The Children of Hercules.
PERSONS OF THE DRAMA.
Iolaus.
Copreus.
Chorus of Athenian Old Men.
Demophoon.
Macaria.
Alcmena.
Messenger.
Eurystheus.
SCENE.—Before the Altar of Jupiter, in the Forum at Marathon, a City in the Athenian Dominions.
Iolaus. Long have I held this sentiment: the just Are born the streams of bounty to diffuse On all around them; while the man whose soul Is warped by interest, useless in the State, Untractable and harsh to every friend, Lives only for himself; in words alone This doctrine I imbibed not. Through a sense Of virtuous shame and reverence for my kindred When I in peace at Argos might have dwelt, I singly shared the toils of Hercules, While he on earth remained; but now he dwells In heaven, I guard his children, though protection Be what I need myself. For when their sire Forsook this nether world, Eurystheus strove Immediately to slay us; but I ’scaped From that oppressor’s fangs, and though to me Lost is my country, I have saved my life. But we poor vagabonds, from city fly To some fresh city, ever forced to change Our dwelling; for Eurystheus deems it meet To add this wrong to former wrongs, he sends His heralds wheresoe’er he hears we settle, And claims and drives us forth from every land; No slight resentment from the Argive realm Against our friends denouncing, he reminds them Of his own prosperous fortunes; when they see My weakness, and these little ones bereft Of their great father, to superior might They crouch, and force the suppliant to depart. But with the exiled race of Hercules A voluntary exile, I partake Their evil fortunes, steadfastly resolved Not to betray them; by malignant tongues It never shall be said, “Oh, mark these orphans! Since their sire’s death their kinsman Iolaus Protects them not.” But, exiled from all Greece, On reaching Marathon and the domain Subject to the same rulers, here we sit Before the altars of the gods, and sue For their assistance. In this region dwell Two sons of Theseus, I am told, by lot Who portion out this realm, they from Pandion Descend, and to these children are allied. We therefore undertook our present journey To the Athenian realm; two aged guides Conduct the hapless wanderers; my attention Is to the boys devoted; but Alcmena, Entering the adjacent temple, in her arms Tenderly clasps the female progeny Of her departed son. Amid the crowd We fear to introduce these tender virgins, Or place them at the altars of the gods. But Hyllus and his brothers, more mature In years, inquire in what far distant land A fortress for our future residence We yet can find, if we from these domains By force should be expelled. My sons, come hither, Cling to this garment; for to us I see Eurystheus’ herald coming, by whose hate, We wanderers, banished from each friendly realm, Are still pursued. Thou, execrable miscreant, Perish thyself, and perish he who sent thee: For to the noble father of these children Oft hath that tongue enjoined severest toils. Copreus, Iolaus. Cop. What, think’st thou unmolested to enjoy This pleasant seat, and have thy vagrant steps Entered at length a city prompt to fight Thy battles? for the man who will prefer Thy feeble arm to that of great Eurystheus, Exists not. Hence! why in these useless toils Dost thou persist? thou must return to Argos Where they have doomed thee to be stoned. Iol. Not thus: For in this altar shall I find protection, And this free country on whose soil we tread. Cop. Wilt thou constrain me then to have recourse To violence? Iol. With forceful hand, nor me Nor these poor children shalt thou hence expel. Cop. Ere long shalt thou perceive that thou hast uttered Erroneous prophesies. Iol. This ne’er shall be Long as I live. Cop. Depart, for I will seize them ’Gainst thy consent, and to Eurystheus’ power Surrender up, for they to him belong. Iol. Aid me, ye ancient citizens of Athens, For we, though suppliants, forcibly are torn E’en from Jove’s public altar, and the wreaths Twined round our sacred branches are polluted; Shame to your city, insult to the gods. Chorus, Iolaus, Copreus. Chor. What clamorous voices from yon altars rise? What mischiefs are impending? Iol. See a man Burdened with age, wretch that I am! lie prostrate. Chor. Who threw thee down? what execrable hand—— Iol. ’Tis he, O stranger, he who to your gods Yielding no reverence, strives with impious force E’en now, to drag me from this hallowed seat Before Jove’s altar. Chor. He! But from what land Cam’st thou, old man, to this confederate state Formed of four cities? From the distant coast Of steep Eubœa did ye ply your oars? Iol. The life I lead, O stranger, is not that Of vagrant islanders; but in your realm From famed Mycene’s bulwarks I arrive. Chor. Among thy countrymen, old man, what name Thou bear’st, inform me. Iol. Ye perchance knew somewhat Of Iolaus, great Alcides’ comrade, A name not quite unnoticed by renown. Chor. I formerly have heard of him: but say Who is the father of that infant race, Whom with thy arm thou guid’st? Iol. These are the sons Of Hercules, O strangers, they, to you, And to your city, humble suppliants come. Chor. On what account, inform me; to demand An audience of the state? Iol. That to their foes They may not be surrendered up, nor torn Forcibly from the altars of your gods, And carried back to Argos. Cop. But thy lords Who bear rule over thee, and hither trace Thy steps, will ne’er be satisfied with this. Chor. O stranger, ’tis our duty to revere The suppliants of the gods: with forceful hand Shall no man drag thee from this holy spot, This seat of the immortal powers; dread justice Shall guard thee from the wrong. Cop. Out of your land The vagrant subjects of Eurystheus drive, As I admonish; and this hand shall use No violence. Chor. How impious is that city Which disregards the helpless stranger’s prayer! Cop. ’Twere best to interfere not in these broils, And to adopt some more expedient counsels. Chor. You, therefore, to the monarch of this realm Should have declared your errand, ere thus far You had proceeded: but with brutal force These strangers from the altars of the gods Presume not to convey, and to this land Of freedom yield due reverence. Cop. But what king Rules this domain and city? Chor. Theseus’ son, Renowned Demophoon. Cop. Better I with him This contest could decide: for all I yet Have spoken, is but a mere waste of words. Chor. Behold, he hither comes in haste, and with him, To hear this cause, his brother Acamas. Demophoon, Iolaus, Copreus, Chorus. Dem. Since by thy speed, old man, thou hast outstripped Thy juniors, and already reached the shrine Of Jove, inform me what event hath caused This multitude t’ assemble. Chor. There the sons Of Hercules in suppliant posture sit, And with their wreaths, as you behold, O king, Adorn the altar; that is Iolaus, The faithful comrade of their valiant sire. Dem. How needed their distress these clamorous shrieks? Chor. [turning towards Copreus.] He raised the uproar, when by force he strove To bear them hence, and on his knees, to earth Threw the old man, till I for pity wept. Dem. Although he in the habit which he wears Adopts the mode of Greece, such deeds as these Speak the barbarian. But without delay On thee it is incumbent now to tell me The country whence thou cam’st. Cop. I am an Argive; Thus far to solve your question: but from whence I come, and on what errand, will I add; Mycene’s king, Eurystheus, sends me hither To fetch these vagrants home: yet I, O stranger, Will with abundant justice, in my actions, As well as words, proceed; myself an Argive, I bear away these Argives, I but seize The fugitives who from my native land Escaped, when by the laws which there prevail They were ordained to bleed. We have a right, Because we are the rulers of the city, To execute the sentence we enact ’Gainst our own subjects. To the sacred hearths Of many other states when they repaired, We urged the self-same reasons, and none ventured To be the authors of their own destruction. But haply they in you may have perceived A foolish tenderness, and hither come, Desperate themselves, you also to involve In the same perils, whether they succeed Or fail in the emprise: for they no hope Can cherish, while you yet retain your reason, That you alone, in all the wide extent Of Greece, whose various regions they have traversed, Should pity those calamities which rise But from their own imprudence. Now compare Th’ alternative proposed; by sheltering them In these dominions, or allowing us To bear them hence, what gain may you expect? Side but with us, these benefits are yours: Eurystheus’ self, and Argos’ numerous troops, Will aid this city with their utmost might; But if, by their seducing language moved, Ye harbour groundless pity for their woes, Arms must decide the strife. Nor vainly think We will desist till we have fully tried The temper of our swords. But what excuse Have ye to plead? Of what domains bereft Are ye provoked to wage a desperate war With the Tirynthian Argives? What allies Will aid you? What pretext can ye allege To claim funereal honours for the slain? The curses of your city will await Such conduct; for the sake of that old man, Whom I may justly call a tomb, a shadow, And those unfriended children, should you step Into the yawning gulf. Suppose the best Which possibly can happen, that a prospect Of future good hence rises; distant hopes Fall short of present gain. In riper years Ill can these youths be qualified to fight Against the Argive host (if this elate Your soul with hope), and ere that wished event There is a length of intermediate time In which ye may be ruined; but comply With my advice; on me no gift bestow, Let me but take what to ourselves belongs, Mycene shall be yours. But oh, forbear To act as ye are wont, nor form a league With those of no account, when mightier friends May be procured. Dem. Who can decide a cause Or ascertain its merits till he hear Both sides distinctly? Iol. In your land, O king, This great advantage, freedom of reply To the malignant charge against me urged, I find, and no man, as from other cities, Shall drive me hence. But we have nothing left For which it now behoves us to contend With him, nor aught, since that decree hath passed, To do with Argos; from our native land We are cast forth. In this distressful state, How can he drag us back again with justice As subjects of Mycene, to that realm Which hath already banished us? We there Are only foreigners. But why should he Whom Argos dooms to exile, by all Greece Be also exiled? Not by Athens sure; For ne’er will Athens from its blest domains Expel the race of Hercules, appalled By Argos’ menaced wrath. For neither Trachis, Nor is that city of Achaia here, Whence thou by boasting of the might of Argos In words like those which thou hast uttered now, These suppliants didst unjustly drive away Though seated at the altars. If thy threats Here too prevail, no longer shall we find Freedom, not e’en in Athens; but I know Full well the generous temper of its sons, And rather would they die. For to the brave Shame is a load which renders life most hateful. Enough of Athens—for immoderate praise Becomes invidious; I remember too How oft I have been heretofore distressed By overstrained encomiums. But on you How greatly ’tis incumbent to protect These children will I show, since o’er this land You rule; for Pittheus was the son of Pelops, From Pittheus Æthra sprung, from Æthra Theseus Your father; from your ancestors to those Of your unhappy suppliants I proceed; Alcides was the son of thundering Jove And of Alcmena; from Lysidice, Daughter of Pelops, did Alcmena spring, One common grandsire gave your grandame birth, And theirs; so near in blood are you to them; But, O Demophoon, what beyond the ties Of family you to these children owe Will I inform you, and relate how erst With Theseus in one bark I sailed, and bore Their father’s shield, when we that belt, the cause Of dreadful slaughter, sought; and from the caves Of Pluto, Hercules led back your sire. This truth all Greece attests. They in return From you implore this boon, that to their foes They may not be surrendered up, nor torn By force from these your tutelary gods, And banished from this realm. For to yourself ’Twere infamous and baneful to your city Should suppliants, exiles, sprung from ancestors The same with yours (ah, miserable me! Behold, behold them!) with a forceful arm Be dragged away. But to your hands, and beard, Lifting these hallowed branches, I entreat you Slight not Alcides’ children, undertake Their cause; and, oh, to them become a kinsman, Become a friend, a father, brother, lord, For better were it to admit these claims, Than suffer them to fall beneath the rage Of Argive tyrants. Chor. I with pity heard Their woes, O king, but now I clearly see How noble birth to adverse fortune yields; For though they spring from an illustrious sire, Yet meet they with afflictions they deserve not. Dem. Three powerful motives urge me, while I view The misery which attends you, not to spurn These strangers; first dread Jove, before whose altars You with these children sit; next kindred ties, And services performed in ancient days, Give them a claim to such relief from me As from their godlike father mine obtained; And last of all that infamy which most I ought to loathe; for if I should permit A foreigner this altar to despoil, I in a land of freedom shall no longer Appear to dwell, but to surrender up, Through fear, the suppliants to their Argive lords, In this extreme of danger. Would to heaven You had arrived with happier auspices; But tremble not lest any brutal hand Should from this hallowed altar force away You and the children. Therefore go thou back To Argos, and this message to Eurystheus Deliver; tell him too if there be aught Which ’gainst our guests he can allege, the laws Are open; but thou shalt not drag them hence. Cop. Not if I prove that it is just, and bring Prevailing reasons? Dem. How can it be just To drive away the suppliant? Cop. Hence no shame Shall light on me, but ruin on your head. Dem. Should I permit thee to convey them hence In me ’twere base indeed. Cop. Let them be banished From your domains, and I elsewhere will seize them. Dem. Thou fool, who deem’st thyself more wise than Jove! Cop. All villains may, it seems, take refuge here. Dem. This altar of the gods, to all affords A sure asylum. Cop. In a different light, This to Mycene’s rulers will appear. Dem. Am not I then the monarch of this realm? Cop. Offer no wrong to them, if you are wise. Dem. Do ye then suffer wrong when I refuse To violate the temples of the gods? Cop. I would not have you enter on a war Against the Argives. Dem. Equally inclined Am I to peace, yet will not I yield up These suppliants. Cop. Hence am I resolved to drag Those who belong to me. Dem. Thou then to Argos Shalt not with ease return. Cop. Soon will I make Th’ experiment and know. Dem. If thou presume To touch them, thou immediately shalt rue it. Cop. I by the gods conjure you not to strike A herald. Dem. Strike I will, unless that herald Learn to behave discreetly. Chor. Go. And you, O king, forbear to touch him. Cop. I retire: For weak in combat is a single arm. But I again shall hither come, and bring A host of Argives armed with brazen spears: Unnumbered warriors wait for my return. The king himself, Eurystheus, is their chief; He on the borders of Alcathous’ realm Waits for an answer. He in glittering mail, Soon as he hears your arrogant reply, To you, your subjects, this devoted realm, And all its wasted forests will appear, For we in vain at Argos should possess A band so numerous of heroic youths, If we chastised not your assuming pride. [Exit Copreus. Dem. Away, detested miscreant; for I fear not Thy Argos: and thou ne’er, by dragging hence These suppliants, shalt disgrace me: for this city As an appendage to the Argive realm I hold not, but its freedom will maintain. Chor. ’Tis time each sage precaution to exert, Ere to the confines of this land advance The troops of Argos: for Mycene’s wrath Is terrible in combat, and more fierce Than heretofore will they invade us now. For to exaggerate facts beyond the truth Is every herald’s custom. To his king, How many specious tales do you suppose Of the atrocious insults he endured, He will relate, and add how he the loss Of life endangered? Iol. To the sons devolve No honours which exceed the being born Of an illustrious and heroic sire, And wedding into virtuous families. But on that man no praise will I bestow, Who by his lusts impelled, among the wicked A nuptial union forms; hence to his sons Disgrace, instead of pleasure, he bequeaths. For noble birth repels adversity Better than abject parentage. When sinking Under the utmost pressure of our woes, We find these friends and kinsmen, who alone Amid the populous extent of Greece Stand forth in our behalf. Ye generous youths, Now give them your right hands, and in return Take those of your protectors: O my sons, Draw near: we have made trial of our friends. If ye again behold your native walls, Possess the self-same mansions, and the honours Which your illustrious father erst enjoyed; These deem your saviours and your friends, nor wield Against their fostering land the hostile spear. On your remembrance let these benefits Be ever stamped, and hold this city dear; For they deserve your reverence, who from us Repel so great a nation, such a swarm Of fierce Pelasgian troops: and, though they see Our poverty and exile, have refused To yield us up, or banish from their realm. Both while I live, and after the cold grave Receives me at the destined hour, my friend, I with loud voice your merits will applaud, Approaching mighty Theseus, and my words Shall soothe your father’s ear when I recount With what humanity you have received us, And how protected the defenceless sons Of Hercules: by your illustrious birth Distinguished, you the glories of your sire Through Greece maintain: sprung from a noble lineage Yet are you one among that chosen few Who in no instance deviate from the virtues Of your great ancestry: although ’mid thousands Scarce is a single instance to be found Of those who emulate their father’s worth. Chor. This country, in a just and honest cause, Is ever prompt to succour the distressed. Hence in its friends’ behalf hath it sustained Unnumbered toils, and now another conflict I see impending. Dem. Rightly hast thou spoken, And in such toils I feel a conscious pride. These benefits shall never be forgotten; But an assembly of the citizens I instantly will summon, and arrange A numerous squadron, to receive the onset Of fierce Mycene’s host, first sending spies To meet them, lest they unawares assail us. For the bold warrior, who without delay Goes forth to battle, keeps the foe aloof. I also will collect the seers, and slay The victims; but do you, old man, meanwhile Enter the palace with these children, leaving Jove’s altar: for my menial train are there, Who will with fond solicitude attend you, Although I am not present: but go in. Iol. I will not leave the altar; on this seat We supplicants will remain, and pray to Jove, That prosperous fortunes may attend your city. But when you from this conflict are with glory Released, we to your palace will repair; Nor are the gods, who war on our behalf, O king, inferior to the gods of Argos. For o’er that city, Jove’s majestic consort, Juno, but here Minerva doth preside. This I maintain, that nought ensures success Beyond the aid of mightier deities, Nor will imperial Pallas be subdued. [Exit Demophoon. Chorus.
ODE.
I. Boast as thou wilt, and urge thy proud demand, This nation disregards thy ire, Thou stranger from the Argive land. Nor can thy sounding words control The steadfast purpose of my soul: Great Athens, by her lovely choir Distinguished, shall unstained preserve Her ancient glory, nor from virtue swerve; But thou, devoid of wisdom, dost obey The son of Sthenelus, the tyrant’s impious sway, II. Who com’st amidst an independent state, In nought inferior to the strength Of Argos, and with brutal hate Dar’st, though a foreigner, to seize The exiles, who our deities Implore, and in these realms at length From their distress obtain a shield: Thou e’en to sceptred monarchs will not yield, Yet no just plea thy subtle tongue hath found. How can such conduct warp the man whose judgment’s sound? III. Peace is the object of my dear delight: But thou, O tyrant, thou whose breast Well may I deem by frenzy is possest, If ’gainst this city thou exert thy might, Pant’st after trophies which thou ne’er shalt gain. Bearing targe and brazen lance Others with equal arms advance. O thou, who fondly seek’st th’ embattled plain, Shake not these turrets, spare the haunt Of every gentle grace.—Thou wretch, avaunt. Demophoon, Iolaus, Chorus. Iol. Why com’st thou hither, O my son, with eyes Expressive of affliction? from the foe What recent information canst thou give? Do they delay their march, are they at hand, Or bring’st thou any tidings? for the threats That herald uttered sure will be accomplished. Blest in the favour of the gods, the tyrant Exults, I know, and arrogantly deems That he o’er Athens shall prevail; but Jove Chastises the presumptuous.
Dem. Argos comes With numerous squadrons, and its king Eurystheus, Myself beheld him. It behoves the man Who claims the merit of an able chief, Not to depend upon his spies alone To mark the foe’s approach. But with his host He hath not yet invaded these domains, But halting on yon mountain’s topmost ridge Observes (I from conjecture speak) the road By which he may lead forth his troops to battle, And where he in this realm with greatest safety May station them. Already have I made Each preparation to repel their onset. The city is in arms, the victims stand Before the altars, with their blood t’ appease The wrath of every god, and due lustrations Are sprinkled by the seers, that o’er our foes We may obtain a triumph, and preserve This country. Every prophet who expounds The oracles, convening, have I searched Into each sage response of ancient times, Or public or concealed, on which depends The welfare of the realm. In all beside Differ Heaven’s mandates: but one dread behest Runs through the several auspices, to Ceres They bid me sacrifice some blooming maid Who from a nobler sire derives her birth. Zeal have I shown abundant in your cause, But will not slay my daughter, nor constrain Any Athenian citizen to make Such an abhorred oblation: for the man Exists not, who is so devoid of reason, As willingly to yield his children up With his own hands. But what afflicts me most Is this: tumultuous crowds appear; some cry, ’Tis just that we the foreign suppliants aid, But others blame my folly. If no means Can be devised to satisfy them all, Soon will a storm of civil war arise. See thou to this, and think of some expedient, How ye and how this country may be saved, Without the citizens’ calumnious tongues My fame assailing. For I rule not here With boundless power, like a barbarian king; Let but my deeds be just, and in return Shall I experience justice. Chor. Will not Jove Suffer this city to exert its courage, And aid these hapless strangers as we wish? Iol. Our situation, O my sons, resembles That of the mariners, who having ’scaped The storm’s relentless fury, when in sight Of land, are from the coast by adverse winds Driven back into the deep. Thus from this realm Just as we reach the shore, like shipwrecked men, Are we expelled. O inauspicious Hope, Why didst thou soothe me with ideal joy, Although it was ordained that thou should’st leave Thy favours incomplete? The king deserves At least to be excused, if he consent not To slay his subjects’ daughters; to this city My praise is due, and if the gods would place me In the same prosperous fortunes, from my soul Your benefits should never be effaced. But now, alas! no counsel can I give To you, my children. Whither shall we turn? What god have we neglected? To what land Have we not fled for shelter? We must perish, We shall be yielded up. My being doomed To die, I heed but for this cause alone, That by my death I shall afford delight To our perfidious foes. But, O my sons. For you I weep, I pity you, I pity Alcmena, aged mother of your sire, Oh, most unhappy in a life too long! I too am wretched, who unnumbered toils Have fruitlessly endured; it was ordained, It was ordained, alas! that we should fall Into the hands of our relentless foes, And meet a shameful, miserable death. Know you, what still remains for you to do, On my behalf? For all my hopes of saving The children are not vanished. In their stead Me to the Argive host surrender up, O king, and rush not into needless danger, Yet save these children. To retain a love Of life becomes me not; I yield it up Without regret. It is Eurystheus’ wish The rather to seize me, and to expose To infamy, because I was the comrade Of Hercules; for frenzy hath possessed His soul. The wise man, e’en in those he hates, Had rather find discretion than a want Of understanding; for a foe endued With sense will pay due reverence to the vanquished. Chor. Forbear, old man, thus hastily to blame This city; for to us though it might prove More advantageous, yet to our disgrace Would it redound, should we betray our guests. Dem. A generous, but impracticable, scheme Is that thou hast proposed: for Argos’ king In quest of thee no squadrons hither leads. What profit to Eurystheus from the death Of one so old as thou art could arise? He wants to murder these: for to their foes The rising blossoms of a noble race, To whom the memory of their father’s wrongs Is present, must be dreadful: for all this He cannot but foresee. But if thou know Of any other counsel more expedient, Adopt it; for my soul hath been perplexed, Since that oracular response I heard Which fills me with unwelcome apprehensions. [Exit Demophoon. Macaria, Iolaus, Chorus. Mac. Deem not that I, O strangers, am too bold Because I from my chamber venture forth; This is my first request: for silence, joined With modesty and a domestic life, Is woman’s best accomplishment. I heard Your groans, O Iolaus, and advanced Though not appointed by our house to act As their ambassadress; in some degree Yet am I qualified for such an office, I have so great an interest in the weal Of these my brothers; on my own account I also wish to hear if any ill, Added to those you have already suffered, Torture your soul. Iol. Not now for the first time, On thee, O daughter, most of all the children Of Hercules my praise can I bestow: But our ill-fated house, just as it seemed Emerging from its past disgraces, sinks Afresh into inextricable ruin. The king informs us, that the seers, whose voice Expounds the will of heaven, have signified No bull nor heifer, but some blooming maid Who from a noble sire derives her birth, Must be the victim, if we would redeem The city and ourselves from utter ruin; Here then are we perplexed: for his own children He says he will not sacrifice, nor those Of any of his subjects. Though to me Indeed he speaks not plainly, in some sort He intimates, that if we by no means Can extricate ourselves from these distresses, We must find out some other land to flee to, For he this realm would from destruction save. Mac. May we indulge the hope of our escape Upon these terms? Iol. These only: in all else With prosperous fortunes crowned. Mac. No longer dread The spear of Argos, for myself, old man, Am ready, ere they doom me to be slain, And here stand forth a voluntary victim. For what could we allege on our behalf, If Athens condescend to undergo Dangers so great, while we who have imposed These toils on others, though within our reach Lie all the means of being saved, yet shrink From death? Not thus: we should provoke the laugh Of universal scorn, if, with loud groans, We suppliants, at the altars of the gods, Should take our seats, and prove devoid of courage, From that illustrious father though we spring. How can the virtuous reconcile such conduct? This to our glory would forsooth redound (O may it never happen!) when this city Is taken, should we fall into the hands Of our triumphant foes, when after all Some noble maid reluctant must be dragged To Pluto’s loathed embrace. But from these realms Cast forth, should I become an abject vagrant, Must I not blush when any one inquires, “Why came ye hither with your suppliant branches Too fond of life? Retreat from these domains, For we no aid to cowards will afford.” But if when these are dead, my single life Be saved, I cannot entertain a hope That I shall e’er be happy: through this motive Have caused full many to betray their friends. For who with a deserted maid will join, Or in the bonds of wedlock, or desire That I to him a race of sons should bear? I therefore hold it better far to die, Than to endure, without deserving them, Such foul indignities, as can seem light To her alone, who, from a noble race Like mine, descends not: to the scene of death Conduct, with garlands crown me, and prepare If ye think fit, th’ initiatory rites; Ye hence the foe shall conquer: for this soul Shrinks not with mean reluctance. I engage For these my brothers, and myself, to bleed A willing victim; for with ease detached From life, I have imbibed this best of lessons, To die with firmness in a glorious cause. Chor. Alas! what language shall I find, t’ express My admiration of the lofty speech I from this virgin hear, who for her brothers Resolves to die? What tongue can utter words More truly generous; or what man surpass Such deeds as these? Iol. Thou art no spurious child, But from the godlike seed of Hercules, O daughter, dost indeed derive thy birth. Although thy words are such as cannot shame, Thy fate afflicts me. Yet will I propose What may with greater justice be performed. Together call the sisters of this maid, And to atone for the whole race, let her On whom th’ impartial lot shall fall, be slain; But without such decision ’tis not just That thou should’st die. Mac. I will not die as chance The lot dispenses; for I hence should forfeit All merit: name not such a scheme, old man. If me ye will accept, and of my zeal Avail yourselves, I gladly yield up life Upon these terms, but stoop not to constraint. Iol. The speech thou now hast uttered soars beyond What thou at first didst say, though that was noble: But thou thy former courage dost surpass By this fresh instance of exalted courage, The merit of thy former words, by words More meritorious. Daughter, I command not, Nor yet oppose thy death: for thou by dying Wilt serve thy brothers. Mac. You in cautious terms Command me: fear not, lest on my account You should contract pollution: for to die Is my free choice. But follow me, old man, For in your arms would I expire: attend, And o’er my body cast the decent veil: To dreadful slaughter dauntless I go forth, Because I from that father spring, whose name With pride I utter. Iol. At the hour of death I cannot stand beside thee. Mac. Grant but this, That when I breathe my last, I may be tended By women, not by men. Iol. It shall be thus, O miserable virgin: for in me ’Twere base, if I neglected any rite That decency enjoins, for many reasons; Because thy soul is great, because ’tis just, And of all women I have ever seen, Because thou art most wretched. But from these And from thy aged kinsman, if thou wish For aught, to me thy last behests address. Mac. Adieu, my venerable friend, adieu! Instruct these boys in every branch of wisdom, And make them like yourself, they can attain No higher pitch; strive to protect them still, And for their sake that valued life prolong; Your children we, to you our nurture owe. Me you behold, mature for bridal joys, Dying to save them. But may ye, my band Of brothers who are here, be blest, and gain All those advantages, which to procure For you, the falchion shall transpierce my breast. Revere this good old man, revere Alcmena Your father’s aged mother, and these strangers. Should ye be ever rescued from your woes, Should gracious Heaven permit you to revisit Your native land, forget not to inter, With such magnificence as I deserve, Your benefactress, for I have not proved Deficient in attention to your welfare, But die to save our family. To me These monumental honours shall suffice Instead of children, or the virgin state, If there be aught amid the realms beneath, But ’tis my wish there may not: for if grief On us frail mortals also there attend, I know not whither any one can turn: For by the wise hath death been ever deemed The most effectual cure for every ill. Iol. O thou, distinguished by thy lofty soul, Be well assured thy glory shall outshine That of all other women; both in life And death, shalt thou be honoured by thy friends. But ah, farewell! for with ill-omened words I tremble lest we should provoke the goddess, Dread Proserpine, to whom thou now art sacred. [Exit Macaria. My sons I perish: grief unnerves my frame; Support and place me in the hallowed seat: And, O my dearest children, o’er my face Extend this garment: for I am not pleased With what is done: yet, had not Heaven’s response Found this completion, we must all have died; For we must then have suffered greater ills Than these, which are already most severe. Chorus.
ODE. In just proportion, as the gods ordain, Is bliss diffused through life’s short span, Or sorrow portioned out to man: No favoured house can still maintain From age to age its prosperous state, For swift are the vicissitudes of fate, Who now assails pride’s towering crest, Now makes the drooping exile blest. From destiny we cannot fly; No wisdom can her shafts repel; But he who vainly dares her power defy Compassed with endless toils shall dwell. Ask not from Heaven with impious prayer, Blessings it cannot grant to man, Nor waste in misery life’s short span O’erwhelmed by querulous despair. The nymph goes forth to meet a noble death, Her brothers and this land to save, And fame, with tributary breath Shall sound her praises in the grave. For dauntless virtue finds a way Through labours which her progress would delay. Such deeds as these, her father grace, And add fresh splendour to her race, But if with reverential awe thou shed Over the virtuous dead A tear of pity, in that tear I’ll join, Inspired with sentiments like thine. Servant, Iolaus, Chorus. Ser. Ye children, hail! but where is Iolaus, That aged man; and hath your grandame left Her seat before the altar? Iol. Here am I, If aught my presence can avail. Ser. On earth Why art thou stretched, what means that downcast look? Iol. Domestic cares have harrowed up my soul. Ser. Lift up thy head, arise. Iol. I am grown old, And all my strength is vanished. Ser. But to thee I bring most joyful tidings. Iol. Who art thou? Where have I seen thee? I remember not. Ser. Hyllus’ attendant, canst thou not distinguish These features? Iol. O my friend, art thou arrived To snatch me from despair? Ser. Most certainly: Moreover the intelligence I bring Will make thee happy. Iol. Thee I call, come forth, Alcmena, mother of a noble son, And listen to these acceptable tidings: Full long thy soul, for those who now approach, Was torn with grief, lest they should ne’er return. Alcmena, Servant, Iolaus, Chorus. Alc. Whence with your voice resounds this echoing dome, O Iolaus, is another herald From Argos come, who forcibly assails you? My strength indeed is small, yet be assured Of this, presumptuous stranger, while I live Thou shalt not bear them hence. May I no more Be deemed the mother of that godlike son, When I submit to this. But if thou dare To touch the children, with two aged foes Ignobly wilt thou strive. Iol. Be of good cheer, Thou hoary matron, banish these alarms; No herald with a hostile message comes From Argos. Alc. Why then raised you that loud voice, The harbinger of fear? Iol. That from the temple Thou might’st come forth, and join us. Alc. What you mean I comprehend not. Who is this? Iol. He tells us Thy grandson marches hither. Alc. Hail, O thou Who bear’st these welcome tidings? but what brings him To these domains? Where is he? What affairs Prevented him from coming hither with thee, To fill my soul with transport? Ser. He now marshals The forces which attend him. Alc. In this conference Am I no longer then allowed to join? Iol. Thou art: but ’tis my business to inquire Into these matters. Ser. Which of his transactions Say art thou most solicitous to know? Iol. The number of the troops he leads? Ser. Is great, I cannot count them. Iol. The Athenian chiefs Are sure apprized of this. Ser. They are apprized, And the left wing is formed. Iol. Then the whole host Arrayed in arms is ready for the battle. Ser. The victims to a distance from the ranks Already are removed. Iol. But at what distance Is the encampment of the Argive warriors? Ser. So near that we their leader can distinguish. Iol. What is he doing; marshalling our foes? Ser. This we conjecture: for I could not hear His voice: but I must go; for I my lord Will not abandon when he nobly braves The dangers of the field. Iol. I too with thee Will join him; for the same are our intentions, As honour bids us, to assist our friends. Ser. Unwisely hast thou spoken. Iol. With my friends Shall not I then the stubborn conflict share? Ser. That strength which erst was thine is now no more. Iol. Can I not pierce their shields? Ser. Thou may’st: but first, More likely, fall thyself. Iol. No foe will dare To meet me face to face. Ser. By thy mere looks, With that debilitated arm, no wound Canst thou inflict. Iol. My presence in the field Will to our troops give courage, and augment Their number. Ser. Of small service to thy friends Will thy appearance prove. Iol. Detain me not: I for some glorious action am prepared. Ser. Thou hast the will to act, but not the power. Iol. I will not be reproached for loitering here, Say what thou wilt beside. Ser. But without arms How wilt thou face yon warriors sheathed in mail? Iol. The various implements of war are lodged Beneath these roofs; with freedom will I use, And if I live, return them; if I die, The god will not demand them back again. Go then into the temple, and reach down Those martial trappings from the golden nails On which they hang, and bring them to me swiftly. For this were infamous, while some are fighting, If others loiter slothfully behind. [Exit Servant. Chor. Time hath not yet debased that lofty soul ’Tis vigorous, though thy body be decayed. Why should’st thou enter on these fruitless toils, Which only injure thee, and to our city Can be of little service? on thy age Should’st thou reflect, and lay aside attempts That are impossible, for by no arts The long-lost force of youth canst thou regain. Alc. What schemes are these? distempered in your mind, Me and my children mean you to abandon? Iol. The battle is man’s province: to thy care Them I consign. Alc. But if you die, what means Have I of being saved? Iol. The tender care Of the surviving children of thy son. Alc. Should they too meet with some severe mishap, Which may the gods forbid. Iol. These generous strangers Will not betray thee; banish every fear. Alc. In them I trust: I have no other friend. Iol. Jove too, I know, is mindful of thy toils. Alc. I will not speak in disrespectful terms Of Jove: but whether he his plighted troth Have kept, full well he knows. Ser. [returning.] Thou here behold’st The brazen panoply, now haste to sheathe Thy limbs in mail; the battle is at hand, And Mars detests a loiterer: if thou fear Accoutrements so ponderous, to the field Advance disarmed, nor till thou join the ranks Wear these unwieldy trappings; for meantime I in my hands their burden will sustain. Iol. Well hast thou spoken; with those arms attend me Ready for the encounter, place a spear In my right hand, and under my left arm Hold me, and guide my steps. Ser. Shall I conduct A warrior like a child? Iol. I must tread sure, Else ’twere an evil omen. Ser. Would thy power Equalled thy zeal. Iol. Haste: greatly ’twill afflict me If, left behind, I cannot join the fray. Ser. Slow are thy steps, and hence thou deem’st I move not. Iol. Behold’st thou not the swiftness of my pace? Ser. Thou to thyself I see appear’st to hasten, Although thou gain’st no ground. Iol. When in the field Thou seest me, thou wilt own I speak the truth. Ser. What great exploit achieving? I could wish That thou might’st prove victorious. Iol. Through his shield Some foe transfixing.
Ser. We at length may reach Th’ embattled plain, but this I greatly fear. Iol. Ah, would to heaven, that thou, my withered arm, Again wert vigorous, as in former days Thee I remember, when thou didst lay waste The Spartan realms with Hercules; thus fight My battles now, and singly will I triumph Over Eurystheus, for that dastard fears To face the dangers of th’ embattled field: Too apt in our ideas to unite Valour with wealth, yet to the prosperous man Superior wisdom falsely we ascribe. [Exeunt Iolaus and Servant. Chorus.
ODE.
I. 1. O fostering Earth, resplendent Moon, Who gladd’st the dreary shades of night, And thou, enthroned at broadest noon, Hyperion, ’midst exhaustless light, To me propitious tidings bring, Raise to the skies a festive sound, And waft the gladsome notes around, Till, from the palace of our king, They echo through Minerva’s fane: My house, my country, to maintain Against the ruthless spoiler’s pride, Menaced because this realm extends Protection to its suppliant friends, I with the sword our contest will decide. I. 2. Although there seem just cause for dread, When cities like Mycene blest, Whose triumphs fame hath widely spread Enter this region to invest Our bulwarks, harbouring ruthless hate. Think, O my country, think what shame, Should we reject the suppliant’s claim Appalled by Argos’ haughty state. Resistless Jove shall aid the spear I brandish unappalled by fear; The tribute of eternal praise From all that breathe, to him is due: Nor magnified by our weak view Shall men above the gods their trophies raise. II. 1. Descend with venerable mien, O thou our guardian and our queen, For on thy fostering soil we stand, These walls were reared by thy command, Drive from our menaced gates the lawless host, Suppress that Argive tyrant’s boast; For if by you unaided, is this hand Too weak their fury to withstand. II. 2. Thee, O Minerva, we adore, Thy altar ever streams with gore: We on each moon’s concluding day To thee our public homage pay; Through every fane harmonious numbers sound, Sweet minstrelsy then breathes around, And th’ echoing hills their nightly dance repeat As the nymphs move with agile feet. Servant, Alcmena, Chorus. Ser. O royal dame, the message that to you I bring, is both concise, and what reflects On me abundant glory to relate, In fight have we prevailed, and trophies reared On which the armour of your foes is hung. Alc. This day hath brought thee hither, O my friend, Thy freedom for such tidings to receive: But one anxiety there still remains To which thou leav’st me subject; much I fear For the important lives of those I love. Ser. They live, and have obtained from all the host The greatest fame. Alc. And Iolaus too, My aged friend? Ser. Yet more, he hath performed Through the peculiar favour of the gods Exploits most memorable. Alc. What glorious deed Hath he achieved in fight? Ser. From an old man, He is grown young again. Alc. Thou speak’st of things Most wonderful. But first, how fought our friends With such success, I wish thee to inform me. Ser. All that hath passed, at once will I relate When, to each other in the field opposed, We had arranged both armies, and spread forth The van of battle to its full extent, Hyllus alighting from his chariot, stood In the midway ’twixt either host, and cried: “Thou leader of the Argive troops, who com’st With hostile fury to invade this land, Thy interests recommend what I propose, Nor can Mycene suffer from the loss If thou deprive her of a single warrior; Therefore with me encounter hand to hand, And if thou slay me, seize and bear away The sons of Hercules; but if thou die, My palace and hereditary rank Permit me to enjoy.” The troops assented, And praised what he had spoken as the means Of finishing their labours, and a proof Of his exalted courage. But Eurystheus Unmoved by reverence for th’ assembled host Who heard the challenge, and with terror smitten, Forgot the general’s part, nor dared to face The lifted spear, but acted like a dastard: Yet he who was thus destitute of courage Came to enslave the sons of Hercules. Hyllus again retreated to his rank; The prophets too, when they perceived no peace Could be effected by a single combat, Without delay the blooming virgin slew, Auspicious victim, from whose pallid lips Her trembling spirit fled. The lofty car Some mounted, o’er their sides while others flung Their bucklers to protect them. To his host, Meantime the king of Athens, in a strain Worthy of his exalted courage, spoke: “Ye citizens, the land to which ye owe Your nourishment and birth, now claims your aid.” Equally loth to sully the renown Of Argos and Mycene, in like terms The foe besought his partners of the war Their utmost vigour to exert. No sooner Had the loud signal by Etruria’s trump Been given, than they in thickest battle joined. Think with what crash their brazen shields resounded, What groans and intermingled shouts were heard! First through our lines the host of Argos burst, And in their turn gave way: then foot to foot, And man to man opposed, in stubborn conflict We all persisted: multitudes were slain; But in this language either chief his troops Encouraged: “O ye citizens of Athens, O ye who till the fruitful Argive field, Will ye not from your native land repel The foul disgrace?” But with our utmost efforts Scarce could we put to flight the Argive host. When Iolaus saw young Hyllus break The ranks of battle, he with lifted hands Entreated him to place him in his car, Then seized the reins, and onward in pursuit Of the swift coursers of Eurystheus drove. As to the sequel; from report alone Let others speak, I tell what I have seen: While through Pallenè’s streets he passed, where rise Minerva’s altars, soon as he descried The chariot of Eurystheus, he a prayer Addressed to blooming Hebe, and to Jove, That for that single day he might recover The pristine vigour of his youth, and punish His foes as they deserve. You now shall hear What a miraculous event ensued; Two stars ’bove Iolaus’ chariot stood, And overshadowed it with gloomy clouds, Which, by the wise ’tis said, were Hercules Your son, and blooming Hebe: from that mist Which veiled the skies, the chief grown young again, Displayed his vigorous arms, and near the rocks Of Scyron, seized Eurystheus in his car. Binding his hands with chains, he hither brings The Argive tyrant, a distinguished prize, Who once was happy; but on all mankind Loudly inculcates by his present fortunes This lesson: not too rashly to ascribe Felicity to him who in appearance Is prosperous, but to wait till we behold His close of life; for fortune day by day Doth waver. Chor. Thou great author of success, O Jove, at length am I allowed to view The day, by which my terrors are dispelled. Alc. ’Twas late indeed, when thou, O Jove, didst look On my afflictions; yet am I to thee Most grateful for the kindness thou hast shown me. And though I erst believed not that my son Dwells with the gods, I clearly know it now. Now, O my children, ye from all your toils Shall be set free, and of Eurystheus, doomed With shame to perish, burst the galling yoke, Behold your father’s city, the rich fields Of your inheritance again possess, And sacrifice to your paternal gods, From whom excluded, in a foreign land Ye led a wandering miserable life. But with what sage design yet undisclosed, Hath Iolaus spared Eurystheus’ life, Inform me: for to us it seems unwise Not to avenge our wrongs when we have caught Our enemies. Ser. He through respect to you Hath acted thus, that you might see the tyrant Vanquished, and rendered subject to your power, Not by his own consent, but in the yoke Bound by necessity; for he was loth To come into your presence, ere he bleed, And suffer as he merits. But farewell, O venerable matron, and remember The promise you first made when I began These tidings, and, oh, set me free: for nought But truth should from ingenuous lips proceed. [Exit Servant. Chorus.
ODE.
I. 1. To me the choral song is sweet, When the shrill flute and genial banquet meet, If Venus also grace the festive board: I taste a more refined delight Now I behold my friends (transporting sight!) To unexpected happiness restored. For in this nether world, eventful Fate, And Saturn’s offspring Time, full many a change create. I. 2. Follow the plain and beaten way, From Justice, O my country, never stray, Nor cease the powers immortal to revere. To heights scarce short of frenzy rise The errors of that mortal, who denies Assent to truths confirmed by proofs so clear. Jove’s power by signal judgments is descried, Oft as his vengeance blasts the towering crest of pride. II. 1. In heavenly mansions with the blest, Thy son, O venerable dame, doth rest; He hath confuted those invidious tales, That to loathed Pluto’s house he came Soon as he perished in that dreadful flame: He under roofs of burnished gold regales, On the soft couch of lovely Hebe placed; Them two, both sprung from Jove, O Hymen, thou hast graced. II. 2. Events, which strike man’s wondering eyes, From a variety of causes rise. For fame relates how Pallas saved the sire, And from her city far renowned, Her race, protection have the children found; She hath suppressed th’ o’erweening tyrant’s ire, Whose violence no laws could ere control; Curse on such boundless pride, that fever of the soul. Messenger, Eurystheus, Alcmena, Chorus. Mes. Your eyes indeed behold, O royal dame, Yet shall this tongue declare that we have brought Eurystheus hither, unexpected sight, Reverse of fortune his presumptuous soul Foresaw not, this oppressor little deemed That he should ever fall into your hands, When from Mycene, by the Cyclops’ toil Erected, he those squadrons led, and hoped With pride o’erweening to lay Athens waste; But Heaven our situation hath reversed: And therefore with exulting Hyllus joins The valiant Iolaus, in erecting Trophies to Jove the author of our conquest. But they to you commanded me to lead This captive, wishing to delight your soul: For ’tis most grateful to behold a foe Fall’n from the height of gay prosperity. Alc. Com’st thou, detested wretch? at length hath Justice O’ertaken thee? First hither turn thy head, And dare to face thine enemies: for, dwindled Into a vassal, thou no longer rul’st. Art thou the man (for I would know the truth) Who didst presume to heap unnumbered wrongs, Thou author of all mischief, on my son While yet he lived, wherever now resides His dauntless spirit? For in what one instance Didst thou not injure him? At thy command, Alive he travelled to th’ infernal shades; Thou sent’st, and didst commission him to slay Hydras and lions. Various other mischiefs, Which were by thee contrived, I mention not, For an attempt to speak of them at large Would be full tedious. Nor was it enough For thee to venture on these wrongs alone, But thou, moreover, from each Grecian state Me and these children hast expelled, though seated As suppliants at the altars of the gods, Confounding those whose locks are grey through age With tender infants. But thou here hast found Those who were men indeed, and a free city Which feared thee not. Thou wretchedly shalt perish, And pay this bitter usury to atone For all thy crimes, whose number is so great That it were just thou more than once shouldst die. Mes. You must not kill him. Alc. Then have we in vain Taken him captive. But what law forbids His being slain? Mes. The rulers of this land Consent not. Alc. Is it not by them esteemed A glorious action to despatch our foes? Mes. Not such as they have seized alive in battle. Alc. Is Hyllus satisfied with this decree? Mes. He, in my judgment, will forsooth act rightly, If he oppose what Athens shall enjoin. Alc. The captive tyrant ill deserves to live, Or longer view the sun. Mes. In this first instance They did amiss, when by their swords he died not. Alc. Is it not just that he should suffer still? Mes. He who will slay him is not to be found. Alc. What shall I say if some adventurous hand—— Mes. If you do this, you will incur great censure. Alc. I love this city, I confess: but no man, Since he is fall’n into my power, shall force This prisoner from me: let them call me bold And more presumptuous than becomes a woman, I am resolved to execute my purpose. Mes. Full well I know the hatred which you bear To this unhappy man is terrible, And such as merits pardon. Eur. Be convinced Of this, O woman, that I cannot flatter, Nor to preserve this wretched life say aught, Whence they may brand me with a dastard’s name. For I with much reluctance undertook This contest; near in blood am I to thee, And of that race whence sprung thy son Alcides. But whether I consented, or was loth, Me Juno caused by her immortal power To harbour this dire frenzy in my breast. Since I became his foe, since I resolved Upon this strife, much mischief I devised, And brooded o’er it many a tedious night, That after I had wearied out and slain Those I abhorred, I might no longer lead A life of fear: for well I knew thy son Was no mere cipher, but a man indeed: Though strong my hate, on him will I confer The praise he merits from his valiant deeds. But after he was dead, was I not forced, Because I was a foe to these his sons, And knew what bitter enmity ’gainst me They from their sire inherited, to leave No stone unturned, to slay, to banish them, And plot their ruin? Could I have succeeded In these designs, my throne had stood secure. If thou my prosperous station hadst obtained, Wouldst thou not have attempted to hunt down The lion’s whelps, instead of suffering them At Argos unmolested to reside? Thou canst prevail on no man to give credit To such assertions: therefore, since my foes Forbore to slay me, when prepared to lose My life in battle, by the laws of Greece, If I now die, my blood will fix a stain Of lasting guilt on him who murders me. This city hath discreetly spared my life, More influenced by its reverence for the gods Than by the hatred which to me it bears. My answer to the charges thou hast urged Against me, having heard, esteem me now A suppliant, and though wretched, still a king, For such is my condition: though to die I wish not, yet can I without regret Surrender up my life. Chor. To you, Alcmena, A little wholesome counsel would I give, This captive monarch to release, since such The pleasure of the city. Alc. If he die, And to the mandates of th’ Athenian realm I still submit, what mischief can ensue? Chor. ’Twere best of all. But how can these two things Be reconciled? Alc. I will inform you how This may with ease be done. I, to his friends, When slain will yield him up, and with this land Comply in the disposal of his corse: But he shall die to sate my just revenge. Eur. Destroy me if thou wilt; to thee I sue not: But on this city, since it spared my life Through pious reverence, and forbore to slay me, Will I bestow an ancient oracle Of Phœbus, which in future times shall prove More advantageous than ye now suppose; For after death, so have the Fates decreed, My corse shall ye inter before the temple Of the Pallenian maid: to you a friend And guardian of your city, shall I rest Beneath this soil for ever; but a foe To those who spring from this detested race When with their armies they invade this land Requiting with ingratitude your kindness: Such strangers ye protect. But thus forewarned, Why came I hither? Through a fond belief That Juno was with far superior power To each oracular response endued, And that my cause she ne’er would have betrayed. On me waste no libations, nor let gore Be poured forth on the spot of my interment, For I to punish these their impious deeds, Will cause them with dishonour to return: From me shall ye receive a double gain, For you I will assist, and prove to them Most baneful e’en in death. Alc. Why are ye loth To slay this man, if what ye hear be true, That welfare to this city hence will spring, And your prosperity? For he points out The safest road. Alive he is a foe, But after he is dead will prove a friend. Ye servants bear him hence, and to the dogs Cast forth without delay his breathless corse: Think not, presumptuous wretch, that thou shalt live Again t’ expel me from my native land. Chor. With this am I well pleased. My followers, go. For hence in our king’s sight shall we stand guiltless.