Heracles Mad (238-335)

Say what you will of me in your exalted phrase, but I by deeds will make you rue those words.

Calling to his servants Go, some to Helicon, others to the glens of Parnassus, and bid woodmen to cut me logs of oak, and when they are brought to the town, pile up a stack of wood all round the altar on either side, and set fire to it and burn them

all alive, that they may learn that the dead no longer rules this land, but that for the present I am king. Angrily to the Chorus As for you, old men, since you thwart my views, not for the children of Heracles alone shall you lament, but likewise for your own

misfortunes, and you shall never forget you are slaves and I your prince.

—You sons of Earth, whom Ares once sowed, when from the dragon’s ravening jaw he had torn the teeth, up with your staves, on which you lean your hands,

and dash out this villain’s brains! a fellow who, without even being a Theban, but a foreigner, lords it shamefully over the younger men; but my master shall you never be to your joy.

—Nor shall you reap the harvest of all my toil;

Go back to where you came from, in your insolence. For never while I live, shall you slay these sons of Heracles; not so deep beneath the earth has their father disappeared from his children’s ken.

—You are in possession of this land which you have ruined,

while he, its benefactor, has missed his just reward.

—And yet do I take too much upon myself because I help those I love after their death, when most they need a friend?

—Ah! right hand, how you desire to wield the spear, but your weakness is a death-blow to your desire.

For then I would have stopped you calling me slave, and I would have governed Thebes with credit. In which you now rejoice; for a city sick with dissension and evil counsels does not think aright; otherwise it would never have accepted you as its master.

Old men, I thank you; it is right that friends should feel virtuous indignation on behalf of those they love; but do not on our account vent your anger on the tyrant to your own undoing. Hear my advice, Amphitryon, if there appears to you to be anything in what I say.

I love my children; strange if I did not love those whom I bore, whom I labored for! Death I count a dreadful fate; but the man who strives against necessity I esteem a fool. Since we must die, let us do so

without being burnt alive, a source of mockery to our enemies, which to my mind is an evil worse than death; for much good do we owe our family. You have always had a warrior’s fair fame, so it is not to be endured that you should die a coward’s death;

and my husband’s reputation needs no one to witness that he would never consent to save these children’s lives by letting them incur the stain of cowardice; for the noble are afflicted by disgrace on account of their children, nor must I shrink from following my lord’s example.

As to your hopes consider how I weigh them. Do you think your son will return from beneath the earth? And who ever has come back from the dead out of the halls of Hades? But would you soften this man by entreaty? Oh no! better to fly from one’s enemy when he is so brutish,

but yield to men of breeding and culture; for you would more easily conclude a friendly truce by accepting regard. True, a thought has already occurred to me that we might by entreaty obtain a sentence of exile for the children; yet this too is misery, to compass their deliverance with dire penury as the result;

for it is a saying that hosts look sweetly on banished friends for a day and no more. Endure to die with us, for that awaits you after all. By your brave soul I challenge you, old friend; for whoever struggles hard to escape destiny sent by the gods

shows zeal no doubt, but it is zeal with a taint of folly; for what must be, no one will ever avail to alter.

If a man had insulted you, while yet my arms were strong, there would have been an easy way to stop him; but now am I am nothing ; and so you henceforth, Amphitryon,

must scheme how to avert misfortune.

It is not cowardice or any longing for life that hinders my dying, but my wish to save my son’s children, though no doubt I am longing for the impossible. See! here is my neck ready for the sword

to pierce, to hack, to hurl from the rock; only one favor I crave for both of us, king; slay me and this hapless mother before you slay the children, that we may not see the hideous sight, as they gasp out their lives, calling on their mother

and their father’s father; for the rest work your will if so you are inclined; for we have no defense against death.

I too implore you add a second favor, that by your single act you may put us both under a double obligation; allow me to deck my children in the robes of death,

first opening the palace gates, for now we are shut out, so that this at least they may obtain from their father’s halls.

I grant it, and bid my servants undo the bolts. Go in and deck yourselves; robes do not grudge. But as soon as you have clothed yourselves,

I will return to you to consign you to the nether world. Exit Lycus.