Which woe shall I bewail first, which misery is the greater? Alas,
'tis hard for me to tell.
(antistrophe 1)
One sorrow may be seen in the house; for one we wait with foreboding:
and suspense hath a kinship with pain.
(strophe 2)
Oh that some strong breeze might come with wafting power unto our
hearth, to bear me far from this land, lest I die of terror, when
look but once upon the mighty son of Zeus!
For they say that he is approaching the house in torments from which
there is no deliverance, a wonder of unutterable woe.
(antistrophe 2)
Ah, it was not far off, but close to us, that woe of which my lament
gave warning, like the nightingale's piercing note!
Men of an alien race are coming yonder. And how, then, are they bringing
him? In sorrow, as for some loved one, they move on their mournful,
noiseless march.
Alas, he is brought in silence! What are we to think; that he is dead,
or sleeping? (Enter Hyllus and an Old Man, with attendants,bearing
Heracles upon a litter.)
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