Heracles

Euripides

Euripides. The Plays of Euripides, Translated into English Prose from the Text of Paley. Vol. II. Coleridge, Edward P., translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1891.

  1. What mortal has not heard of the one who shared a wife with Zeus, Amphitryon of Argos, whom once Alcaeus, son of Perseus, begot, Amphitryon the father of Heracles? Who lived here in Thebes, where from the sowing
  2. of the dragon’s teeth grew up a crop of earth-born giants; and of these Ares saved a scanty band, and their children’s children people the city of Cadmus. Hence sprung Creon, son of Menoeceus, king of this land;
  3. and Creon became the father of this lady Megara, whom once all Cadmus’ race escorted with the glad music of lutes at her wedding, when the famous Heracles led her to my halls. Now he, my son, left Thebes where I was settled, left his wife Megara and her kin,
  4. eager to make his home in Argolis, in that walled town which the Cyclopes built, from which I am exiled for the slaying of Electryon; so he, wishing to lighten my affliction and to find a home in his own land, offered Eurystheus a mighty price for my recall:
  5. to free the world of savage monsters, whether it was that Hera goaded him to submit to this, or that fate was leagued against him. Other toils he has accomplished, and last of all has he passed through the mouth of Taenarus into the halls of Hades to drag to the light
  6. that hound with three bodies, and from there he has never returned. Now there is an ancient legend among the race of Cadmus that a certain Lycus in days gone by was husband to Dirce, and he was king of this city with its seven towers, before Amphion and Zethus, sons of Zeus,
  7. lords of the milk-white steeds, became rulers in the land. His son, called by the same name as his father, although no Theban but a stranger from Euboea, slew Creon, and after that seized the government, having fallen on this city when weakened by dissension.
  8. So this family connection with Creon is likely to prove to us a serious evil; for now that my son is in the bowels of the earth, this new monarch Lycus is bent on extirpating the children of Heracles,
  9. to quench one bloody feud with another, likewise his wife and me, if useless age like mine is to rank among men, that the boys may never grow up to exact a blood-penalty of their uncle’s family. So I, left here by my son, while he is gone into the pitchy darkness of the earth,
  10. to tend and guard his children in his house, am taking my place with their mother, that the race of Heracles may not perish, here at the altar of Zeus the Savior, which my own gallant child set up
  11. to commemorate his glorious victory over the Minyae. And here we are careful to keep our station, though in need of everything, of food, drink and clothes, huddled together on the hard bare ground; for we are barred out from our house and sit here for want of any other safety.
  12. As for friends, some I see are unreliable; while others, who are staunch, have no power to help us further. This is what misfortune means to man; may it never fall to the lot of any who bears the least goodwill to me, to apply this never-failing test of friendship!
Megara
  1. Old warrior, who once razed the citadel of the Taphians leading on the troops of Thebes to glory, how uncertain are the gods’ dealings with man! I, for instance, as far as concerned my father, was never an outcast of fortune, for he was once accounted a man of might by reason of his wealth,
  2. possessed as he was of royal power, for which long spears are launched at the lives of the fortunate through love of it; children too he had; and he gave me to your son, matching me in glorious marriage with Heracles. And now all that is dead and gone from us;
  3. and I and you, old friend, are doomed to die, and these children of Heracles, whom I am guarding beneath my wing as a bird keeps her tender chicks under her. And they one after another keep asking me: Mother, tell us, where is our father gone from the land?
  4. what is he doing? when will he return? Thus they inquire for their father, in childish perplexity; while I put them off with excuses, inventing stories; but still I wonder if it is he whenever a door creaks on its hinges, and up they all start, thinking to embrace their father’s knees.
  5. What hope or way of salvation are you now devising, old friend? for I look to you. We can never steal beyond the boundaries of the land unseen, for there is too strict a watch set on us at every outlet, nor have we any longer hopes of safety
  6. in our friends. Whatever your scheme is, declare it, lest our death be made ready.
Amphitryon
  1. It is by no means easy, my daughter, to give one’s earnest advice on such matters off hand, without weary thought; but let us prolong the time, since we are powerless to escape.
Megara
  1. Do you need a further taste of grief, or do you cling so fast to life?
Amphitryon
  1. Yes, I love this life, and cling to its hopes.
Megara
  1. So do I; but you should not expect the unexpected, old friend.
Amphitryon
  1. In these delays the only cure for our evils is left.
Megara
  1. It is the biting pain of that interval I feel so.
Amphitryon
  1. Daughter, there may yet be a happy escape from present troubles for me and you; my son, your husband, may yet arrive. So calm yourself, and wipe those tears from your children’s eyes, and soothe them with soft words,
  2. inventing a tale to delude then, piteous though such fraud be. Yes, for even men’s misfortunes often flag, and the stormy wind does not always blow so strong, nor are the prosperous ever so; for all things change, making way for each other.
  3. The bravest man is he who relies ever on his hopes, but despair is the mark of a coward.
Chorus
  1. To the sheltering roof, to the old man’s couch, leaning on my staff have I set forth,
  2. chanting a plaintive dirge like some bird grown grey, I that am only a voice and a fancy bred of the visions of sleep by night, palsied with age, yet meaning kindly. All hail! you orphaned children!
  3. all hail, old friend! you too, unhappy mother, wailing for your husband in the halls of Hades!
Chorus
  1. Do not faint too soon upon your way,
  2. or let your limbs grow weary, as a colt beneath the yoke grows weary as he mounts some stony hill, dragging the weight of a wheeled chariot. Take hold of hand or robe, who ever feels his footsteps falter.
  3. Old friend, escort another like yourself, who once amid his toiling peers in the days of our youth would take his place beside you, no blot upon his country’s glorious record.
Chorus
  1. See, how like their father’s sternly flash these children’s eyes! Misfortune has not failed his children, nor yet has his comeliness been denied them.
  2. O Hellas! if you lose these, of what allies will you rob yourself!
Chorus
  1. But I see Lycus, the ruler of this land, drawing near the house.
Lycus
  1. One question, if I may, to this father of Heracles and his wife; and certainly as your lord and master I have a right to put what questions I choose. How long do you seek to prolong your lives? What hope, what aid do you see to save you from death?
  2. Do you trust that these children’s father, who lies dead in the halls of Hades, will return? How unworthily you show your sorrow at having to die, you to Amphitryon after your idle boasts, scattered broadcast through Hellas, that Zeus was partner in your marriage-bed and was your partner in children;
  3. and you, to Megara after calling yourself the wife of so peerless a lord.
  4. After all, what was the fine exploit your husband achieved, if he did kill a water-snake in a marsh or that monster of Nemea? which he caught in a snare, for all he says he strangled it to death in his arms.
  5. Are these your weapons for the hard struggle? Is it for this then that Heracles’ children should be spared? A man who has won a reputation for valor in his contests with beasts, in all else a weakling;
  6. who never buckled shield to arm nor faced the spear, but with a bow, that coward’s weapon, was ever ready to run away. Archery is no test of manly bravery; no! he is a man who keeps his post in the ranks and steadily faces the swift wound the spear may plough.
  7. My policy, again, old man, shows no reckless cruelty, but caution; for I am well aware I slew Creon, the father of this woman, and am in possession of his throne. So I have no wish that these children should grow up and be left to take vengeance on me in requital for what I have done.
Amphitryon
  1. Let Zeus defend his his own share in his son; but as for me, Heracles, it is my concern on your behalf to prove by what I say this tyrant’s ignorance; for I cannot allow you to be ill spoken of. First then for that which should never have been said—for to speak
  2. of you, Heracles, as a coward is, I think, outside the pale of speech—of that must I clear you with heaven to witness. I appeal then to the thunder of Zeus, and the chariot in which he rode, when he pierced the Giants, earth’s brood, to the heart with his winged shafts,
  3. and with gods uplifted the glorious triumph song; or go to Pholoe and ask the insolent tribe of four-legged Centaurs, you craven king, ask them who they would judge the bravest of men; will they not say my son, who according to you is but a pretender?
  4. Were you to ask Euboean Dirphys, your native place, it would not sing your praise, for you have never done a single gallant deed to which your country can witness. Next you disparage that clever invention, an archer’s weapon;
  5. come, listen to me and learn wisdom. A man who fights in line is a slave to his weapons, and if his fellow-comrades want for courage he is slain himself through the cowardice of his neighbors, or, if he breaks his spear, he cannot defend his body from death, having only one means of defence;
  6. whereas all who are armed with the trusty bow, though they have but one weapon, yet is it the best; for a man, after discharging countless arrows, still has others with which to defend himself from death, and standing at a distance keeps off the enemy, wounding them for all their watchfulness with invisible shafts,
  7. and never exposing himself to the foe, but keeping under cover; and this is by far the wisest course in battle, to harm the enemy and keep safe oneself, independent of chance. These arguments completely contradict yours
  8. with regard to the matter at issue. Next, why are you desirous of slaying these children? What have they done to you? One piece of wisdom I credit you with, your coward terror of a brave man’s descendants. Still it is hard on us,
  9. if for your cowardice we must die; a fate that ought to have overtaken you at our braver hands, if Zeus had been fairly disposed towards us. But, if you are so anxious to make yourself supreme in the land, let us go into exile;
  10. abstain from all violence, else you will suffer by it whenever the god causes fortune’s breeze to veer round.
  11. Ah! you land of Cadmus—for to you too will I turn, distributing my words of reproach—is this your defense of Heracles and his children?
  12. the man who faced alone all the Minyans in battle and allowed Thebes to see the light with free eyes. I cannot praise Hellas, nor will I ever keep silence, finding her so craven as regards my son; she should have come with fire and sword and warrior’s arms
  13. to help these tender chicks, to requite him for all his labors in purging land and sea. Such help, my children, neither Hellas nor the city of Thebes affords you; to me a feeble friend you look, and I am empty sound and nothing more.
  14. For the vigor which once I had, has gone from me; my limbs are palsied with age, and my strength is decayed. If I were young and still powerful in body, I would have seized my spear and dabbled those flaxen locks of his with blood, so that the coward would now
  15. be flying from my spear beyond the bounds of Atlas.
Chorus Leader
  1. Have not the brave among mankind a fair occasion for speech, although slow to begin?
Lycus
  1. Say what you will of me in your exalted phrase, but I by deeds will make you rue those words.
  2. Calling to his servants Go, some to Helicon, others to the glens of Parnassus, and bid woodmen to cut me logs of oak, and when they are brought to the town, pile up a stack of wood all round the altar on either side, and set fire to it and burn them
  3. all alive, that they may learn that the dead no longer rules this land, but that for the present I am king. Angrily to the Chorus As for you, old men, since you thwart my views, not for the children of Heracles alone shall you lament, but likewise for your own
  4. misfortunes, and you shall never forget you are slaves and I your prince.
Chorus
  1. —You sons of Earth, whom Ares once sowed, when from the dragon’s ravening jaw he had torn the teeth, up with your staves, on which you lean your hands,
  2. and dash out this villain’s brains! a fellow who, without even being a Theban, but a foreigner, lords it shamefully over the younger men; but my master shall you never be to your joy.
  3. —Nor shall you reap the harvest of all my toil;
  4. Go back to where you came from, in your insolence. For never while I live, shall you slay these sons of Heracles; not so deep beneath the earth has their father disappeared from his children’s ken.
  5. —You are in possession of this land which you have ruined,
  6. while he, its benefactor, has missed his just reward.
  7. —And yet do I take too much upon myself because I help those I love after their death, when most they need a friend?
  8. —Ah! right hand, how you desire to wield the spear, but your weakness is a death-blow to your desire.
  9. For then I would have stopped you calling me slave, and I would have governed Thebes with credit. In which you now rejoice; for a city sick with dissension and evil counsels does not think aright; otherwise it would never have accepted you as its master.
Megara
  1. Old men, I thank you; it is right that friends should feel virtuous indignation on behalf of those they love; but do not on our account vent your anger on the tyrant to your own undoing. Hear my advice, Amphitryon, if there appears to you to be anything in what I say.
  2. I love my children; strange if I did not love those whom I bore, whom I labored for! Death I count a dreadful fate; but the man who strives against necessity I esteem a fool. Since we must die, let us do so
  3. without being burnt alive, a source of mockery to our enemies, which to my mind is an evil worse than death; for much good do we owe our family. You have always had a warrior’s fair fame, so it is not to be endured that you should die a coward’s death;
  4. and my husband’s reputation needs no one to witness that he would never consent to save these children’s lives by letting them incur the stain of cowardice; for the noble are afflicted by disgrace on account of their children, nor must I shrink from following my lord’s example.
  5. As to your hopes consider how I weigh them. Do you think your son will return from beneath the earth? And who ever has come back from the dead out of the halls of Hades? But would you soften this man by entreaty? Oh no! better to fly from one’s enemy when he is so brutish,
  6. but yield to men of breeding and culture; for you would more easily conclude a friendly truce by accepting regard. True, a thought has already occurred to me that we might by entreaty obtain a sentence of exile for the children; yet this too is misery, to compass their deliverance with dire penury as the result;
  7. for it is a saying that hosts look sweetly on banished friends for a day and no more. Endure to die with us, for that awaits you after all. By your brave soul I challenge you, old friend; for whoever struggles hard to escape destiny sent by the gods
  8. shows zeal no doubt, but it is zeal with a taint of folly; for what must be, no one will ever avail to alter.
Chorus Leader
  1. If a man had insulted you, while yet my arms were strong, there would have been an easy way to stop him; but now am I am nothing ; and so you henceforth, Amphitryon,
  2. must scheme how to avert misfortune.
Amphitryon
  1. It is not cowardice or any longing for life that hinders my dying, but my wish to save my son’s children, though no doubt I am longing for the impossible. See! here is my neck ready for the sword
  2. to pierce, to hack, to hurl from the rock; only one favor I crave for both of us, king; slay me and this hapless mother before you slay the children, that we may not see the hideous sight, as they gasp out their lives, calling on their mother
  3. and their father’s father; for the rest work your will if so you are inclined; for we have no defense against death.
Megara
  1. I too implore you add a second favor, that by your single act you may put us both under a double obligation; allow me to deck my children in the robes of death,
  2. first opening the palace gates, for now we are shut out, so that this at least they may obtain from their father’s halls.
Lycus
  1. I grant it, and bid my servants undo the bolts. Go in and deck yourselves; robes do not grudge. But as soon as you have clothed yourselves,
  2. I will return to you to consign you to the nether world. Exit Lycus.
Megara
  1. Children, follow the footsteps of your hapless mother to your father’s house, where others possess his substance, though his name is still ours. Exit Megara with her children.
Amphitryon
  1. O Zeus, in vain, it seems, did I get you to share my bride with me;
  2. in vain used we to call you partner in my son. After all you are less our friend than you pretended. Great god as you are, I, a mortal, surpass you in true worth. For I did not betray the children of Heracles; but you by stealth found your way to my bed,
  3. taking another’s wife without leave given, while to save your own friends you have no skill. Either you are a god of little sense, or else naturally unjust. Exit Amphitryon.
Chorus
  1. Phoebus is singing a dirge, after his happier strains,
  2. for Linus dead in his beauty, striking his lyre with key of gold; but I wish to sing a song of praise, a crown to all his toil, on the one who has gone to the gloom beneath the nether world,
  3. whether I am to call him son of Zeus or of Amphitryon. For the virtue of noble toils is a glory to the dead.
Chorus
  1. First he cleared the grove of Zeus
  2. of a lion, and put its skin upon his back, hiding his hair in its fearful gaping jaws.
Chorus
  1. And then one day with murderous bow he wounded
  2. the race of wild Centaurs, that range the hills, slaying them with winged shafts. Peneus, the river of fair eddies, knows him well, and those far fields unharvested,
  3. and the steadings on Pelion and neighboring caves of Homole, from where the Centaurs rode forth to conquer Thessaly, arming themselves with pines.
Chorus
  1. And he slew that dappled deer with horns of gold, that preyed upon the country-folk, glorifying Artemis, huntress queen of Oenoe.
Chorus
  1. Next he mounted on a chariot and tamed with the bit the horses of Diomedes, that greedily champed their bloody food at gory mangers with unbridled jaws, devouring with hideous joy the flesh of men;
  2. then crossing the heights of Hebrus that flow with silver, he still toiled on for the tyrant of Mycenae.
Chorus
  1. And at the strand of the Pelian gulf
  2. by the streams of Anaurus, he slew with his arrows Cycnus, murderer of his guests, the savage wretch who dwelt in Amphanae.
Chorus
  1. And he came to those minstrel maids,
  2. to their orchard in the west, to pluck from the leafy apple-tree its golden fruit, when he had slain the tawny dragon, whose terrible coils were twined all round to guard it;
  3. and he made his way into ocean’s lairs, bringing calm to men that use the oar.
Chorus
  1. And he stretched out his hands to uphold the firmament,