth to avoid the fulfilment of a dreadful oracle, that he should kill his father and wed his mother. Even here he cannot feel safe, but still fears some dreadful fate that seems threatening. He describes with minute detail the terrors of the pestilence which has smitten man and beast and even the vegetable world. He prays for death that he may not survive his stricken people. Jocasta remonstrates with him for his despair and reminds him that it is a king's duty to bear reverses with cheerfulness.

Parode, or chorus entry.—The chorus enlarges upon the distresses of the city, and appeals to the gods for aid.

Parode, or chorus entry.—The chorus appeals to Bacchus, relating how the descendants of his old Theban comrades are perishing. It enlarges upon the distresses of the city, and deplores the violence of the plague. The sufferings of the people are described in minute detail.

First episode.—The curse of Oedipus upon the unknown murderer is pronounced, and the charge is made by Tiresias (who long refuses to speak but is forced to do so by Oedipus), "Thou art the man." Oedipus' explanation of Tiresias' charge; it is a plot between the latter and Creon. The facts of Oedipus' birth are hinted at. Tiresias prophesies the after-life of the king, with the name but thinly veiled.

First episode.—Creon, returned from the consultation of the oracle at Delphi, announces that the plague is caused by the unatoned murder of Laïus, former king of Thebes. Oedipus anxiously inquires who the murderer is, but is told that this is still a mystery. Creon describes the scene at Delphi in the giving of the oracle. Oedipus declares himself eager to hunt out the murderer and inquires why the matter has been left so long uninvestigated. He is told that the terrors of the Sphinx had driven all other thoughts out of the people's mind.The irony of fate: Oedipus pronounces a dreadful curse upon the murderer of Laïus and vows not to rest until he finds him. He inquires where the murder took place and how. At this moment the blind old Tiresias enters, led by his daughter, Manto. Tiresias tries by the arts of divination (which are described with the greatest elaboration) to ascertain the name of the murderer, but without avail; and says that recourse must be had to necromancy, or the raising of the dead.

The irony of fate: Oedipus pronounces a dreadful curse upon the murderer of Laïus and vows not to rest until he finds him. He inquires where the murder took place and how. At this moment the blind old Tiresias enters, led by his daughter, Manto. Tiresias tries by the arts of divination (which are described with the greatest elaboration) to ascertain the name of the murderer, but without avail; and says that recourse must be had to necromancy, or the raising of the dead.

First choral interlude.—The chorus reflects upon the oracle and the certain discovery of the guilty one. Idealpicture of the flight of the murderer. While troubled by the charge of Tiresias, the chorus still refuses to give it credence. After all, the seer is only a man and liable to be mistaken. Oedipus has shown himself a wiser man by solving the riddle of the Sphinx.

First choral interlude.—The chorus sings a dithyrambic strain in praise of the wonderful works of Bacchus. No reference is made to the tragedy which is in progress.

Second episode.—Quarrel of Oedipus and Creon based upon the charges of the former. Oedipus' argument: The deed was done long ago, and Tiresias, though then also a seer, made no charge. Now, when forced by the recent oracle, the seer comes forward with Creon. This looks like a conspiracy. Creon pleads for a fair and complete investigation. Jocasta tries to reconcile the two, but in vain, and Creon is driven out. Jocasta relates the circumstances of Laïus' death, which tally in all details but one with the death of one slain by Oedipus. A terrible conclusion begins to dawn upon the king. He tells his queen the story of his life and the dreadful oracle, the fear of the fulfilment of which drove him from Corinth. At the end of this episode the death of Laïus at the hands of Oedipus is all but proved, but the relation between the two is not yet hinted at.

Second episode.—Creon returns from the rites of necromancy in which he had accompanied Tiresias, and strives to avoid telling the result of the investigation to the king. Being at last forced to reveal all that he knows, he describes with great vividness of detail how Tiresias has summoned up the spirits of the dead, and among them Laïus. The latter declares that Oedipus himself is the murderer, having slain his father and married his mother. Oedipus, strong in the belief that Polybus and Merope of Corinth are his parents, denies the charge, and after a hot dispute orders Creon to be cast into prison, on suspicion of a conspiracy with Tiresias to deprive Oedipus of the scepter.

Second choral interlude.—Prayer for a life in accordance with the will of heaven. Under the shadow of impending ill, the chorus seeks the aid of God, meditates upon the doom of the unrighteous, and considers the seeming fallibility of the oracle.

Second choral interlude.—The chorus refuses to believe the charge against Oedipus, but lays the blame of all these ills upon the evil fate of Thebes which has pursued the Thebans from the first.

Third episode.—A messenger from Corinth brings the news of Polybus' death, the supposed father of Oedipus. The irony of fate: the king is liftedup with joy that now the oracle cannot be fulfilled that he should kill his own father. Step by step the details of the king's infancy come out, which reveal the awful truth to Jocasta. To Oedipus the only result of the present revelation is that he is probably base-born. Jocasta tries to deter Oedipus from further investigation.

Third episode.—Oedipus, remembering that he had slain a man on his way to Thebes, questions Jocasta more closely as to the circumstances of Laïus' death, and finding these circumstances to tally with his own experience, is convinced that he was indeed the slayer of Laïus.At this point a messenger from Corinth, an old man, announces to Oedipus the death of Polybus, the king of Corinth, and the supposed father of Oedipus. The latter is summoned to the empty throne of Corinth. A quick succession of questions and answers brings to light the fact that Oedipus is not the child of Polybus and Merope, but that the messenger himself had given him when an infant to the Corinthian pair. This announcement removes the chief support of Oedipus against the charges of Tiresias, and now he rushes blindly on to know the rest of the fatal truth. The shepherd is summoned who had given the baby to the old Corinthian. He strives to avoid answering, but, driven on by the threats of Oedipus, he at last states that he had received the child from the royal household of Thebes, and that it was in fact the son of Jocasta. At this last and awful disclosure, Oedipus goes off the stage in a fit of raving madness.

At this point a messenger from Corinth, an old man, announces to Oedipus the death of Polybus, the king of Corinth, and the supposed father of Oedipus. The latter is summoned to the empty throne of Corinth. A quick succession of questions and answers brings to light the fact that Oedipus is not the child of Polybus and Merope, but that the messenger himself had given him when an infant to the Corinthian pair. This announcement removes the chief support of Oedipus against the charges of Tiresias, and now he rushes blindly on to know the rest of the fatal truth. The shepherd is summoned who had given the baby to the old Corinthian. He strives to avoid answering, but, driven on by the threats of Oedipus, he at last states that he had received the child from the royal household of Thebes, and that it was in fact the son of Jocasta. At this last and awful disclosure, Oedipus goes off the stage in a fit of raving madness.

Strophe and antistrophe.—A partial interlude, while they wait for the shepherd who is to furnish the last link in the chain of evidence. The chorus conjectures as to the wonderful birth of Oedipus; possibly his father is Pan, or Apollo, or Mercury, or Bacchus.The shepherd, arriving, also seeks to keep the dreadful truth from the king, but a second time the passion of Oedipus forces the truth from an unwilling witness. At last the whole story comes out, and Oedipus realizes that he has slain his father and wed his mother.

The shepherd, arriving, also seeks to keep the dreadful truth from the king, but a second time the passion of Oedipus forces the truth from an unwilling witness. At last the whole story comes out, and Oedipus realizes that he has slain his father and wed his mother.

Third choral interlude.—The utter nothingness of human life, judged by the fate of Oedipus, who above all men was successful, wise, and good. It is inscrutable; why should such a fate come to him? The chorus laments the doom of the king as its own.

Third choral interlude.—The chorus reflects upon the dangerous position of the man who is unduly exalted, and illustrates this principle by the case of Icarus.

Exode.—The catastrophe in its final manifestations. A messenger describes the lamentations and suicide of Jocasta, the despair of Oedipus, andthe wild mood in which he inflicts blindness upon himself. He comes upon the stage piteously wailing and groping his way. He prays for death or banishment at the hands of Creon, who is now king. He takes a tender farewell of his daughters and consigns them to Creon's care.The play ends with the solemn warning of the chorus "to reckon no man happy till ye witness the closing day; until he pass the border which severs life from death, unscathed by sorrow."

The play ends with the solemn warning of the chorus "to reckon no man happy till ye witness the closing day; until he pass the border which severs life from death, unscathed by sorrow."

Exode.—Although there is a short chorus interjected here (lines 980-97) on the inevitableness of fate, all the remainder of the play is really the exode, showing the catastrophe in its final manifestation. A messenger describes with horrible minuteness how Oedipus in his ravings has dug out his eyes. At this point Oedipus himself comes upon the stage, rejoicing in his blindness, since now he can never look upon his shame. And now Jocasta appears, having heard strange rumors. On learning the whole truth, she slays herself on the stage with Oedipus' sword. The play ends as the blind old king goes groping his way out into darkness and exile.

Prologue.—The old nurse of Medea, alone upon the stage, laments that the Argo was ever framed and that Medea had ever fled from Colchis. Then had she never been here in Corinth an exile and now deserted even by her husband, Jason. In describing Medea's distracted condition, the nurse first voices the fear of that violence which forms the catastrophe of the play. Enter an old attendant with the two sons of Medea, who announces a new woe—that Creon, the king, has decreed the banishment of Medea and her children. The nurse repeats her warning note, and urges the attendant to keep the children out of the sight of their mother, who even now can be heard raving within, and vowing the destruction of her children and her husband. The attendant retires with the children.

Prologue.—Medea, finding herself deserted by Jason, calls upon gods and furies to grant her vengeance. She prays for destruction to light upon her rival, and imprecates curses upon Jason. She thinks it monstrous that the sun can still hold on his way, and prays for power to subvert the whole course of nature. She finally realizes that she is impotent save as she has recourse to her old sorceries which she has long since laid aside, and resolves upon them as a means of revenge.

Parode, or chorus entry.—The chorus of Corinthian women comes to thefront of the palace to inquire the cause of Medea's cries, which they have heard, and to profess their attachment to her. From time to time Medea's voice can be heard from within as she prays for death and imprecates curses upon Jason. The nurse at the suggestion of the chorus undertakes to induce her mistress to come forth, that converse with her friends may soothe her grief. The nurse goes within, leaving the chorus alone upon the stage.

Parode, or chorus entry.—A chorus of Corinthians chants an epithalamium for the nuptials of Jason and Creüsa. First, in Asclepiadean strains, they invoke the gods to be present and bless the nuptials. The strain then changes to quick, joyful Glyconics in praise of the surpassing beauty of the married pair. Changing back to Asclepiads, the chorus continues in extravagant praise of Jason and his bride, congratulates him on his exchange from Medea to Creüsa, and finally, in six lines of hexameter, exults in the license of the hour.

First episode.—Medea comes forth from the palace to explain to the chorus her position and unhappy condition. She deplores the lot of women in general, and especially in relation to marriage, and enlists the sympathy of the chorus in her attempt to secure some revenge for her wrongs. They confess the justice of her cause and promise to keep her secret.Creon announces to Medea that she must leave his realm at once, for much he fears that she will take her revenge upon him and upon his house. She pleads for grace, and bewails her reputation for magic power; she assures the king that he has nothing to fear from her, and affects compliance with all that has taken place. Creon, while still protesting that she cannot be trusted, yields in so far that he grants her a single day's delay.Medea tells the chorus that her recent compliance was only feigned, and openly announces her intention before the day is done of slaying Creon, his daughter, and Jason. She debates the various methods by which this may be accomplished, anddecides, for her own greater safety, upon the help of magic.

Creon announces to Medea that she must leave his realm at once, for much he fears that she will take her revenge upon him and upon his house. She pleads for grace, and bewails her reputation for magic power; she assures the king that he has nothing to fear from her, and affects compliance with all that has taken place. Creon, while still protesting that she cannot be trusted, yields in so far that he grants her a single day's delay.

Medea tells the chorus that her recent compliance was only feigned, and openly announces her intention before the day is done of slaying Creon, his daughter, and Jason. She debates the various methods by which this may be accomplished, anddecides, for her own greater safety, upon the help of magic.

First episode.—Hearing the epithalamium, Medea goes into a passion of rage. She recounts all that she has done for Jason, and exclaims against his ingratitude. Again, with shifting feelings she pleads Jason's cause to herself and strives to excuse him, blaming all upon Creon. Upon him she vows the direst vengeance. Meanwhile the nurse in vain urges prudence.Creon now enters, manifesting in his words a fear of Medea, and bent upon her immediate banishment. Medea pleads her innocence, and begs to know the reason for her exile. She reviews at length her former regal estate and contrasts with this her present forlorn condition. She claims the credit for the preservation of all the Argonautic heroes. Upon this ground she claims that Jason is hers. She begs of Creon some small corner in his kingdom for her dwelling, but the king remains obdurate. She then prays for a single day's delay in which to say farewell to her children, who are to remain, the wards of the king. This prayer Creon reluctantly grants.

Creon now enters, manifesting in his words a fear of Medea, and bent upon her immediate banishment. Medea pleads her innocence, and begs to know the reason for her exile. She reviews at length her former regal estate and contrasts with this her present forlorn condition. She claims the credit for the preservation of all the Argonautic heroes. Upon this ground she claims that Jason is hers. She begs of Creon some small corner in his kingdom for her dwelling, but the king remains obdurate. She then prays for a single day's delay in which to say farewell to her children, who are to remain, the wards of the king. This prayer Creon reluctantly grants.

First choral interlude.—The course of nature is subverted. No longer let woman alone have the reputation for falsehood; man's insincerity equals hers. In poetry the fickleness of both should be sung, just as in history it is seen. Though Medea, for her love of Jason, left her native land and braved all the terrors of the deep, she is now left all forsaken and alone. Verily truth and honor have departed from the earth.

First choral interlude.—Apropos of Medea's reference to the Argonautic heroes the chorus sings of the dangers which those first voyagers upon the sea endured; how the natural bounds which the gods set to separate the lands have now been removed—and all this for gold and this barbarian woman. (The chorus is nowhere friendly to Medea, as in Euripides.) The ode ends with a prophecy of the time when all the earth shall be revealed, and there shall be no "Ultima Thule."

Second episode.—Jason reproaches Medea for her intemperate speech against the king, which has resulted in her banishment, and shows her that he is still concerned for her interests. She retorts with reproaches because of his ingratitude, and proceeds to recount all that she had done for him and given up in his behalf. Jason replies that it was not through her help but that of Venus that he had escaped all the perils of the past, and reminds her of the advantages which she herself had gained by leaving her barbarous land for Greece. He even holds that his marriage into the royal family of Corinth is in her interest and that of her children, since by this means their common fortunes will be mended. He offers her from his new resources assistance for her exile, which she indignantly refuses, and Jason retires from her bitter taunts.

Second episode.—Medea is rushing out to seek vengeance, while the nurse tries in vain to restrain her. The nurse soliloquizes, describing the wild frenzy of her mistress, and expressing grave fears for the result. Medea, not noticing the nurse's presence, reflects upon the day that has been granted her by Creon, and vows that her terrible vengeance shall be commensurate with her sufferings. She rushes off the stage, while the nurse calls after her a last warning.Jason now enters, lamenting the difficult position in which he finds himself. He asserts that it is for his children's sake that he has done all, and hopes to be able to persuade Medea herself to take this view. Medea comes back, and at sight of Jason her fury is still further inflamed. She announces her intended flight. But whither shall she flee? For his sake she has closed all lands against herself. In bitter sarcasm she accepts all these sufferings as her just punishment. Then in a flash of fury sherecalls all her services to him and contrasts his ingratitude. She shifts suddenly to passionate entreaty, and prays him to pity her, to give back all that she gave up for him, if she must needs flee; she begs him to brave the wrath of Creon and flee with her, and promises him her protection as of old. In a long series of quick, short passages they shift from phase to phase of feeling, and finally Medea prays that in her flight she may have her children as her comrades. Jason's refusal shows how deeply he loves his sons, and here is suggested to Medea for the first time the method of her direst revenge. Jason now yields to her assumed penitence and grants her the custody of the children for this day alone. When Jason has withdrawn, she bids the nurse prepare the fatal robe which she proposes to send to her rival by the hands of her children.

Jason now enters, lamenting the difficult position in which he finds himself. He asserts that it is for his children's sake that he has done all, and hopes to be able to persuade Medea herself to take this view. Medea comes back, and at sight of Jason her fury is still further inflamed. She announces her intended flight. But whither shall she flee? For his sake she has closed all lands against herself. In bitter sarcasm she accepts all these sufferings as her just punishment. Then in a flash of fury sherecalls all her services to him and contrasts his ingratitude. She shifts suddenly to passionate entreaty, and prays him to pity her, to give back all that she gave up for him, if she must needs flee; she begs him to brave the wrath of Creon and flee with her, and promises him her protection as of old. In a long series of quick, short passages they shift from phase to phase of feeling, and finally Medea prays that in her flight she may have her children as her comrades. Jason's refusal shows how deeply he loves his sons, and here is suggested to Medea for the first time the method of her direst revenge. Jason now yields to her assumed penitence and grants her the custody of the children for this day alone. When Jason has withdrawn, she bids the nurse prepare the fatal robe which she proposes to send to her rival by the hands of her children.

Second choral interlude.—The chorus prays to be delivered from the pangs of immoderate love and jealousy, from exile, and the ingratitude of friends.

Second choral interlude.—The chorus opens on the text, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," and continues with a prayer for Jason's safety. It then recounts the subsequent history of the individual Argonauts, showing how almost all came to some untimely end. They might indeed be said to deserve this fate, for they volunteered to assist in that first impious voyage in quest of the golden fleece; but Jason should be spared the general doom, for the task had been imposed upon him by his usurping uncle, Pelias.

Third, episode.—Aegeus, in Corinth by accident, recognizes Medea, and learns from her her present grievous condition and imminent exile. She begs that he receive her into his kingdom as a friend under his protection.This he promises with a mighty oath to do.Medea, left alone with the chorus, explains to it still more in detail her plans. She will send her sons with gifts to the new bride, which, by their magic power, will destroy her and all who touch her. She adds that she will also slay her two sons, the more to injure Jason. The chorus, while protesting against this last proposal, offers no resistance.

Medea, left alone with the chorus, explains to it still more in detail her plans. She will send her sons with gifts to the new bride, which, by their magic power, will destroy her and all who touch her. She adds that she will also slay her two sons, the more to injure Jason. The chorus, while protesting against this last proposal, offers no resistance.

Third episode.—The nurse in a long monologue recites Medea's magic wonders of the past, and all her present preparations. Then Medea's voice is heard, and presently she comes upon the stage chanting her incantations. She summons up the gods of Tartara to aid her task; recounts all the wonders which her charms can work; describes her store of magic fires and other potent objects. Then breaking into quicker measure, as if filled with a fuller frenzy, she continues her incantations accompanied by wild cries and gestures. She finally dispatches her sons to Jason's bride with the robe she has anointed with her magic drugs and charged with her curses. She hastens out in the opposite direction.

Third choral interlude.—The chorus, dwelling upon Medea's proposed place of refuge, sings the praises of Athens, sacred to the Muses. It contrasts with this holy city the dreadful deed which Medea intends, and again vainly strives to dissuade her.

Third choral interlude.—The chorus notes and describes Medea's wild bearing, and prays for her speedy departure from their city.

Fourth episode.—Medea, sending for Jason, with feigned humility reproaches herself for her former intemperate words to him, and begs only that he use his influence for the reprieve of their children from exile. To assist him in this, she proposes to send the children themselves, bearing a gorgeous robe of golden tissue (which she has anointed with magic poison) as a wedding present to the bride. Upon this errand Jason retires attended by his little sons.Fourth choral interlude.—The chorus, with full knowledge of the fatal robe, pictures the delight of the bride at its reception, and laments her fearful doom.Fifth episode.—This episode is in four parts.The attendant returns with thechildren and announces to Medea that her gifts have prevailed for their reprieve. (The attendant retires.)Medea contrasts the assured career of her children with her own hapless condition; then remembers her resolve and with softening heart laments their dreadful fate. She hastily sends them within the palace. Left alone, she again struggles between her mother-love and her resolve not to leave her children subject to the scorn of her foes. (She here leaves the stage to wait for tidings from the royal house.)Then follows a monologue by the chorus leader discussing the advantages of childlessness. No reference is made to the passing events.Medea returns just in time to meet a messenger who breathlessly announces the death of Creon and his daughter. At the request of Medea he gives a detailed account of the reception of the magic robe and crown, the bride's delight, and her sudden and awful death, in which her father also was involved. He urges Medea to fly at once. She announces her intention to do so as soon as she has slain her children; and then rushes into the house.Fifth choral interlude.—This consists of a single strophe and antistrophe in which the chorus calls upon the gods to restrain Medea's mad act. Then are heard within the house the shrieks first of the two children, then of one, then silence, the chorus meanwhile wildly shouting to Medea to desist from her deadly work.

Fourth choral interlude.—The chorus, with full knowledge of the fatal robe, pictures the delight of the bride at its reception, and laments her fearful doom.

Fifth episode.—This episode is in four parts.

The attendant returns with thechildren and announces to Medea that her gifts have prevailed for their reprieve. (The attendant retires.)

Medea contrasts the assured career of her children with her own hapless condition; then remembers her resolve and with softening heart laments their dreadful fate. She hastily sends them within the palace. Left alone, she again struggles between her mother-love and her resolve not to leave her children subject to the scorn of her foes. (She here leaves the stage to wait for tidings from the royal house.)

Then follows a monologue by the chorus leader discussing the advantages of childlessness. No reference is made to the passing events.

Medea returns just in time to meet a messenger who breathlessly announces the death of Creon and his daughter. At the request of Medea he gives a detailed account of the reception of the magic robe and crown, the bride's delight, and her sudden and awful death, in which her father also was involved. He urges Medea to fly at once. She announces her intention to do so as soon as she has slain her children; and then rushes into the house.

Fifth choral interlude.—This consists of a single strophe and antistrophe in which the chorus calls upon the gods to restrain Medea's mad act. Then are heard within the house the shrieks first of the two children, then of one, then silence, the chorus meanwhile wildly shouting to Medea to desist from her deadly work.

The exode.—Jason appears in search of Medea that he may avenge on her the death of the royal pair; but mosthe fears for his children. The chorus informs him that they are already slain within the palace by their mother's hand. He prepares to force an entrance into the house.But now Medea appears in a chariot drawn by dragons. She defies Jason's power to harm her. Jason replies by reproaching her with all the murderous deeds of her life, which have culminated in this crowning deed of blood. She in turn reproaches him and his ingratitude as the cause of all. A storm of mutual imprecations follows, and Medea disappears with the bodies of her two sons, denying to Jason even the comfort of weeping over their remains.

But now Medea appears in a chariot drawn by dragons. She defies Jason's power to harm her. Jason replies by reproaching her with all the murderous deeds of her life, which have culminated in this crowning deed of blood. She in turn reproaches him and his ingratitude as the cause of all. A storm of mutual imprecations follows, and Medea disappears with the bodies of her two sons, denying to Jason even the comfort of weeping over their remains.

The exode.—A messenger comes running in from the direction of the palace, and announces that the king and his daughter are dead. The eager questions of the chorus bring out the strange circumstances attending this catastrophe. Medea enters in time to hear that her magic has been successful, and ignoring the nurse's entreaties to flee at once, she becomes absorbed in her own reflections. And now in her words may be seen the inward struggle between maternal love and jealous hate as she nerves herself for the final act of vengeance. The purpose to kill her children grows upon her, resist it as she may, until in an ecstasy of madness, urged on by a vision of her murdered brother, she slays her first son; and then, bearing the corpse of one and leading the other by the hand, she mounts to the turret of her house. Here with a refinement of cruelty she slays the second son in Jason's sight, disregarding his abject prayers for the boy's life. Now a chariot drawn by dragons appears in the air. This Medea mounts and is borne away, while Jason shouts his impotent curses after her.

Prologue.—The old Amphitryon, before the altar of Jupiter, at the entrance of the house of Hercules in Thebes, relates how Hercules has gone to the lower world to bring thence to the realms of day the triple-headed Cerberus. Meanwhile, Lycus, taking advantage of the hero's absence, has slain king Creon and usurped his throne. The father, wife, and children of Hercules he has reduced to poverty, and holds them in durance here inThebes, threatening to slay the sons,Lest, when the boys attain maturer age,They should avenge their grandsire, Creon's, death.Amphitryon condoles with Megara, and counsels with her how they may escape the dangers of their present lot.

Lest, when the boys attain maturer age,They should avenge their grandsire, Creon's, death.

Lest, when the boys attain maturer age,

They should avenge their grandsire, Creon's, death.

Amphitryon condoles with Megara, and counsels with her how they may escape the dangers of their present lot.

Prologue.—Juno complains that she is fairly driven out of heaven by her numerous rivals, mortal women who have been deified and set in the sky, either they or their offspring, by Jupiter. Especially is her wrath hot against Hercules, against whom she has waged fruitless war from his infancy until now. But he thrives on hardship, and scorns her opposition. She passes in review the hard tasks which she has set him, and all of which he has triumphantly performed. Already is he claiming a place in heaven. He can be conquered only by his own hand. Yes, this shall be turned against him, for a fury shall be summoned up from hell who shall fill his heart with madness; and in this madness shall he do deeds which shall make him long for death.

Parode, or chorus entry.—The chorus of Theban elders, feeble, tottering old men, enters and bemoans the wretched fate that has befallen their city and the household of their prince.

Parode, or chorus entry.—A vivid picture of the dawning day, when the stars and waning moon fade out before the rising sun; when Toil wakes up and resumes its daily cares; when through the fields the animals and birds are all astir with glad, new life.But in the cities men awaken to repeat the sordid round of toil, the greedy quest for gold and power. But, whether happily or unhappily, all are speeding down to the world of shades. Even before his time has Hercules gone down to Pluto's realm, and has not yet returned.

But in the cities men awaken to repeat the sordid round of toil, the greedy quest for gold and power. But, whether happily or unhappily, all are speeding down to the world of shades. Even before his time has Hercules gone down to Pluto's realm, and has not yet returned.

First episode.—Now enters Lycus, the usurper. He insolently taunts his victims on their helplessness, tells them that Hercules will never return, belittles and scorns the hero's mighty deeds, and announces his intention of killing the sons.Amphitryon answers the slanders of Lycus against Hercules, and protests against the proposed barbarous treatment of the children, who are innocent of any harm. He reproaches Thebes and all the land of Greece, because they have so ill repaid the services of their deliverer in not coming to the rescue of his wife and children. Lycus gives orders to burn the hated race of Hercules, even wherethey kneel for refuge at the altar-side; and threatens the elders who would thwart his will, bidding them remember that they are but as slaves in his sight. Yet the old men valiantly defy him, and warn him that they will withstand his attacks upon the children.But Megara shows them how foolish it is to contend against the king's unbounded power. Let them rather entreat his mercy. Could not exile be substituted for death? But no, for this is worse than death. Rather, let them all die together. Perhaps Lycus will allow her to go into the palace and deck her children in funeral garments? This prayer is granted, though Lycus warns them that they are to die at once. Left alone, Amphitryon chides Jupiter because he does not care for the children of his son:Thou know'st not howTo save thy friends. Thou surely art a god,Either devoid of wisdom, or unjust.

Amphitryon answers the slanders of Lycus against Hercules, and protests against the proposed barbarous treatment of the children, who are innocent of any harm. He reproaches Thebes and all the land of Greece, because they have so ill repaid the services of their deliverer in not coming to the rescue of his wife and children. Lycus gives orders to burn the hated race of Hercules, even wherethey kneel for refuge at the altar-side; and threatens the elders who would thwart his will, bidding them remember that they are but as slaves in his sight. Yet the old men valiantly defy him, and warn him that they will withstand his attacks upon the children.

But Megara shows them how foolish it is to contend against the king's unbounded power. Let them rather entreat his mercy. Could not exile be substituted for death? But no, for this is worse than death. Rather, let them all die together. Perhaps Lycus will allow her to go into the palace and deck her children in funeral garments? This prayer is granted, though Lycus warns them that they are to die at once. Left alone, Amphitryon chides Jupiter because he does not care for the children of his son:

Thou know'st not howTo save thy friends. Thou surely art a god,Either devoid of wisdom, or unjust.

Thou know'st not how

To save thy friends. Thou surely art a god,

Either devoid of wisdom, or unjust.

First episode.—Megara enters and bewails the fresh woes that are ever ready to meet her husband's home-coming. She recounts the incidents of his long and difficult career, his heroic suffering at Juno's bidding.And now base Lycus has taken advantage of her husband's absence in the lower world to kill her father, Creon, king of Thebes, and all his sons, and to usurp the throne—And Lycus rules the Thebes of Hercules!She prays her husband soon to come and right these wrongs, though in her heart she fears that he will never come again.Old Amphitryon tries to reassure her by recalling the superhuman valor and strength of Hercules, but without success.Now Lycus appears, boasting of the power which he has gained, not by long descent from a noble line, but by his own valor. But his house cannot stand by valor alone. He must strengthen his power by union with some princely house—he will marry Megara! Should she refuse, he will give to utter ruin all the house of Hercules.Meeting her at the moment, he attempts with specious arguments to persuade her to his plan. But Megara repulses his monstrous proposition with indignant scorn. Lycus attempts to defend his slaughter of her father and brother as done through the exigency of war, and pleads with her to put away her wrath; but all in vain, and in the end he bids his attendants heap high a funeral pyre on which to burn the woman and all her brood.When Lycus has retired, Amphitryon in his extremity prays to heaven for aid; but suddenly checks himself with incredulous joy, for he hears approaching the well-known step of Hercules!

And now base Lycus has taken advantage of her husband's absence in the lower world to kill her father, Creon, king of Thebes, and all his sons, and to usurp the throne—

And Lycus rules the Thebes of Hercules!

She prays her husband soon to come and right these wrongs, though in her heart she fears that he will never come again.

Old Amphitryon tries to reassure her by recalling the superhuman valor and strength of Hercules, but without success.

Now Lycus appears, boasting of the power which he has gained, not by long descent from a noble line, but by his own valor. But his house cannot stand by valor alone. He must strengthen his power by union with some princely house—he will marry Megara! Should she refuse, he will give to utter ruin all the house of Hercules.

Meeting her at the moment, he attempts with specious arguments to persuade her to his plan. But Megara repulses his monstrous proposition with indignant scorn. Lycus attempts to defend his slaughter of her father and brother as done through the exigency of war, and pleads with her to put away her wrath; but all in vain, and in the end he bids his attendants heap high a funeral pyre on which to burn the woman and all her brood.

When Lycus has retired, Amphitryon in his extremity prays to heaven for aid; but suddenly checks himself with incredulous joy, for he hears approaching the well-known step of Hercules!

First choral interlude.—The chorus sings in praise of the mighty works of Hercules, describing these in picturesque detail, from the destruction of the Nemean lion to his last adventure which has taken him to the world of shades, whence, alas, he will never more return. And meanwhile, lacking his protection, his friends and family are plunged in hopeless misery.

First choral interlude.—Verily fortune is unjust, for while Eurystheus sits at ease, the nobler Hercules must suffer unending hardships. His labors are briefly recapitulated. Now has he gone to hell to bring back Cerberus. Oh, that he may conquer death as all things else, and come back again, as did Orpheus by the charm of his lyre.

Second episode.—Forth from the palace, all dressed in the garb of death, come Megara and her children. Sheis ready for the doom which has been pronounced upon them. She sadly recalls the fond hopes that she and her husband had cherished for these sons. But these bright prospects have vanished now, for death is waiting to claim them all, herself as well. She will fold them in a last motherly embrace, and pour out her grief:How, like the bee with variegated wings,Shall I collect the sorrows of you all,And blend the whole together in a floodOf tears exhaustless!But perhaps even yet her absent lord has power to intervene in her behalf, though he be but a ghost. She prays despairingly that he will come to aid. Amphitryon would try the favor of Jove once more in this extremity:I call on thee, O Jove, that, if thou meanTo be a friend to these deserted children,Thou interpose without delay and save them;For soon 'twill be no longer in thy power.But at this juncture, when no help seems possible from heaven or hell, to their amazed joy, Hercules himself appears, and in the flesh. He perceives the mourning garments of his family, and the grief-stricken faces of the chorus, and quickly learns the cause of all this woe. He at once plans vengeance upon the wretch who has wrought it all. He has, himself, forewarned by a "bird of evil omen perched aloft," entered Thebes in secret; and now he will hide within his own palace and wait until Lycus comes to fetch the victims whom he has doomed to death. But first he briefly replies to Amphitryon's questions as to the success of his errand to the lower world.

How, like the bee with variegated wings,Shall I collect the sorrows of you all,And blend the whole together in a floodOf tears exhaustless!

How, like the bee with variegated wings,

Shall I collect the sorrows of you all,

And blend the whole together in a flood

Of tears exhaustless!

But perhaps even yet her absent lord has power to intervene in her behalf, though he be but a ghost. She prays despairingly that he will come to aid. Amphitryon would try the favor of Jove once more in this extremity:

I call on thee, O Jove, that, if thou meanTo be a friend to these deserted children,Thou interpose without delay and save them;For soon 'twill be no longer in thy power.

I call on thee, O Jove, that, if thou mean

To be a friend to these deserted children,

Thou interpose without delay and save them;

For soon 'twill be no longer in thy power.

But at this juncture, when no help seems possible from heaven or hell, to their amazed joy, Hercules himself appears, and in the flesh. He perceives the mourning garments of his family, and the grief-stricken faces of the chorus, and quickly learns the cause of all this woe. He at once plans vengeance upon the wretch who has wrought it all. He has, himself, forewarned by a "bird of evil omen perched aloft," entered Thebes in secret; and now he will hide within his own palace and wait until Lycus comes to fetch the victims whom he has doomed to death. But first he briefly replies to Amphitryon's questions as to the success of his errand to the lower world.

Second episode.—Hercules enters, fresh from the lower world, rejoicing that he again beholds the light of day, and exulting in the accomplishment of his latest and most difficult task; when suddenly he notices soldiers on guard, and his wife and children dressed in mourning garments. He asks what these things mean. Amphitryon answers briefly that Lycus has killed Creon and his sons, usurped the throne, and now has doomed Megara and her children to death.Hercules leaves his home at once to find, and take vengeance on, his enemy, though Theseus, whom he has rescued from the world of shades, begs for the privilege himself of slaying Lycus. Left with Amphitryon, in reply to the latter's questions, Theseus gives in great detail an account of the lower world, its way of approach, its topography, and the various creatures who dwell within its bounds. After describing in particular the operations of justice and the punishment of the condemned, he tells how Hercules overcame Cerberus and brought him to the upper world.

Hercules leaves his home at once to find, and take vengeance on, his enemy, though Theseus, whom he has rescued from the world of shades, begs for the privilege himself of slaying Lycus. Left with Amphitryon, in reply to the latter's questions, Theseus gives in great detail an account of the lower world, its way of approach, its topography, and the various creatures who dwell within its bounds. After describing in particular the operations of justice and the punishment of the condemned, he tells how Hercules overcame Cerberus and brought him to the upper world.

Second choral interlude.—The oldmen sing in envy of youth and complaint of old age:But now a burden on my headHeavier than Aetna's rock, old age, I bear.They hold that had the gods been wiser they would have given renewed youth as a reward to the virtuous, leaving the degenerate to fall asleep and wake no more. And yet, though oppressed by age, they still may "breathe the strain Mnemosyne inspires," and sing unceasingly the deeds of Hercules:Alcides, the resistless son of Jove;Those trophies which to noble birth belongBy him are all surpassed; his forceful hand,Restoring peace, hath cleansed this monster-teeming land.

Second choral interlude.—The oldmen sing in envy of youth and complaint of old age:

But now a burden on my headHeavier than Aetna's rock, old age, I bear.

But now a burden on my head

Heavier than Aetna's rock, old age, I bear.

They hold that had the gods been wiser they would have given renewed youth as a reward to the virtuous, leaving the degenerate to fall asleep and wake no more. And yet, though oppressed by age, they still may "breathe the strain Mnemosyne inspires," and sing unceasingly the deeds of Hercules:

Alcides, the resistless son of Jove;Those trophies which to noble birth belongBy him are all surpassed; his forceful hand,Restoring peace, hath cleansed this monster-teeming land.

Alcides, the resistless son of Jove;

Those trophies which to noble birth belong

By him are all surpassed; his forceful hand,

Restoring peace, hath cleansed this monster-teeming land.

Second choral interlude.—The chorus, with Theseus' words in mind, dwell in fancy still upon the lower world. They follow Hercules along "that dark way, which to the distant manes leads," and picture the thronging shades, the "repulsive glooms," and the "weary inactivity of that still, empty universe." They pray that it may be long ere they must go to that dread world, to which all the wandering tribes of earth must surely come. But away with gloomy thoughts! Now is the time for joy, for Hercules is come again. Let animals and men make holiday, and fitly celebrate their prince's world-wide victories, and their own deliverance from their recent woes.

Third episode.—Lycus enters and encounters Amphitryon without the palace. Him he bids to go within and bring out the victims to their death. To this Amphitryon objects on the ground that it would make him an accomplice in their murder. Whereupon Lycus enters the palace to do his own errand. The old man, looking after him, exclaims:Depart; for to that place the fates ordainYou now are on the road;while the chorus rejoices that now the oppressor is so soon to meet his just punishment. Now the despairing cries of Lycus are heard within and then—silence.

Depart; for to that place the fates ordainYou now are on the road;

Depart; for to that place the fates ordain

You now are on the road;

while the chorus rejoices that now the oppressor is so soon to meet his just punishment. Now the despairing cries of Lycus are heard within and then—silence.

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