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.
- But I see Lycus, the ruler of this land, drawing near the house.
- 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?
- 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;
- and you, to Megara after calling yourself the wife of so peerless a lord.
- 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.
- 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;
- 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.
- 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.
- 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
- 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,
- 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?
- 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;
- 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;
- 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,
- 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
- 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,
- 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;
- abstain from all violence, else you will suffer by it whenever the god causes fortune’s breeze to veer round.
- 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?
- 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
- 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.
- 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
- be flying from my spear beyond the bounds of Atlas.
- Have not the brave among mankind a fair occasion for speech, although slow to begin?
- Say what you will of me in your exalted phrase, but I by deeds will make you rue those words.
- 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
- 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
- misfortunes, and you shall never forget you are slaves and I your prince.
- —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,
- 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.
- —Nor shall you reap the harvest of all my toil;
- 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.
- —You are in possession of this land which you have ruined,
- while he, its benefactor, has missed his just reward.
- —And yet do I take too much upon myself because I help those I love after their death, when most they need a friend?
- —Ah! right hand, how you desire to wield the spear, but your weakness is a death-blow to your desire.
- 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.
- 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.
- 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
- 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;
- 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.
- 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,
- 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;
- 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
- shows zeal no doubt, but it is zeal with a taint of folly; for what must be, no one will ever avail to alter.
- 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,
- must scheme how to avert misfortune.
- 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
- 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
- and their father’s father; for the rest work your will if so you are inclined; for we have no defense against death.
- 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,
- first opening the palace gates, for now we are shut out, so that this at least they may obtain from their father’s halls.
- 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,
- I will return to you to consign you to the nether world. Exit Lycus.
- 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.
- O Zeus, in vain, it seems, did I get you to share my bride with me;
- 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,
- 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.
- Phoebus is singing a dirge, after his happier strains,
- 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,
- whether I am to call him son of Zeus or of Amphitryon. For the virtue of noble toils is a glory to the dead.
- First he cleared the grove of Zeus
- of a lion, and put its skin upon his back, hiding his hair in its fearful gaping jaws.
- And then one day with murderous bow he wounded
- 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,
- and the steadings on Pelion and neighboring caves of Homole, from where the Centaurs rode forth to conquer Thessaly, arming themselves with pines.
- And he slew that dappled deer with horns of gold, that preyed upon the country-folk, glorifying Artemis, huntress queen of Oenoe.
- 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;
- then crossing the heights of Hebrus that flow with silver, he still toiled on for the tyrant of Mycenae.
- And at the strand of the Pelian gulf
- by the streams of Anaurus, he slew with his arrows Cycnus, murderer of his guests, the savage wretch who dwelt in Amphanae.
- And he came to those minstrel maids,
- 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;
- and he made his way into ocean’s lairs, bringing calm to men that use the oar.
- And he stretched out his hands to uphold the firmament,
- seeking the home of Atlas, and on his manly shoulders took the starry mansions of the gods.
- Then he went through the waves of heaving Euxine against the mounted host of Amazons dwelling round Maeotis,
- the lake that is fed by many a stream, having gathered to his standard all his friends from Hellas, to fetch the gold-embroidered raiment of the warrior queen,
- a deadly quest for a girdle. Hellas won those glorious spoils of the barbarian maid, and they are safe in Mycenae.
- He burned to ashes Lerna’s murderous hound,
- the many-headed water-snake, and smeared its venom on his darts, with which he slew the shepherd of Erytheia, a monster with three bodies.
- And many another glorious achievement he brought to a happy issue; to Hades’ house of tears has he now sailed, the goal of his labors, where he is ending his career of toil, nor does he come back again.
- Now your house is left without a friend, and Charon’s boat awaits your children to bear them on that journey out of life, without return, contrary to the gods’ law and man’s justice; and it is to your prowess
- that your house is looking although you are not here.
- Had I been strong and lusty, able to brandish the spear in battle’s onset, and my Theban companions too, I would have stood by your children
- to champion them; but now my happy youth is gone and I am left.
- But look! I see the children of Heracles who was once so great, wearing the clothes of the dead,
- and his loving wife dragging her babes along at her side, and Heracles’ aged father. Ah! woe is me! no longer can I stem the flood of tears
- that spring to my old eyes.
- Come now, who is to sacrifice or butcher these poor children? or rob me of my wretched life? These victims are ready to be led to Hades’ halls. O my children! an ill-matched company are we hurried off to die,
- old men and young ones and mothers, all together. Alas! for my sad fate and my children’s, whom these eyes now for the last time behold. So I gave you birth and reared you only for our foes to mock, to jeer at, and slay.
- Ah me! how bitterly my hopes have disappointed me in the expectation I once formed from the words of your father. Addressing each of her three sons in turn. To you your dead father was for giving Argos; and you were to dwell in the halls of Eurystheus, lording it over the fair fruitful land of Argolis;
- and over your head would he throw that lion’s skin with which he himself was armed. And you were to be king of Thebes, famed for its chariots, receiving as your heritage my broad lands, for so you coaxed your dear father;
- and to your hand he used to resign the carved club, his sure defence, pretending to give it to you. And to you he promised to give Oechalia, which once his archery had wasted. Thus with three principalities
- would your father exalt you, his three sons, proud of your manliness; while I was choosing the best brides for you, scheming to link you by marriage to Athens, Thebes, and Sparta, that you might live a happy life with a fast sheet-anchor to hold by.
- And now that is all vanished; fortune’s breeze has veered and given to you for brides the maidens of death in their stead, and my tears will be the marriage bath; woe is me for my foolish thoughts! and your grandfather here is celebrating your marriage-feast, the cares of a father, accepting Hades as the father of your brides.
- Ah me! which of you shall I first press to my bosom, which last? on which bestow my kiss, or clasp close to me? Oh! would that like the bee with russet wing, I could collect from every source my sighs in one, and, blending them together, shed them in one copious flood!
- O my dearest Heracles, to you I call, if perhaps mortal voice can make itself heard in Hades’ halls; your father and children are dying, and I am doomed, I who once because of you was counted blessed as men count bliss. Come to our rescue; appear, I pray, if only as a phantom,
- since your arrival, even as a dream, would be enough, for they are cowards who are slaying your children.
- Lady, prepare the funeral rites; but I, O Zeus, stretching out my hand to heaven, call on you to help these children,
- if such is your intention; for soon any aid of yours will be unavailing; and yet you have been often invoked; my toil is in vain; death seems inevitable. You aged friends, the joys of life are few; so take heed that you pass through it as gladly as you may,
- without a thought of sorrow from morning until night; for time takes little heed of preserving our hopes; and, when he has busied himself on his own business, away he flies. Look at me, a man who had made a mark among his fellows by deeds of note; yet fortune in a single day
- has robbed me of it as of a feather that floats away toward the sky. I know not any whose plenteous wealth and high reputation is fixed and sure; fare you well, for now you have seen the last of your old friend, my comrades.