Heracleidae

Perseus Greek · Perseus Greek · 218 sections

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No longer then cower before the hated Argive spear; for I, of my own free will, or ever they bid me, am ready to die and offer myself as a victim. For what excuse have we, if, while this city deems it right to incur a great danger on our behalf,
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we, though we might save ourselves, fly from death, by foisting our trouble on others? No! indeed, ’twere surely most ridiculous to sit and mourn as suppliants of the gods, and show ourselves but cowards, children as we are of that illustrious sire.
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Where among the brave is such conduct seen? Better, I suppose, this city should be taken and I (which Heaven forefend!) fall into the hands of the enemy, and then, for all I am my noble father’s child, meet an awful doom, and face the Death-god none the less.
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Shall I wander as an exile from this land? Shall I not feel shame then, when someone says, as say they will, Why are ye come hither with suppliant boughs, loving your lives too well? Begone from our land! for we will not succour cowards.
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Nay, if these be slain and I alone be saved, I have no hope in any wise of being happy, though many ere now have in this hope betrayed their friends. For who will care to wed a lonely maid or make me mother of his children?
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’Tis better I should die than meet such treatment, little as I merit it. This were fitter treatment for some other, one that is not born to fame as I am. Conduct me to the scene of death, crown me with garlands, and begin the rites, if so it please you;
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then be victorious o’er the foe, for here I offer my life freely and without constraint, and for my brothers and myself I undertake to die. For I, by loving not my life too well, have found a treasure very fair, a glorious means to leave it.
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Ah, what shall I say on hearing the maid’s brave words, she that is ready to die for her brothers? Who can speak more noble words or do more noble deeds henceforth for ever?
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Daughter, thou art his own true child, no other man’s but Heracles’,
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that godlike soul; proud am I of thy words, though I sorrow for thy lot. Yet will I propose a fairer method: ’tis right to summon hither all the sisters of this maiden,
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and then let her, on whom the lot shall fall, die for her family; for that thou shouldst die without the lot is not just.
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My death shall no chance lot decide; there is no graciousness in that; peace! old friend. But if ye accept and will avail you
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of my readiness, freely do I offer my life for these, and without constraint.
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Ah, this is even nobler than thy former word; that was matchless, but thou dost now surpass
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thy bravery and noble speech. I cannot bid, will not forbid thy dying, Omy daughter! for by thy death thou dost thy brothers serve.
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A cautious bidding thine! Fear not to take a stain of guilt from me; only let me die as one whose death is free.
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Follow me, old friend, for in thy arms I fain would die; stand by and veil my body with my robe, for I will go even to the dreadful doom of sacrifice, seeing whose daughter I avow myself.
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I cannot stand by and see thee bleed.
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At least do thou beg me this boon of the king, that I may breathe out my life in women’s arms instead of men’s.
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It shall be so, unhappy maid; for this were shame to me to refuse thee honour due, for many reasons: because thou hast a soul so brave; because
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’tis right; and thou hast shown more courage than any of thy sex my eyes have ever seen. Now, if thou hast aught to say to these children or thy aged guide, oh! say the last thou hast to say—then go.
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Farewell, old friend, farewell! and prithee teach
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these children to be like thyself, wise at every point; let them strive no further, for that will suffice them. And seek to save them from death, even as thou art anxious to do; thy children are we, thy care it was that nurtured us. Thou seest how I yield my bridal
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bloom to die for them. For you, my brothers gathered here, may you be happy! and may every blessing be yours, for the which my blood shall pay the price! Honour this old friend, and her that is within the house,
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Alcmena, the aged mother of my sire, and these strangers too. And if ever heaven for you devise release from trouble and a return to your home, remember the burial due to her that saved you, a funeral fair as I deserve; for I have not failed,
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but stood by you, and died to save my race. This shall be my pearl of price instead of children, and for the maiden life I leave, if there be really aught beyond the grave—God grant there may not be! For if, e’en there, we who are to die shall find a life of care,
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I know not whither one shall turn; for death is held a sovereign cure for every ill.
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Maiden of heroic soul, transcending all thy race, be sure the fame that thou shalt win from us, in life, in death, shall leave the rest of women far behind;
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farewell to thee! I dare not say harsh words of her to whom thou art devoted, the goddess-daughter of Demeter. [Exit Macaria.] Children, I am undone, grief unnerves my limbs; take hold and support me to a seat hard by, when ye have drawn my mantle o’er my face, my sons.
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For I am grieved at what hath happened, and yet, were it not fulfilled, we could not live; thus were the mischief worse, though this is grief enough.
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Without the will of heaven none is blest, none curst, I do maintain;
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nor doth the same house for ever tread the path of bliss; for one kind of fortune follows hard upon another; one man it brings to naught from his high estate, another though of no account it crowns with happiness.
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To shun what fate decrees, is no wise permitted; none by cunning shall thrust it from him; but he, who vainly would do so, shall have unceasing trouble.
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Then fall not prostrate thou, but bear what heaven sends, and set a limit
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to thy soul’s grief; for she, poor maid! in dying for her brothers and this land, hath won a glorious death, and splendid fame shall be her meed from all mankind;
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for virtue’s path leads through troublous ways. Worthy of her father, worthy of her noble birth is this conduct. And if thou dost honour the virtuous dead, I share with thee that sentiment.
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Not yet hath time laid low thy spirit, ’tis young as ever; but thy body’s strength is gone. Why toil to no purpose?
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’Twill do thee hurt and benefit our city little. At thy age thou shouldst confess thy error and let impossibilities alone. Thou canst in no way get thy vigour back again.
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What means this mad resolve
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to leave me with my children undefended here?
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Men must fight; and thou must look to them.
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And what if thou art slain? what safety shall I find?
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Thy son’s surviving children will care for thee.
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Suppose they meet with some reverse? which Heaven forefend!
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These strangers will not give thee up, fear not.
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They are my last and only hope, I have no other.
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Zeus too, I feel sure, cares for thy sufferings.
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Ah! of Zeus will I never speak ill, but himself doth know, whether he is just to me.
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Lo! here thou seest a full coat of mail; make haste to case thyself therein; for the strife is nigh, and bitterly doth Ares loathe loiterers; but if thou fear the weight of the armour, go for the present without it, and in the ranks
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do on this gear; meantime will I carry it.
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Well said! keep the harness ready to my hand, put a spear within my grasp, and support me on the left side, guiding my steps.
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Am I to lead this warrior like a child?
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To save the omen, we must go without stumbling.
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Would thy power to act were equal to thy zeal!
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Hasten; I shall feel it grievously, if I am too late for the battle.
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’Tis thou who art slow, not I, though thou fanciest thou art doing wonders.
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Dost not mark how swift my steps are hasting?
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I mark more seeming than reality in thy haste.
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Thou wilt tell a different tale when thou seest me there.
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What shall I see thee do? I wish thee all success, at any rate.
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Thou shalt see me smite some foeman through the shield.
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Perhaps, if ever we get there. I have my fears of that.
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Ah! would to Heaven that thou, mine arm, e’en as I remember thee in thy lusty youth, when with Heracles thou didst sack Sparta, couldst so champion me to-day! how I would put Eurystheus to flight! since he is too craven to wait the onslaught.
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For prosperity carries with it this error too a reputation for bravery; for we think the prosperous man a master of all knowledge.
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O earth, and moon that shines by night, and dazzling radiance of the god,
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that giveth light to man, bear the tidings to me, shout aloud to heaven for joy, and beside our ruler’s throne, and in the shrine of grey-eyed Athene.
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For my fatherland and home will I soon decide the issue of the strife with the gleaming sword, because I have taken suppliants under my protection.
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’Tis a fearful thing, that a city
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prosperous as Mycenae is, one famed for martial prowess, should harbour wrath against my land; still, my countrymen, it were a shameful thing in us to yield up suppliant strangers
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at the bidding of Argos. Zeus is on my side, I am not afraid; Zeus hath a favour unto me, as is my due; never by me shall gods be thought weaker than mortal men.
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O dread goddess, thine the soil whereon we stand, thine this city, for thou art its mother, queen, and saviour; wherefore turn some other way the impious king, who leadeth a host
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from Argos with brandished lance against this land; for, such my worth, I little merit exile from my home.
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For thy worship is aye performed with many a sacrifice, and never art thou forgotten as each month draweth to its close,
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when young voices sing and dancers’ music is heard abroad, while on our wind-swept hill goes up the cry of joy to the beat of maidens’ feet by night.
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Mistress, the message that I bring is very short
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for thee to hear and fair for me, who stand before thee, to announce. O’er our foes we are victorious, and trophies are being set up, with panoplies upon them, taken from thy enemies.
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Best of friends! this day hath wrought thy liberty by reason of these tidings.
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But there still remains one anxious thought thou dost not free me from;—a thought of fear;—are those, whose lives I cherish, spared to me?
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They are, and high their fame through all the army spreads.
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The old man Iolaus,—is he yet alive?
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Aye, that he is, a hero whom the gods delight to honour.
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How so? Did he perform some deed of prowess?
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He hath passed from age to youth once more.
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Thy tale is passing strange; but first I would that thou shouldst tell me, how our friends won the day.
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One speech of mine puts it all clearly before thee.
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When we had deployed our troops and marshalled them face to face with one another, Hyllus dismounted from his four-horsed chariot and stood midway betwixt the hosts. Then cried he, Captain, who art come from Argos,
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why cannot we leave this land alone? No hurt wilt thou do Mycenae, if of one man thou rob her; come! meet me in single combat, and, if thou slay me, take the children of Heracles away with thee,
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but, if thou fall, leave me to possess my ancestral honours and my home. The host cried yes! saying the scheme he offered was a fair one, both to rid them of their trouble and satisfy their valour. But that other, feeling no shame before those who heard the challenge or at his own cowardice, quailed, general though he was,
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to come within reach of the stubborn spear, showing himself an abject coward; yet with such a spirit he came to enslave the children of Heracles. Then did Hyllus withdraw to his own ranks again, and the prophets seeing that no reconciliation would be effected by single combat,
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began the sacrifice without delay and forthwith let flow from a human throat auspicious streams of blood. And some were mounting chariots, while others couched beneath the shelter of their shields, and the king of the Athenians,
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as a highborn chieftain should, would exhort his host: Fellow-citizens, the land, that feeds you and that gave you birth, demands to-day the help of every man. Likewise Eurystheus besought his allies that they should scorn to sully the feme of Argos and Mycenae.
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Anon the Etrurian trumpet sounded loud and clear, and hand to hand they rushed; then think how loudly clashed their ringing shields, what din arose of cries and groans confused! At first the onset of the Argive spearmen
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broke our ranks; then they in turn gave ground; next, foot to foot and man to man, they fought their stubborn fray, many falling the while. And either chief cheered on his men, Sons of Athens! Ye who till the fields of Argos!
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ward from your land disgrace. Do all we could, and spite of every effort, scarce could we turn the Argive line in flight. When lo! old Iolaus sees Hyllus starting from the ranks, whereon he lifts his hands to him with a prayer
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to take him up into his chariot. Thereon he seized the reins and went hard after the horses of Eurystheus. From this point onward must I speak from hearsay, though hitherto as one whose own eyes saw. For as he was crossing Pallene’s hill,
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sacred to the goddess Athene, he caught sight of Eurystheus’ chariot, and prayed to Hebe and to Zeus, that for one single day he might grow young again and wreak his vengeance on his foes. Now must thou hear a wondrous tale: two stars settled on the horses’ yokes
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and threw the chariot into dark shadow, which—at least so say our wiser folk—were thy son and Hebe; and from that murky gloom appeared that aged man in the form of a youth with strong young arms; then by the rocks of Sciron
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the hero Iolaus o’ertakes Eurystheus’ chariot. And he bound his hands with gyves, and is bringing that chieftain once so prosperous as a trophy hither, whose fortune now doth preach a lesson, clear as day, to all the sons of men,
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that none should envy him, who seems to thrive, until they see his death; for fortune’s moods last but a day.
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O Zeus, who puttest my foes to flight, now may I behold the day that frees me from cruel fear!

Perseus Greek. CTS URN tlg0006.tlg004.perseus-eng2. Via the Perseus Digital Library / Open Greek and Latin TEI corpora. Licence: Available under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. Source.