Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1896) v2.djvu/471

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THE MADNESS OF HERAKLES.
415

How mournful is my plight, who am disyoked 1375
From babes, from bride! Ah bitter joy of kisses!
Ah bitter fellowship of these mine arms!
Keep—cast them from me—I know not which to do.
Hanging athwart my side thus will they say:
"With us thou slewest babes and wife—yet keep'st 1380
Thy childrens slayers!" Shall mine hand bear these?
What can I plead? Yet, naked of mine arms[1]
Wherewith I wrought most glorious deeds in Greece,
'Neath foes' feet shall I cast me?—foully die?
Leave them I may not, to my grief must keep. 1385
In one thing help me, Theseus: come to Argos
To back my claim of hire for Cerberus brought,
Lest grief for children slay me faring lone.
Land of Kadmus, all ye Theban folk,
With shorn hair grieve with me: to my sons' tomb 1390
Pass, and in one wail make ye moan for all—
The dead and me: we have wholly perished all,
Smitten by one sore doom from Hera's hand.


Theseus.

Rise, sorrow-stricken: let these tears suffice.


Herakles.

I cannot: lo, my limbs are palsy-chained. 1395


Theseus.

O yea, misfortune breaketh down the strong.

  1. ↑ He could not replace them by others as good; for they were gifts of Gods—the bow of Apollo, and the club of Hephæstus.
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