Heracles

1Chorus To the sheltering roof, to the old man’s couch, leaning on my staff have I set forth, chanting a plaintive dirge like some bird grown grey, I that am only a voice and a fancy bred of the visions of sleep by night, palsied with age, yet meaning kindly. All hail! you orphaned children! all hail, old friend! you too, unhappy mother, wailing for your husband in the halls of Hades!

1Chorus Do not faint too soon upon your way, or let your limbs grow weary, as a colt beneath the yoke grows weary as he mounts some stony hill, dragging the weight of a wheeled chariot. Take hold of hand or robe, who ever feels his footsteps falter. Old friend, escort another like yourself, who once amid his toiling peers in the days of our youth would take his place beside you, no blot upon his country’s glorious record.

1Chorus Phoebus is singing a dirge, after his happier strains, for Linus dead in his beauty, striking his lyre with key of gold; but I wish to sing a song of praise, a crown to all his toil, on the one who has gone to the gloom beneath the nether world, whether I am to call him son of Zeus or of Amphitryon. For the virtue of noble toils is a glory to the dead.

1Chorus First he cleared the grove of Zeus of a lion, and put its skin upon his back, hiding his yellow auburn hair in its fearful gaping jaws.

1Chorus And then one day with murderous bow he wounded the race of wild Centaurs, that range the hills, slaying them with winged shafts. Peneus, the river of fair eddies, knows him well, and those far fields unharvested, and the steadings on Pelion and neighboring caves of Homole, from where the Centaurs rode forth to conquer Thessaly, arming themselves with pines.

1Chorus And he slew that dappled deer with horns of gold, that preyed upon the country-folk, glorifying Artemis, huntress queen of Oenoe.

2Chorus Next he mounted on a chariot and tamed with the bit the horses of Diomedes, that greedily champed their bloody food at gory mangers with unbridled jaws, devouring with hideous joy the flesh of men; then crossing the heights of Hebrus that flow with silver, he still toiled on for the tyrant of Mycenae.

2Chorus And at the strand of the Pelian gulf by the streams of Anaurus, he slew with his arrows Cycnus, murderer of his guests, the savage wretch who dwelt in Amphanae.

2Chorus And he came to those minstrel maids, to their orchard in the west, to pluck from the leafy apple-tree its golden fruit, when he had slain the tawny dragon, whose terrible coils were twined all round to guard it; and he made his way into ocean’s lairs, bringing calm to men that use the oar.

2Chorus And he stretched out his hands to uphold the firmament, seeking the home of Atlas, and on his manly shoulders took the starry mansions of the gods.

3Chorus Then he went through the waves of heaving Euxine against the mounted host of Amazons dwelling round Maeotis, the lake that is fed by many a stream, having gathered to his standard all his friends from Hellas, to fetch the gold-embroidered raiment of the warrior queen, a deadly quest for a girdle. Hellas won those glorious spoils of the barbarian maid, and they are safe in Mycenae.

3Chorus He burned to ashes Lerna’s murderous hound, the many-headed water-snake, and smeared its venom on his darts, with which he slew the shepherd of Erytheia, a monster with three bodies.

3Chorus And many another glorious achievement he brought to a happy issue; to Hades’ house of tears has he now sailed, the goal of his labors, where he is ending his career of toil, nor does he come back again. Now your house is left without a friend, and Charon’s boat awaits your children to bear them on that journey out of life, without return, contrary to the gods’ law and man’s justice; and it is to your prowess that your house is looking although you are not here.

3Chorus Had I been strong and lusty, able to brandish the spear in battle’s onset, and my Theban companions too, I would have stood by your children to champion them; but now my happy youth is gone and I am left.

1Chorus Dear to me is youth always, but old age is hanging over my head, a burden heavier than Aetna’s crags, casting its pall of gloom upon my eyes. Oh! never may the wealth of Asia’s kings tempt me to barter for houses stored with gold my happy youth, which is in wealth and poverty alike most fair! But old age is gloomy and deadly; I hate it; let it sink beneath the waves! Would it had never found its way to the homes and towns of mortal men, but were still drifting on for ever down the wind.

1Chorus Had the gods shown discernment and wisdom, as mortals count these things, men would have won youth twice over, a visible mark of worth among whomever found, and after death these would have run a double course once more to the sun-light, while the low born would have had a single portion of life; and thus would it have been possible to distinguish the good and the bad, just as sailors know the number of the stars amid the clouds. But, as it is, the gods have set no certain boundary between good and bad, but time’s onward roll brings increase only to man’s wealth.

2Chorus Never will I cease to link in one the Graces and the Muses, sweetest union. Never may I live among uneducated boors, but ever may I find a place among the crowned! Yes, still the aged singer lifts up his voice of bygone memories: still is my song of the triumphs of Heracles, whether Bromius the giver of wine is near, or the strains of the seven-stringed lyre and the Libyan pipe are rising; not yet will I cease to sing the Muses’ praise, my patrons in the dance.

2Chorus The maids of Delos raise their song of joy, circling round the temple gates in honor of Leto’s fair son, the graceful dancer; so I with my old lips will cry aloud songs of joy at your palace-doors, like the swan, aged singer; for there is a good theme for minstrelsy; he is the son of Zeus; yet high above his noble birth tower his deeds of prowess, for his toil secured this life of calm for man, having destroyed all fearsome beasts.

1Chorus Evil has changed sides; he who was once a mighty king is now turning his life backward into the road to Hades. Hail to you! Justice and heavenly retribution. At last have you reached the goal where your death will pay the penalty, for your insults against your betters. Joy makes my tears burst forth. He has come back— which I never once thought in my heart would happen—the prince of the land. Come, old friends, let us look within to see if someone has met the fate I hope. Lycus (within) Ah me! ah me!

1Chorus Ha! how sweet to hear that opening note of his within the house; death is not far off him now. The prince cries out, wailing a prelude of death. Lycus (within) O kingdom of Cadmus, I am perishing by treachery! Chorus You were yourself for making others perish; endure your retribution; it is only the penalty of your own deeds you are paying. Who was he, only a mortal, that aimed his silly saying at the blessed gods of heaven with impious blasphemy, maintaining that they are weaklings after all? Old friends, our godless foe is now no more. The house is still; let us turn to the dance. Yes, for fortune smiles upon my friends as I desire.

2Chorus Dances, dances and banquets now prevail throughout the holy town of Thebes. For change from tears, change from sorrow give birth to song. The new king is gone; our former monarch rules, having made his way even from the harbor of Acheron. Hope beyond all expectation is fulfilled.

2Chorus The gods, the gods take care to heed the right and wrong. It is their gold and their good luck that lead men’s hearts astray, bringing in their train unjust power. For no man ever had the courage to reflect what reverses Time might bring; but, disregarding law to gratify lawlessness, he shatters the black chariot of prosperity.

3Chorus O Ismenus, deck yourself with garlands! Break forth into dancing, you paved streets of our seven-gated city! come Dirce, fount of waters fair; and joined with her you nymphs of Asopus, come from your father’s waves to add your voices to our hymn, the victor’s prize that Heracles has won. O Pythian rock with forests crowned, and haunts of the Muses on Helicon! you will come to my city and her walls with cries of joy; where the earth-born crop sprang to view, a warrior-host with shields of brass, who are handing on their realm to children’s children, a divine light to Thebes.

3Chorus All hail the marriage! in which two bridegrooms shared; the one, a mortal; the other, Zeus, who came to wed the bride sprung from Perseus; for that marriage of yours, O Zeus, in days gone by has been proved to me a true story beyond all expectation; and time has shown the brightness of Heracles’ strength; for he emerged from caverns beneath the earth after leaving Pluto’s halls below. To me you are a worthier lord than that base-born king, who now lets it be plainly seen in this struggle between armed warriors, whether justice still finds favor in heaven.