crying aloud upon her own fate, and her childless existence thereafter. But when she finished this, I saw her suddenly rush into the bedchamber of Heracles. I hid in the shadows to keep my observation secret and was watching over herwhen I saw her spread coverings on the bedstead of Heracles. When she had done this, she sprang up on them and sat in the middle of the bed. Then she broke out in warm streams of tearsand said: “Ah, my bridal bed and bridal chamber, farewell now and for ever, since you will never more receive me in these covers as his wife.” She says no more, but with a vehement hand she loosens her robe where the brooch of beaten goldlies above her breasts and bares all her left side and arm. Then I run with all my strength, and warn her son of her intent. But even in the space between my going and our return,we find that she has driven a two-edged sword up through her side to the heart. At that sight, her son gave a great cry. For he knew, poor boy, that in his anger he had driven her to that action. He had learned too late from the servants in the housethat she had acted without knowledge and at the will of the monster. Then and there the youth in his misery left no cry of grief unmade as he lamented over her, nor as he fell to kiss her lips; he threw himself at her side, loudly moaningthat he had rashly attacked her with a false accusation and weeping that he must now live orphaned of both alike, of his father and of her. Such are the fortunes of this house. Rash, indeed, is he who reckons on tomorrow, or perchance on days beyond it.There is no tomorrow, until today is safely past. Exit the Nurse.

ChorusWhich disaster shall I bewail first? Which is more to be pitied? In my grief I cannot decide.

ChorusOne sorrow may be seen in the house; for one we wait with apprehension. To have and to await are one and the same.

Chorusoh, that some strong breeze, a fair wind, might arise at our hearthto bear me far from this land, so that I might not die of terror when I look but onceupon the mighty seed of Zeus! For they say that he is approaching the house in torments from which there is no deliverance, a wonder of unutterable woe.

ChorusAh, he was not far off, but close to us, he for whom I cried in advance, like the shrill nightingale! Here is a foreign procession of strange men. And in what manner, then, do they bring him? In sorrow, as for some loved one, they tread their mournful, noiseless tread. Ah, he is carried on in silence!Should I think that he is dead, or just asleep?

Enter from one side an Old Man, with attendants, bearing Heracles upon a litter, and Hyllus from the house.HyllusO my father! O my misery! What is to become of me? What is my best plan? Ah!Old ManWhispering.Hush, young man! Do not rousethe cruel pain that infuriates your father! He lives, though on the very edge. Bite your tongue and hold it!HyllusWhat do you say, old man—is he alive?Old ManYou must not awake the slumberer! You must not rouse and revivehis fierce, recurrent infection, my son!HyllusBut the immense weight of this misery crushes me. My heart craves release!HeraclesO Zeus, in what land am I? Among what peopledo I lie, tortured with unending agonies? O me, what pain! Oh, that accursed pest gnaws me once more!Old ManDid I not know how much better it was that you should keep silent, instead of scatteringsleep from his brain and eyes?HyllusNo, I know no way to be patient when I witness this misery.HeraclesO Cenaean rock, foundation of my altars, what cruel rewardyou have earned me for those fair offerings, O Zeus! Ah, in what ruin you have deposited me, in what ruin! Would that I had never looked on you to my sorrow with my eyes, never come face to face with this blooming madness, which no spell can soothe!Where is the enchanter, where the practiced healer, save Zeus alone, who will charm this catastrophe away? I would be amazed if I saw him from even a great distance!