Euripides' HERACLES Complete

Translated by E. Coleridge.

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63 pages - You are on Page 37

Then he set out, and though he had no chariot there, he thought he
had, and was for mounting to its seat, and using a goad as though
his fingers really held one. A twofold feeling filled his servants'
breasts, half amusement, and half fear; and one looking to his neighbour
said, "Is our master making sport for us, or is he mad?" But he the
while was pacing to and fro in his house; and, rushing into the men's
chamber, he thought he had reached the city of Nisus, albeit he had
gone into his own halls. So he threw himself upon the floor, as if
he were there, and made ready to feast. But after waiting a brief
space he began saying he was on his way to the plains amid the valleys
of the Isthmus; and then stripping himself of his mantle, he fell
to competing with an imaginary rival, o'er whom he proclaimed himself
victor with his own voice, calling on imaginary spectators to listen.
Next, fancy carrying him to Mycenae, he was uttering fearful threats
against Eurystheus. Meantime his father caught him by his stalwart
arm, and thus addressed him, "My son, what meanest thou hereby? What
strange doings are these? Can it be that the blood of thy late victims
has driven thee frantic?" But he, supposing it was the father of Eurystheus
striving in abject supplication to touch his hand, thrust him aside,
and then against his own children aimed his bow and made ready his
quiver, thinking to slay the sons of Eurystheus. And they in wild
affright darted hither and thither, one to his hapless mother's skirts,
another to the shadow of a pillar, while a third cowered 'neath the
altar like a bird. Then cried their mother, "O father, what art thou
doing? dost mean to slay thy children?" Likewise his aged sire and
all the gathered servants cried aloud. But he, hunting the child round
and round, the column, in dreadful circles, and coming face to face
with him shot him to the heart; and he fell upon his back, sprinkling
the stone pillars with blood as he gasped out his life. Then did Heracles
shout for joy and boasted loud, "Here lies one of Eurystheus' brood
dead at my feet, atoning for his father's hate." Against a second
did he aim his bow, who had crouched at the altar's foot thinking
to escape unseen. But ere he fired, the poor child threw himself at
his father's knees, and, flinging his hand to reach his beard or neck,
cried, "Oh! slay me not, dear father mine! I am thy child, thine own;
'tis no son of Eurystheus thou wilt slay."

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