Heracleidae (794-900)

Aye, that he is, a hero whom the gods delight to honour.

How so? Did he perform some deed of prowess?

He hath passed from age to youth once more.

Thy tale is passing strange; but first I would that thou shouldst tell me, how our friends won the day.

One speech of mine puts it all clearly before thee.

When we had deployed our troops and marshalled them face to face with one another, Hyllus dismounted from his four-horsed chariot and stood midway betwixt the hosts. Then cried he, Captain, who art come from Argos,

why cannot we leave this land alone? No hurt wilt thou do Mycenae, if of one man thou rob her; come! meet me in single combat, and, if thou slay me, take the children of Heracles away with thee,

but, if thou fall, leave me to possess my ancestral honours and my home. The host cried yes! saying the scheme he offered was a fair one, both to rid them of their trouble and satisfy their valour. But that other, feeling no shame before those who heard the challenge or at his own cowardice, quailed, general though he was,

to come within reach of the stubborn spear, showing himself an abject coward; yet with such a spirit he came to enslave the children of Heracles. Then did Hyllus withdraw to his own ranks again, and the prophets seeing that no reconciliation would be effected by single combat,

began the sacrifice without delay and forthwith let flow from a human[*] throat auspicious streams of blood. And some were mounting chariots, while others couched beneath the shelter of their shields, and the king of the Athenians,

as a highborn chieftain should, would exhort his host: Fellow-citizens, the land, that feeds you and that gave you birth, demands to-day the help of every man. Likewise Eurystheus besought his allies that they should scorn to sully the feme of Argos and Mycenae.

Anon the Etrurian trumpet sounded loud and clear, and hand to hand they rushed; then think how loudly clashed their ringing shields, what din arose of cries and groans confused! At first the onset of the Argive spearmen

broke our ranks; then they in turn gave ground; next, foot to foot and man to man, they fought their stubborn fray, many falling the while. And either chief cheered on his men, Sons of Athens! Ye who till the fields of Argos!

ward from your land disgrace. Do all we could, and spite of every effort, scarce could we turn the Argive line in flight. When lo! old Iolaus sees Hyllus starting from the ranks, whereon he lifts his hands to him with a prayer

to take him up into his chariot. Thereon he seized the reins and went hard after the horses of Eurystheus. From this point onward must I speak from hearsay, though hitherto as one whose own eyes saw. For as he was crossing Pallene’s hill,

sacred to the goddess Athene, he caught sight of Eurystheus’ chariot, and prayed to Hebe and to Zeus, that for one single day he might grow young again and wreak his vengeance on his foes. Now must thou hear a wondrous tale: two stars settled on the horses’ yokes

and threw the chariot into dark shadow, which—at least so say our wiser folk—were thy son and Hebe; and from that murky gloom appeared that aged man in the form of a youth with strong young arms; then by the rocks of Sciron

the hero Iolaus o’ertakes Eurystheus’ chariot. And he bound his hands with gyves, and is bringing that chieftain once so prosperous as a trophy hither, whose fortune now doth preach a lesson, clear as day, to all the sons of men,

that none should envy him, who seems to thrive, until they see his death; for fortune’s moods last but a day.

O Zeus, who puttest my foes to flight, now may I behold the day that frees me from cruel fear!

At last, O Zeus, hast thou turned a favouring eye on my affliction;

yet do I thank thee for what has happened. And though ere this I did not believe my son was gathered to the gods, now am I convinced thereof. My children, now at last from toil shall ye be free, free from him, whom hideous death awaits,

Eurystheus; now shall ye behold your father’s city, and set foot in the land of your inheritance, and sacrifice to those ancestral gods, from whom ye have been debarred and forced to lead in strangers’ lands a life of wretched vagrancy. But tell me, what sage purpose Iolaus

nursed in his heart, that he spared the life of Eurystheus, for to my mind this is no wisdom, to catch a foe and wreak no vengeance on him.

’Twas his regard for thee, that thou might’st see him subject to thy hand, and triumph[*] o’er him.

Rest assured, ’twas no willing prisoner he made, but by strong constraint he bound him, for Eurystheus was loth indeed to come alive into thy presence and pay his penalty. Farewell, my aged mistress; I pray thee remember thy first promise when I was beginning my story;

set me free; for, at such a time as this, sincerity becometh noble lips. [Exit Servant.