Tragedies of Euripides (Way)/The Children of Herakles

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Eurystheus, king of Argos, hated Herakles all his life through, and sought to destroy him. by thrusting on him many and desperate labours. And when Herakles had been caught up to Olympus from the pyre whereon he was consumed on Mount Oeta, Eurystheus persecuted the hero's children, and sought to slay them. Wherefore Iolaus, their father's friend and helper, fled with them. But in whatsoever city they sought refuge, thence were they driven; for Eurystheus ever made search for them, and demanded them with threats of war. So fleeing from land to land, they came at the last to Marathon which belongeth to Athens, and there took sanctuary at the temple of Zeus. Thither came the folk of the land compassionating them, and Eurystheus' herald requiring their surrender, and the king of Athens, Theseus' son, to hear their cause. And herein is told the tale of the war that came of his refusal to yield them up, of the sacrifice of a noble maiden which the Gods required as the price of victory, of an old warrior by miracle made young, and of the vengeance of Alkmena.

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I hold it truth,—a lesson learnt long since,—
Born is the just man for his neighbours' help:
But he whose soul uncurbed speeds after gain,
To the state useless, in his dealings hard,
Is but his own friend;—nor by hearing know it; 5
Since I, for honour's sake and kinship's bond,
Who might in Argos peacefully have dwelt,
Bore chief share in the toils of Herakles
When he was with us. Now that in the heaven
He dwells, his babes I shelter 'neath my wings 10
Defending, who myself sore need defence.
For, soon as from the earth their sire had passed,
Us would Eurystheus at the first have slain,
But we fled. Now our city, our home, is lost,
Life only saved. We are exiled wanderers 15
From city unto city moving on.
For on our other wrongs this coping-stone
Of outrage hath Eurystheus dared to set,—
Heralds to each land where we bide he sends,
Demandeth us, and biddeth drive us forth, 20
​Warning them that no weakling friend or foe
Is Argos, and himself a mighty king.
And they, discerning that my cause is weak,
These, but young children orphaned of their sire,
Bow to the strong, and drive us from their land. 25
I with his banished babes share banishment,
And with their ill plight am in evil plight.
Forsake them I dare not, lest men should say:
"See, now the children's father is no more,
Iolaus wards them not,—their kinsman he!" 30
And so, from all the soil of Hellas banned,
To Marathon and the federate land we come,
At the Gods' altars sitting suppliant,
That they may help; for Theseus' scions twain,
Saith rumour, in the plains of this land dwell, 35
By lot their heritage, Pandion's seed,
And kin to these, for which cause have we come
This journey unto glorious Athens' bounds,
Old captains we that lead this exile-march,—
I, for these lads heart-full of troubled thought; 40
And she, Alkmena, in yon temple folds
Her arms about the daughters of her son,
And guards: for we think shame to let young girls
Stand, a crowd's gazing-stock, on altar-steps.
Now Hyllus and his brethren elder-born 45
Seek some land for our refuge and our home,
If from this soil we be with violence thrust.
—O children, children, hither!—seize my robes!
Yonder I see Eurystheus' herald come
Against us, him of whom we are pursued, 50
The homeless wanderers barred from every land.
Enter Kopreus.
Loathed wretch! Now ruin seize thee and him that sent,
​Who ofttimes to the noble sire of these
From that same mouth hast published evil hests.

Ha, deem'st thou this thy session bravely chosen, 55
This state thou hast reached thine ally? O thou fool!
There is no man shall choose that impotence
Of thy poor strength before Eurystheus' power.
Away! Why make this coil? Thou must depart
To Argos, where the doom of stoning waits thee, 60

Never: for the God's altar shall avail,
And the free land whereunto we have come.

Ha! wouldst thou find some work for this mine hand?

Nor me nor these by force shalt thou hale hence.

That shalt thou prove: ill seer thou art in this. 65

This shall not be!—no, never while I live!

Hands off!—these will I hale, though thou say nay,
Accounting them Eurystheus': his they are.

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O ye, in Athens dwellers from of old,
Help! Suppliants we of Zeus of the Market-stead 70
Are evil-entreated, holy wreaths defiled,
To Athens' shame and to your Gods' dishonour!

Enter Chorus.

What ho! what outcry by the altar wakes?
Now what calamity shall this reveal?

Behold ye!—the eld-stricken see 75
In his feebleness hurled to the ground, woe's me!

Of whom thus pitiably wast thou dashed down?

This man, O strangers, sets thy Gods at naught,^[1]
And drags me from the altar-floor of Zeus.

But from what land, O ancient, hast thou come 80
To the folk of the Four Burgs' federal home?
Were ye sped overseas by the brine-dipt oar
To our land from Eubœa's craggy shore?

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Strangers, no island-dweller's life is mine;
But from Mycenæ come we to thy land. 85

Herakles' henchman haply do ye know,
Iolaus, for not fameless was my name.

I know; long since I heard: but whose are they, 90
The fosterling lads that thine hand leadeth hitherward?—say.

Strangers, the sons they are of Herakles,
Which have to thee and Athens suppliant come.

Given up we would not be, nor torn away
Hence, in thy Gods' despite, and sent to Argos.

Ay, but this shall not satisfy thy masters
Whose lordship o'er thee holds, who find thee here. 100

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God's suppliants, stranger, must we reverence,
And not with hands of violence tear them hence,
From this place where the Holy Presence is;
The majesty of Justice shall not suffer this.

Then from your land send these, Eurystheus' thralls, 105
And this mine hand shall do no violence.

'Tis well to keep thy foot from trouble's snare,
And in good counsel find the better part. 110

Thou shouldst have shown respect to this free land,
And told her King, ere thy presumption tore
Therefrom the strangers in her Gods' despite.

And who is of this land and city king?

Demophon, Theseus' child, a brave sire's son. 115

With him then must all strife of this dispute
Be held alone: all else is idle talk.

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Lo, hitherward himself in haste draws nigh,
And Akamas his brother, to hear thy claim.

Enter Demophon, Akamas, and attendants.

Since thou, the old, preventedst younger men 120
In rescue-rush to Zeus's altar-hearth.
Tell thou what chance hath gathered all this throng.

Here suppliant sit the sons of Herakles,
Who have wreathed the altar, as thou seest, O king,
And Iolaus, leal henchman of their sire. 125

What need herein for lamentable cries?

Yon man essayed to drag them from the hearth
By force; raised outcry so, and earthward hurled
The ancient, that for ruth burst forth my tears.

Yet is the fashion of his vesture Greek; 130
But deeds of a barbarian hand are these.
Man, thine it is to tell me, tarrying not.
From what land's marches hither thou hast come.

An Argive I, since this thou wouldest know.
​Wherefore I come, and from whom, will I tell: 135
Mycenæ's king Eurystheus sends me hither
To lead these hence. Stranger, I bring with me
Just pleas in plenty, both for act and speech.
Myself an Argive would lead Argives hence,
Who find them runaways from mine own land, 140
By statutes of that land condemned to die.
For, dwellers in a state subject to none,
The right is ours to ratify her decrees.
And, though they have come to hearths of many folk,
Still on the same plea did we take our stand, 145
And ruin on his own head none dared bring.
But these came hither, haply spying folly
In thee, or staking on one desperate throw
Their venture, or to win or lose it all:—
For sure they deem not thou, if sound of wit, 150
Alone in all this Hellas they have traversed,
Wilt have compassion on their hopeless plight.
Weigh this and that:—if thou grant these a home,
Or let us hale them hence—what then thy gain?
As touching us, these boons thou mayest win: 155
Argos' strong hand and all Eurystheus' might
Thou mayest range upon this city's side.
If thou regard their pleadings, by their whinings
Be softened, to the grapple of the spear
The matter cometh. Never think that we 160
Will yield this strife but by the sword's award.
What canst thou plead? Of what lands art thou robbed,
That with Tirynthian Argives thou wouldst war?—
What allies so defending?—In whose cause
Shall those thou buriest fall? Ill fame were thine 165
With thine Athenians, if for yon old man,
​That sepulchre,—mere naught, as men might say,—
And these boys, in deep waters thou wilt sink.
What is thy best plea? Hope for days to come?
Scant satisfaction for the present this! 170
For against Argos these, armed, grown to man,
Should make but feeble stand,—if haply this
Uplift thine heart;—and long years lie between,
Wherein ye may be ruined. Nay, heed me:
Give naught, but suffer me to take mine own; 175
So gain Mycenæ:—not, as your wont is,
Thus fare, that, when 'tis yours to choose for friend
The stronger cause, ye take the weaker side.

Who can give judgment, who grasp arguments,
Ere from both sides he clearly learn their pleas? 180

King, this advantage have I in your land,
I am free to speak and in my turn to hear;
None, as from other lands, will first expel me.
We and this man have nought in common now;
We have nought to do with Argos any more 185
Since that decree: we are exiled from her soil.
What right hath he to hale us, whom they banished,
As we were burghers of Mycenæ yet?
Aliens we are:—or from all Hellas banned
Are men whom Argos exiles?—claim ye this? 190
Sooth, not from Athens: she shall drive not forth,
For fear of Argives, sons of Herakles.
She is no Trachis, no Achaian burg,^[2]
​As that whence thou didst drive these—not of right,
But, even as now, by vaunting Argos' power,— 195
These, suppliant at the altar as they sat!
If this shall be, if she but ratify
Thine bests, free Athens then no more I know.
Nay, her sons' nature know I, know their mood:
They will die sooner; for in brave men's eyes 200
The honour that fears shame is more than life.
Suffice for Athens this; for over-praise
Is odious: yea, myself have oftentimes,
Praised above measure, been but galled thereby.
But that thou canst not choose but save these boys 205
I would show thee, who rulest o'er this land.
Pittheus was Pelops' son: of Pittheus sprang
Aithra; of her was thy sire Theseus born.
Again, the lineage of these lads I trace:
Zeus' and Alkmena's son was Herakles: 210
She, child of Pelops' daughter: cousins then
Shall be thy father and the sire of these.
So their near kinsman art thou, Demophon:
But what requital—ties of blood apart—
Thou owest to these lads, I tell thee:—once 215
Shield-bearer to their sire, I sailed with him
To win for Theseus that Belt slaughter-fraught;^[3]
And from black gulfs of Hades he brought up
Thy sire: all Hellas witnesseth to this.
This to requite, one boon they crave of thee,— 220
Not to be given up, nor torn by force
From thy Gods' fanes, and banished from thy land;
For this were thy shame, Athens' bane withal,
That homeless suppliants, kinsmen,—ah, their woes!
​Look on them, look!—be dragged away by force. 225
O, I beseech—I lay the wreath-spell on thee—
By thine hands and thine head, set not at naught
Herakles' sons, who hast them in thine hands.
Prove thee to these true kinsman, prove thee friend,
Their father, brother, lord—better all these,^[4] 230
Than into hands of Argive men to fall!

I pity these in their affliction, king.
High birth by fortune crushed I now behold
As ne'er before: born of a noble sire
Are these, yet suffer woes unmerited. 235

Three influences, that meet in one, constrain me,
Iolaus, not to thrust these from my land:
The chiefest, Zeus, upon whose altar thou
Art sitting with these nestlings compassed round;
Then, kinship, and the debt of old, that these 240
Should for their sire's sake fare well at mine hands;
Third, dread of shame,—this must my soul regard:
For if I let this altar be despoiled
By alien force, I shall be held to dwell
In no free land, but cowed by fear of Argos 245
To yield up suppliants:—hanging were not worse!
I would that thou hadst come in happier plight;
Yet, even so, fear not that any man
Shall from this altar tear thee with these boys.
​Thou, (to the herald) go to Argos; tell Eurystheus this: 250
And, if he implead these strangers in our courts,
He shall have right. These shalt thou hale hence never.

Not if my cause be just, my plea prevail?

Just?—to hale hence by force the suppliant?

Then mine the shame: no harm befalleth thee.^[5] 255

My shame too, if I let thee drag these hence.

Banish them thou: then I will lead them thence.

O born a fool, who wouldst outwit the God!

So hither felons must for refuge flee!

The God's house gives to all men sanctuary. 260

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Haply not so shall think Mycenæ's folk.

Am I not master then in mine own land?

Not unto Argos' hurt,—so thou be wise.

The hurt be yours, so I flout not the Gods.

I would not thou with Argos shouldst have war. 265

I too: yet will I not abandon these.

Yet will I take mine own and hale them hence.

Not lightly shalt thou win to Argos back.

That will I now try, and be certified.

Touch these, and thou shalt rue, and that right soon. 270

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Dare not to strike a herald, for heaven's sake!

That will I, if the herald learn not wisdom.

[To Herald] Depart thou:—touch thou not this man, O king.

I go; for feeble fight one hand may make.
But I will hither come with brazen mail 275
And spears of Argos' war: warriors untold
Await me; and Eurystheus' self, our king,
Their chief, expecting what shall come from hence,
Waits on the marches of Alkathous.^[6]
He shall flash forth, being told thine insolence, 280
On thee, thy folk, this land, and all her fruits.
For all this warrior youth were ours for nought
In Argos, if we avenge us not on thee.

Begone! I fear not that thine Argos, I!
'Twas not for thee to shame me and to drag 285
These hence by force. This city which I hold
Is not to Argives subject: she is free.

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It is time to prepare, ere the Argive array
O'er our marches on-sweepeth;
For Mycenæ's war-spirit more hot for the fray 290
For these tidings upleapeth.
Yea, and after his kind will yon herald be swelling
His wrongs—such aye double a tale in the telling:—
In the ears of his lords, think ye, how will he cry
On the foulness of outrage "that brought him this day
Unto death well-nigh!"

No fairer honour-guerdon may sons win
Than this, to spring from noble sires and good,
And so wed noble wives. Who, passion's thrall,
Links him with base folk, ne'er shall have my praise, 300
Who, for his lust's sake, stamps his seed with shame.
For noble birth stands in the evil day
Better than base blood. We, to deepest depths
Of evil fallen, yet have found us friends
And kin in these: in all the peopled breadth 305
Of Hellas these alone have championed us.
Give, children, unto these the right hand give,
And to the children ye; draw near to them.
Boys, we have put our friends unto the test:—
If home-return shall ever dawn for you, 310
And your sires' halls and honours ye inherit,
Saviours and friends account them evermore,
And never against their land lift hostile spear,
Remembering this, but hold them of all states
Most dear. They are worthy of your reverence, 315
Who have ta'en our burden on them, enmity
​Of that great land, that folk Pelasgian.^[7]
Beggars they saw us, homeless: for all this
They gave not up nor chased us from their land.
And I, in life,—in death, when death shall come, 320
With high laud will extol thee, good my lord,
At Theseus' side; and this shall make him glad,
My tale how thou didst welcome, didst defend
Herakles' sons, how nobly Hellas through
Thou guard'st thy sire's renown: thy father's son 325
Shames not the noble line wherefrom he sprang.
Few such there be: amid a thousand, one
Thou shouldst find undegenerate from his sire.

Ever of old she chooseth, this our land,
To help the helpless ones in justice' cause. 330
Wherefore unnumbered toils for friends she hath borne.
Now see I this new struggle looming nigh.

Well said of thee; and sure am I that these
Shall so prove; unforgot shall be our boon.
Now will I muster for the war my folk, 335
And marshal, that a goodly band may greet
Mycenæ's host. Scouts first will I send forth
To meet it, lest unwares it fall on me;
For swift the Argives throng to the gathering-cry.
Seers will I bring, and sacrifice. Thou, leave 340
Zeus' hearth, and enter with the boys mine halls:
​Therein be they which, though I be afar,
Shall care for thee. Pass, ancient, to mine halls.

I will not leave the altar. Let us sit,
Abiding Athens' triumph, suppliant here. 345
And, when thou hast brought this strife to glorious end,
Then will we enter. Champion-gods have we
Not weaker than the Argive Gods, O king.
Though Hera, bride of Zeus, before them go,
Ours is Athena ; and this tells, say I, 350
For triumph, to have gotten mightier Gods:
For Pallas never shall brook overthrow.

Re-enter Demophon.

My son, why com'st thou with care-clouded eyes?
Tellest thou evil tidings of the foe?
Tarry they?—are they on us?—what hast heard?
No empty promise was yon herald's threat.
Their captain, aye triumphant heretofore, 385
Shall march, I know, with heart uplifted high,
Against our Athens. Notwithstanding Zeus
Chastiseth overweening arrogance.

They are come, the Argive host and king Eurystheus.
Myself beheld them; for behoves the man, 390
Whoso makes claim to know good generalship,
To see—nor that with eyes of scouts—his foes.
But to the plains not yet hath he marched down
His bands, but, couched upon the rocky brow,
Watcheth—I but make guess of that I tell thee— 395
​Where without conflict to push on his host,
And in the land's heart camp him safety-girt.
Yet all my preparations well are laid:
Athens is all in arms, the victims ready
Stand for the Gods to whom they must be slain. 400
By seers the city is filled with sacrifice
For the foes' rout and saving of the state.
All prophecy-chanters have I caused to meet,
Into old public oracles have searched,
And secret, for salvation of this land. 405
And, mid their manifold diversities,
In one thing glares the sense of all the same:—
They bid me to Demeter's Daughter slay
A maiden of a high-born father sprung.
Full am I, as thou seest, of good will 410
To you: yet neither will I slay my child,
Nor force thereto another of my folk:
And of his own will who hath heart so hard
As from his hands to yield a most dear child?
Now gatherings may'st thou see of angry mood, 415
Where some say, right it is to render help
To suppliant strangers, some cry out upon
My folly:—yea, and if I do this thing,
Even this day is civil war afoot.
See thou to this then: help me find a way 420
Whereby yourselves and Athens shall be saved,
And I shall not be of my folk reproached.
For mine is no barbarian despot's sway:
Only for fair deeds win I guerdon fair.

How?—do the Gods forbid that Athens help 425
The stranger, though she yearn with eager will?

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O children, we are like to shipmen, who,
Escaped the madding fury of the storm,
And now in act to grasp the land, have yet
By blasts been driven from shore to sea again. 430
Even so are we from this land thrust away,
When, as men saved, even now we touched the strand.
Ah me, why didst thou cheer me, wretched hope,
Erst, when thy mind was not to crown thy boon?
The king I cannot blame, who will not slay 435
His people's daughters: yea, I am content
With Athens' dealings with us: if it please
Gods that I fare thus, gratitude dies not.
Ah boys, for you I know not what to do!
Whitherward flee?—what Gods rest unimplored? 440
What refuge upon earth have we not sought?
Die shall we, children, yielded up to foes.
I reck not of myself, if I must die,—
Except that o'er my death yon foes shall gloat:
But for you, babes, I weep in utter ruth, 445
And for your sire's grey mother, even Alkmena.
O lady, hapless in thy length of days!
And hapless I, who have greatly toiled in vain!
Doomed were we, doomed into a foeman's hands
To fall, and die in shame and agony! 450
King, help me!—wouldst know how?—not every hope
Of their deliverance hath fled my soul:—
Me to the Argives yield up in their stead.
So be unperilled thou, the lads be saved.
No right have I to love life: let it go! 455
Me would Eurystheus most rejoice to seize,—
Herakles' ally, me,—and evil-entreat;
​For churl he is. Let wise men pray to strive
With wise men, not with graceless arrogance.
So, if one fall, he stoops to a chivalrous foe. 460

O ancient, upon Athens cast not blame!
Haply 'twere false,^[8] yet foul reproach were this
That we abandoned stranger-suppliants.

Noble thine offer: yet it cannot be.
Not craving thee doth this king hither march: 465
For of what profit to Eurystheus were
An old man's death? Nay, these he lusts to slay.
For dangerous to foes are high-born youths
Growing to man, and brooding on sires' wrongs:^[9]
And all this he foresees, he needs must so. 470
If any rede thou knowest more than this
In season, set it forth: I am desperate.
Hearing those oracles, and full of fear.

Enter Makaria from the temple.

Strangers, impute not for my coming forth
Boldness to me; this is my first request; 475
Since for a woman silence and discretion
Be fairest, and still tarrying in the home.
But, Iolaus, I heard thy moans, and came,—
Though I be not ordained mine house's head,
​Yet in some sort it fits me, for I love 480
These brethren more than all: yea, mine own fate
Fain would I learn,—lest to the former ills
Some new pang added may torment thy soul.

Daughter, long since have I had righteous cause
To praise thee chiefliest of Herakles' seed. 485
Our house, that seemed but now to prosper well,
Once more hath fallen into desperate case.
For oracle-chanters, saith this king, proclaim
That he must bid to slay nor bull nor calf,
But a maid, daughter of a high-born sire, 490
If we, if Athens, must not cease to be.
This then is our despair: the king refuseth
To slay his own or any other's child,
And saith to me,—albeit not in words,—
Except we find for this some remedy, 495
We must needs forth and seek another land;
But his own land he cannot choose but save.

On these terms hangeth our deliverance?

On these,—if in all else our fortune speed.

Then dread no more the Argive foemen's spear. 500
Myself—I wait no bidding, ancient—am
Ready to die, and yield me to be slain.
What can we say, if Athens count it meet
To brave a mighty peril for our sake,
​And we to others pass the struggle on, 505
And flee death, when that way deliverance lies?
Never!—a scoffing to us this should be,
To sit and moan on, suppliant to their Gods,
And—born of that sire of whose loins we sprang—
To show us craven! Is this like the brave? 510
Better, forsooth, this town—which God forbid!—
Were ta'en, that into hands of foes I fell,
And suffered—I, from hero-father sprung—
Horrors, and looked on Hades none the less!
Or, banished, shall I wander from this land, 515
And not be utterly shamed, if one should say,
"Wherefore come hither with your suppliant boughs,
O ye that so love life?—hence from our land!
For we to cravens will not render help?"
Nay, and not even if all these were slain 520
And I saved, have I hope of happy days;—
Many, so tempted, have betrayed their friends;—
For who would stoop to take a friendless girl
To wife, or care to raise up seed of me?
Better to die than light on such a doom 525
Unworthy! Haply this might well beseem
Another maid who hath not my renown.
Lead on to where this body needs must die:
Wreathe me, begin the rite, if this seem good.
Vanquish your foes; for ready is this life, 530
Willing, ungrudging. Yea, I pledge me now
For these my brothers' sake, and mine, to die.
For treasure-trove most fair, by loving not
Life, have I found,—with glory to quit life.

What shall I say, who hear this maid's high words 535
​Consenting for her brethren's sake to die?
What man could utter nobler words than these,
Or who do nobler deed henceforth for ever?

O child, thine heart is of none other sire—
Thou art his own seed, of that godlike soul, 540
Herakles, sprung!—No shame, no shame, is mine
For these thy words, but grief for this hard lot.
Yet how 'twere done more justly will I tell:
Hither be all this maiden's sisters called;
Then for her house let whom the lot dooms die: 545
But that thou die without lot is not just.

I will not perish by the lot's doom, I;
For then is no free grace: thou, name it not.
But if ye will accept me, and consent
To take an eager victim, willingly 550
I give my life for these, nowise constrained.

Ah, marvellous one!
Nobler thy latter speech is than thy first.
Perfect was that, but thou o'erpassest now
Courage with courage, word with noble word! 555
Yet, daughter, thee I bid not, nor forbid
To die:—thy brethren dost thou, dying, help.

Thou dost bid—wisely. Fear not thou to take
Guilt-stain of me: but let me die—die free.
​Come with me, ancient: in thine arms to die^[10] 560
I ask. Be near me; veil my corse with robes,
Since to the horror of the knife I pass—
If I be of the sire that I boast mine.

I cannot stand and look upon thy doom.

At least ask thou the king that I may breathe 565
My last breath not in men's but women's hands.

This shall be, hapless among maidens: shame
Were mine to grace thee not with honour meet,
For causes manifold:—for thy great heart,
For justice' sake, and for that thou art brave 570
Above all women that mine eyes have seen.
Wouldst thou say aught to these, or this grey sire,
Speak thy last word, or ever thou depart. [Exit.

Farewell, old sire, farewell, and teach, O teach
These boys to be like thee, in all things wise 575
As thou art—no whit more: that shall suffice.
And strive from death to save them, loyal soul:
Thy children are we, fostered by thine hands.
​Thou seest how my bloom of spousal-tide
I yield up in the stead of these to die. 580
And ye, O band of brethren at my side,
Blessings on you! May all be yours, for which
The cleaving of mine heart shall pay the price.
This old man, and the grey queen therewithin,
Alkmena, my sire's mother, honour ye, 585
And these our hosts. If there be found of heaven
For you release from toils, and home-return,
Remember then your saviour's burial due,—
Fair burial, as is just. I have failed you nought,
Have stood your champion, for mine house have died. 590
My treasure this shall be, for babes unborn,
Spousals foregone;—if in the grave aught be:
But ah that nought might be!—for if there too
We mortals who must die shall yet have cares,
I know not whither one shall turn; since death 595
For sorrows is accounted chiefest balm.

O thou who for high courage hast no peer,
Above all women, know, in life, in death,
Most chiefest honour shalt thou have of us.
Farewell: for awe I dare not curse the Goddess, 600
Demeter's child, to whom thy life is sealed.
[Exit Makaria. Iolaus sinks to the ground.
O boys, we are undone!—faint fail my limbs
For anguish! Take, upbear me to a seat
Hereby, and muffle with these robes, my sons.
For neither can I joy in these deeds done,605
Nor might we live, the oracle unfulfilled.
This is calamity, that were deeper ruin.

​

​Enter Henchman of Hyllus.

Hail, children! Where stay ancient Iolaus 630
And your sire's mother from their session here?

Here am I—such as my poor presence is.

Why dost thou He thus? Why these down-drooped eyes?

A sorrow of this house is come to oppress me.

Yet now upraise thyself: uplift thine head. 635

Old am I, and my strength is utter naught.

But bringing tidings of great joy I come.

Who art thou?—where have I met thee unremembered?

I am Hyllus' vassal. Look, dost know me not?

​

Friend, com'st thou our deliverer from bane? 640

Yea: therewithal thou art fortunate this day.

Alkmena, mother of a hero-son,
Come forth, give ear to these most welcome words;
For travailing long in spirit hast thou fainted
Lest these^[12] which now are come should ne'er return. 645

Enter Alkmena from the temple.

What means this outcry filling all the house?
How, hath a herald from their Argos come
Again to outrage thee? My strength is weakness;
Yet of this thing, O stranger, be assured,
Never, while I live, shalt thou hale these hence. 650
Else be I counted mother never more
Of Herakles! If thou lay hand on these,
With two old foes thou shalt inglorious strive.

Fear not, grey queen, nor quake: no herald he
From Argos cometh bearing hests of foes. 655

Why then didst raise a cry in-ushering fear?

​

That thou before this temple might'st draw nigh.

This was not in my thought:—now who is this?

He bringeth tidings. Thy son's son is here.

Hail also thou for this thine heralding! 660
But wherefore absent, if he hath set foot
In this land?—where?—what hap hath hindered him
From coming with thee to make glad mine heart?

The host he hath brought he camps, and marshals it.

Such matter appertaineth not to me. [Turns to go.] 665

Now nay—though my part be to enquire thereof.

What wouldst thou know concerning things achieved?

How great a host of allies hath he brought?

Many: their tale I cannot tell save thus.

​

All this, I trow, the chiefs Athenian know? 670

They know: yea, on their left he stands arrayed.

Ha, is the host already armed for fight?

Yea, and the victims are brought nigh the ranks.

And distant how far is the Argive spear?

So that thou plainly may'st discern their chief. 675

What doth he?—marshals he the foemen's lines?

So made we guess: not plainly could we hear.
But I must go: I would not that without me,
Through fault of mine, my lords should clash with foes.

And I with thee: my purpose is as thine,— 680
As meet is,—to be there and help my friends.

Nay, nowise worthy thee were idle talk!

​

Unworthy it were to help not friends in fight.

The glance can deal no wound, if hand strike not.

How? Cannot I withal smite through a shield? 685

Smite?—yea, but thou thyself ere then mightst fall.

There is no foe shall dare to meet mine eye.

Thou hast not, good my lord, thine olden strength.

Yet foes by tale not fewer will I fight.

Scant weight into thy friends' scale wilt thou cast. 690

Hinder me not. I am wrought up for the deed.

For deeds no power thou hast;—hast will, perchance.

Talk as thou wilt, so I bide not behind.

​

With mailed men how shalt thou unarmed appear?

There hang within yon fane arms battle-won. 695
These will I use, and, if I live, restore;—
The God will not require them of the slain.
Pass thou within, and from the nails take down,
And bring with speed to me, that warrior-gear.
[Exit Henchman.
Shameful it is—this loitering at home, 700
That some should fight, some, craven souls, hang back!

Art thou beside thyself?—what, meanest thou
To leave me and my children thus forlorn? 710

Yea, men must fight. For these must thou take thought.

But, if thou perish, how shall I be saved?

​

Thy son's sons which are left shall care for thee.

But if—which God forbid—aught hap to them?

Our hosts shall not forsake thee. Fear not thou. 715

Mine heart's last stay!—none other have I left.

Nay, Zeus, I know, remembereth thy griefs.

Ah! (sighs heavily.)
Never of me shall ill be said of Zeus;
But is he just to me-ward?—Himself knows!

Re-enter Henchman.

Lo, here thou seest a warrior's gear complete: 720
Make all speed to encase in these thy frame.
The fight is nigh, and most the War-god loathes
Loiterers. If thou fear the armour's weight,
Go mailless now, and lap thee mid the ranks
In this array: till then will I bear all. 725

Well hast thou said: yet ready to mine hand
​Bring on the arms: set in mine hand a spear:
Bear up my left arm, ordering my steps.

How, lead as a little child the man-at-arms!

For the omen's sake unstumbling must I go. 730

Would thou wert strong to do, as thou art fain!

On!—woe, if I be laggard for the fray!

'Tis thou art slow, not I, who dream'st performance.

Seest thou not how onward speed my limbs?

More thine imagining see I than thy speed. 735

Thou shalt not say so when thou seest me there—

Achieving what?—I fain would see thy triumph!

Smiting some foeman, yea, clear through the shield.

​

If we win ever thither,—this I doubt.

Would, O mine arm, that, as I call to mind 740
Thy young strength, when thou didst with Herakles}
Smite Sparta, such a helper unto me}
Thou wouldst become! Soon would I turn to rout}
Eurystheus—craven he to abide the spear!}
With high estate is this delusion linked, 745}
Repute for courage high: for still we deem}
That he who prospereth knoweth all things well.

Alkmena comes again out of the temple. Enter Servant.

Mistress, I bring thee tidings passing brief
To hear, and passing fair for me to tell. 785
Our foes are smitten: trophies now are reared
Hung with war-harness of our enemies.

​

Dear friend, this day hath wrought thy severance
From bondage, for the tidings thou hast brought.
Yet from one ill not yet thou freest me— 790
Fear touching those I love, if yet they live.

They live, in all the host most high-renowned.

The old man Iolaus—lives he yet?

Yea, and by Heaven's help hath done gloriously.

What is it?—hath he wrought some knightly deed? 795

He from an old man hath become a youth.

Marvels thou speakest: yet I pray thee tell
First how the fight was victory for our friends.

One speech of mine shall set forth all to thee.
When host against host we had ranged the array 800
Of men-at arms far-stretching face to face,
Then from his chariot Hyllus lighted down,
And midway stood between the spearmen-lines,
​And cried, "O captain of the host, who hast come
From Argos, wherefore spare we not this land? 805
Lo, if thou rob Mycenæ of one man,
Nought shalt thou hurt her:—come now, man to man
Fight thou with me: so, slaying, lead away
Herakles' sons; or, falling, leave to me
My father's honour and halls to have and hold." 810
"Yea!" the host shouted, counting this well said
For valour and for rest from battle-toil:
Yet he, unshamed for them that heard the challenge,
And his own cowardice, war-chief though he were,
Dared not draw nigh the essay of valour's spear, 815
But was sheer craven. And this dastard wretch
Came to enslave the sons of Herakles!
So to the ranks again went Hyllus back:
And the priests, knowing now that end of strife
Should not by clash of champion shields be attained. 820
Did sacrifice, nor tarried, but straightway
Spilled from the victims' throats the auspicious blood.^[13]
Then mounted these their cars: their shield-rims those
Before their bodies cast. Then Athens' king
Cried to his host, as high-born chieftain should: 825
"Countrymen, now must each one play the man
​For the land that hath borne and nurtured him!"
The while that other prayed his battle-aid
To brook not shame to Argos and Mycenæ.
But when the Tuscan trumpet gave the sign 830
High-shrilling, and the war-hosts clashed in fight,
How mighty a crash of bucklers thundered then—
Think'st thou?—What multitudinous groan and shriek!
Now first the onset of the Argive spear
Burst through our ranks: then gave they back again. 835
Anon foot stood in grapple locked with foot,
Man fronting man, hard-wrestling in the fray:
Fast, fast they fell. Cheers ever answered cheers—
"Dwellers in Athens!"—"Tillers of the land
Of Argos!"—"from dishonour save your town!" 840
With uttermost endeavour and strong strain
Scarce turned we unto flight the Argive spear.
Thereat old Iolaus, marking where
Hyllus charged on, with outstretched hand besought
That he would set him on a courser-car. 845
Then the reins grasped he, then the steeds he sped
After Eurystheus. All the rest I tell
From others' lips: the former things I saw.
For, as he passed beyond Pallênê's Hill
Sacred to Pallas, spying Eurystheus' car, 850
He prayed to Zeus and Hêbê, for one day
To be made young, and wreak the vengeance due
On foes:—now shalt thou hear a miracle.
For two stars rested on the chariot-yoke,
And into gloom of shadow threw the car; 855
And these, diviners say, were thy great son
And Hêbê:—then from out that murky gloom
He flashed—a youth, with mighty-moulded arms!
And glorious Iolaus overtook
​By the Skironian Rocks Eurystheus' car. 860
He hath bound his hands with gyves, and hath returned
Bringing the crown of victory, that chief
So prosperous once: but by his fate this day
Clear warning to all men he publisheth
To envy not the seeming-fortunate, ere 865
He die, since fortune dureth but a day.

O Victory-wafter Zeus, now is it mine
To see a day from dark fear disenthralled!

Zeus, late on mine affliction hast thou looked;
Yet thank I thee for all that thou hast wrought. 870
Now know I of a surety that my son
Dwelleth with Gods:—ere this I thought not so.
O children, now, yea now from trouble free,
And from Eurystheus, doomed to a dastard's death,
Free shall ye be, shall see your father's city, 875
And tread the lot of your inheritance,
And sacrifice to your fathers' Gods, from whom
Banned ye have known a wretched homeless life.
But for what veiled wise purpose Iolaus
Hath spared Eurystheus, that he slew him not, 880
Tell: for in our sight nothing wise is this
To capture foes, and not requite their wrong.

Of thought for thee, that him thine eyes might see
Held in thy power, and subject to thine hand.
Sore loth was he whom 'neath the yoke he brought 885
Of strong constraint, for nowise he desired
​Living to meet thine eye and taste thy vengeance.
Farewell, grey queen: forget not that which erst
Thou saidst to me when I began my tale.
Make me free man; for, touching suchlike boons, 890
The lips that lie not best beseem the noble. [Exit.

Enter messenger with guards leading Eurystheus in chains.

O queen, thou seest,—yet shall it be told,—
Leading Eurystheus unto thee we come,
A sight unhoped, which ne'er he looked should hap, 930
Who ne'er had thought to fall into thine hands,
When from Mycenæ with vast shield-essay
He marched, his thoughts high-soaring o'er his fate,
To smite our Athens. But our destinies
Fortune reversed, and changed them, his for ours. 935
Hyllus I left and valiant Iolaus
Raising the victory-trophy unto Zeus.
But me they charge to bring this man to thee,
Being fain to glad thine heart: for 'tis most sweet
To see a foe triumphant once brought low. 940

Loathed wretch, art come? Justice at last hath trapped thee!
​Nay then, first turn thou hitherward thine head,
And dare to look thine enemies in the face.
No more art thou the master, but the thrall!
Art thou he—for I would be certified— 945
Who didst presume to load thine outrages,
Caitiff, on my son—whereso now he be?
For wherein didst thou fear to outrage him,
Who didst to Hades speed him living down,
Didst send him, bidding him destroy thee Hydras 950
And lions? All the ills thou didst devise
I name not, for the tale were all too long.
Nor yet sufficed thee this to dare alone;
But from all Hellas me and mine didst thou
Still hunt, though suppliant to the Gods we sat, 955
These stricken in years, those little children yet.
But men, and a free city, hast thou found,
Which feared thee not. Now die the dastard's death.
Yet is thy death all gain: thou ought'st to die
Not one death, who hast wrought ills manifold. 960

It may not be that thou shouldst slay this man!

Captive in vain then have we taken him!
Prithee what law withholdeth him from death?

It pleaseth not the rulers of this land.

How?—do these count it shame to slay their foes? 965

​

Yea, such as they have ta'en in fight unslain.

Ay so?—and this their doom hath Hyllus brooked?

Should he, forsooth, defy this nation's will?

He should no more have lived, nor seen the light.

Then was he wronged—to die not at the first. 970

So then 'twere just he suffered vengeance yet.

None is there, none, would put him now to death.

That will I—some one I account myself.

Thou shalt have bitter blame, if this thou do.

I love this city; let no man gainsay:— 975
But, since this wretch hath come into mine hands,
There is of mortals none shall pluck him thence.
Wherefore who will shall rail on the overbold,
​On her that nursed for woman thoughts too high:
Yet shall this deed by me be brought to pass. 980

A fearful hatred, yet a righteous, queen,
Thou hast against this man, I know full well.

Woman, be sure I will not cringe to thee,
Nor utter any word beside, to save
My life, whence cowardice might stain my name. 985
Yet of my will this feud I took not up.
I knew myself born cousin unto thee,
And kinsman unto Herakles thy son.
But, would I or would not, it was the God:—
Hera with this affliction burdened me. 990
But when I had made him once mine enemy,
And knew that I must wrestle out this strife,
Deviser I became of many pains,
Aye scheming—Night sat by, and counselled me—^[14]
How I might scatter and destroy my foes, 995
And have thenceforth for housemate fear no more,
Knowing thy son no cipher, but a man
In very deed; for, though he be my foe,
Praise shall he have, a very hero he.
But, rid of him, was I not even constrained— 1000
Abhorred of these, ware of that heritage
Of enmity—to move each scorpion-stone,
By slaying, banishing, and plotting still?
While this I did, my safety was assured.
But thou, forsooth, had but my lot been thine, 1005
Hadst spared to persecute the infuriate whelps
​Left of thy foe the lion,—wisely rather
Hadst let them dwell in Argos?—I trow not.
Now therefore since, when I was fain to die,
They slew me not, by all the Hellene laws 1010
My death pollution brings on whoso slays.
Wisely did Athens spare me, honouring more
God, far above all enmity of me.
Thou art answered. I must be hereafter named
The Haunting Vengeance, and the Heroic Dead. 1015
Thus is it with me—I long not for death,
Yet to forsake life nowise shall I grieve.

Suffer one word of exhortation, queen.
Let this man go; for so the city wills.

But—if he die, and I obey her still? 1020

This should be best: yet how can this thing be?

This will I lightly teach thee:—I will slay,
Then yield him dead to friends that come for him.
Touching his corpse I will not cheat the state;
But die he shall, and do me right for wrong. 1025

Slay: I ask not thy grace. But I bestow
On Athens, who hath spared, who shamed to slay me,
An ancient oracle of Loxias,
Which in far days shall bless her more than seems.
Me shall ye bury where 'tis fate-ordained, 1030
Before the Virgin's shrine Pallenian;
​So I, thy friend and Athens' saviour aye,
A sojourner shall lie beneath your soil,
But to these and their children sternest foe
What time they march with war-hosts hitherward, 1305
Traitors to this your kindness:—such the guests
Ye championed! Wherefore then, if this I knew,
Came I, and feared not the God's oracles?
Hera, methought, than these was mightier far,
And would not so forsake me. Shed not ye 1040
Drink-offerings nor blood upon my tomb.
For evil home-return will I give these
For this. Of me shall ye have double gain,—
My death shall be your blessing and their curse.

Why linger then—if so ye must achieve 1045
Your city's safety and your children's weal,—
To slay this man, who hear this prophecy?
Himself the path of perfect safety points.
Your foe he is, yet is his death your gain.
Hence with him, thralls. When ye have slain him, then 1050
To dogs ye ought to cast him!^[15] Hope not thou
To live, and drive me again from fatherland.