Oh, will no one come and sever the head, at one fierce stroke, from
this wretched body? Woe, woe is me!
Old Man: Son of Heracles, this task exceeds my strength,- help thou,-
for strength is at thy command, too largely to need my aid in his
relief.
Hyllus: My hands are helping; but no resource, in myself or from another,
avails me to make his life forget its anguish:- such is the doom appointed
by Zeus!
Heracles: (strophe 3)
O my son, where art thou? Raise me,- take hold of me,- thus thus!
Alas, my destiny!
(antistrophe 2)
Again, again the cruel pest leaps forth to rend me, the fierce plague
with which none may cope!
O Pallas, Pallas, it tortures me again! Alas, my son, pity thy sire,-
draw a blameless sword, and smite beneath my collar-bone, and heal
this pain wherewith thy godless mother hath made me wild! So may I
see her fall,- thus, even thus, as she hath destroyed me!
Studies
