Hercules Furens: Act II

Megara: O mighty ruler of Olympus' heights,Thou judge of all the world, now set at lengthA limit to my cares, and make an endOf my disasters. No untroubled dayDoth dawn for me; but one misfortune's endMarks but the starting-point of future woes.Fresh foes are ready for my HerculesStraightway on his return; ere he can reachHis happy home, another warfare bidsThat he set forth again. No time for restIs given, save while he waits a fresh command.'Twas ever thus: from earliest infancyUnfriendly Juno follows on his track.Was e'en his cradle free from her assaults?He conquered monsters ere he learned to knowWhat monsters were. Two crested serpents hugeAgainst him reared their heads; the dauntless childCrawled forth to meet them, and, with placid gazeIntently fixed upon their fiery eyes,With fearless look he raised their close-coiled folds,And crushed their swollen necks with tender hand.And thus he practiced for the hydra's death.He caught the nimble stag of Maenalus,Its beauteous head adorned with horns of gold.The lion, terror of Nemean woods,Groaned out his life beneath the mighty armsOf Hercules. Why should I call to mindThe stables dire of that Bistonian herd,And the king as food to his own horses given?The rough Maenalian boar, which, from his lairOn Erymanthus' thickly wooded heights,Filled all the groves of Arcady with dread?Or that fell Cretan bull whose terror filledA hundred towns? Among his herds remote,The three-formed shepherd by Tartessus' shoreWas slain, and from the farthest west his herdsWere driven as booty. Now Cithaeron feedsThe cattle once to Ocean known. Again,When bidden to penetrate the sultry zoneOf summer's burning sun, those scorchéd realmsWhich midday parches with its piercing rays,He clove the ponderous mountain barriers,And made a pathway for the rushing sea.He next assailed the rich Hesperides,And bore therefrom the watchful dragon's spoilOf golden fruit. Then Lerna's savage beast,An evil creature constantly renewed,Did he not overcome by fire at last,And teach it how to die? Did he not seekWithin the clouds the dire Stymphalian birds,Whose spreading wings were wont to obscure the day?He was not conquered by the maiden queenWho ruled the Amazons and ever keptHer couch in virgin state. Nor did his hands,Courageous to attempt all glorious deeds,Disdain to cleanse the vile Augean stalls.But what avail these toils? For he aloneCannot enjoy the world he saved. And nowThe world perceives the giver of its peaceIs absent from its sight. Now prosperous crimeIs called by virtue's name; good men obeyThe guilty, might is counted right, and fearO'ershadows law. Before my eyes I sawThe sons who dared defend their father's throneFall dead beneath the tyrant's murderous hand;I saw King Creon's self by death o'ercome,The latest son of Cadmus' noble line;And with his head the royal diademWas reft away. Who now could weep enoughFor Thebes? Proud land and mother of the gods,What master fears she now, she, from whose fieldsAnd fertile bosom sprang that band of youthWith swords all ready drawn; whose mighty wallsAmphion, son of Jove, once built, its stonesCompelling by the magic of his lyre;Down to whose citadel not once aloneThe father of the gods from heaven came?This royal city which the immortals oftHas entertained, which has divinitiesProduced, and (heaven forgive the boastful word)Perchance will yet produce, is now oppressedBeneath a shameful yoke. O royal raceOf Cadmus, noble state Amphion ruled,Low hast thou fallen indeed! Dost thou obeyA low-born exile, driven from his landAnd yet oppressing ours? And now, alas,He, who on land and sea doth punish crime,Who breaks all cruel rule with righteous hand,Far off obeys another, and himselfEndures those ills from which he others saved;And Lycus rules the Thebes of Hercules!But not for long; he soon will come again,And punish all the wrongs; he suddenlyWill to the upper world emerge; a wayHe'll find--or make. Oh, come unharmed, I pray;As victor come at last unto thy homeWhich now in ruins lies. O husband, come,With thy strong hand break through the shades of hell.And if no way is open, if the roadIs closely barred, then rend the earth and come;And all that lies in keep of dismal nightBring forth with thee. As once, through riven hillsA passage seeking for a headlong stream,Thou stood'st, and, with thy strength gigantic cleft,The vale of Tempe opened wide; as then,Impelled by might of thy resistless breast,The mountains fell away from either side,And through the broken masses poured the streamOf Thessaly along a channel new:So now to parents, children, native land,A passage burst. And bring away with theeThe shapes of death, and all that greedy timeThrough countless rounds of years has hidden away;Those nations who have drunk forgetfulness,Drive out before thee, fearful of the light.The spoils are all unworthy of thy fame,If thou shouldst bring from hades only thatWhich was commanded. But too bold my words,And thoughtless of my present lot I speak.Oh, when will come at last that day for meWhen I shall clasp my husband once again,And weep no more his long-delayed return,His long forgetfulness of me? To thee,O ruler of the gods, a hundred bullsShall bleed; to thee, thou goddess of the fruits,Thy secret rites I'll pay: for thee shall blazeUpon Eleusin's shrine the sacred torchIn celebration of thy mysteries.Then shall I think my brothers' lives restored,My father once again upon his throne.But if some power more potent than thine ownHolds thee in durance, we shall come to thee.Return in safety and protect us all,Or drag us down with thee. This wilt thou do;No god will e'er our broken fortunes mend.

Amphitr.: O ally of my house, with wifely faithPreserving for the great-souled HerculesHis couch and children, be of better mind.Take heart again, for surely he will come,Increased in fame by this, as is his wontBy other tasks.

Megara: What wretched men desireThey readily believe.

Amphitryon: Nay, what they fearThey think can never be escaped or borne.For fear is prone to see the darker side.

Megara: Submerged, deep buried, crushed beneath the world,What chance has he to reach the upper realms?

Amphitr.: The same he had, when, through the arid plain,And sands that billowed like the stormy sea,Those twice receding, twice returning gulfs,He made his way; when on the dangerous shoalsOf Syrtes he was wrecked, he left his shipA helpless hulk and crossed the sea on foot.

Megara: Unjust is fortune, rarely does she spareThe bravest souls. No one with safety longCan brave so frequent perils; he who oftHas shunned misfortune meets at last his fate.But see, with threatening looks fierce Lycus comes,His hateful soul in hateful bearing shown,And bears the stolen scepter in his hand.

Lycus: The rich domain of this proud town of Thebes,With all the fertile soil which Phocis boundsWithin its winding borders, all the landIsmenus waters; all Cithaeron seesFrom his high top; the narrow Isthmus, too,Two seas asunder cleaving: all I own,Not by prerogative of long descent,A worthless heir. No noble ancestors,Nor family adorned with lofty namesHave I; but splendid valor. He who boastsHis noble ancestry exalts a thingWhich is not his to boast. But power usurpedIs held with anxious hands; the sword aloneCan guard it. All thou hold'st against the willOf citizens the sword must hold for thee.No kingdom built upon a foreign soilIs safe for long. One thing alone I seeWhich can our power establish--Megara,By ties of royal marriage bound to me.From her illustrious line my humble bloodShall a richer hue derive. Nor do I thinkThat she will scorn me and refuse my suit.But should she with a blind and stubborn soulRefuse my proffered hand, my mind is fixedTo give to utter ruin all the houseOf Hercules. Will such a deed arouseA storm of scandal and the people's hate?The art of ruling chiefly lies in this:The power to bear the people's hate unmoved.Let me make trial then. Occasion smiles,For she herself, in mourning vestments clad,Stands by the altars of her guardian gods,While near at hand Alcides' father waits.

Megara [seeing Lycus, aside]: What new outrage does yonderwretch prepare,The pestilent destroyer of our race?

Lycus: O thou, who bear'st a name illustriousFrom royal stock, with patient ear awhileReceive my words. If everlasting hateThe hearts of men should feel, if fury dire,Once in the heart conceived, should never cease;If prosperous men must ever fight to rule,And those who fail obey because they must:Then never-ending wars would nothing leave,And all the fields would be a barren waste;Homes would be burned, and 'neath their ashes deepAll nations of the earth would be o'erwhelmed.The victor's profit is in peace restored,But for the vanquished 'tis their direful need.Come, share my throne; let us unite our wills.And, as my pledge of faith, receive my hand.But why dost thou in scornful silence wait?

Megara: And dost thou think that I would touch the handThat is besprinkled with my father's gore,And my two brothers' blood? Oh, sooner farShall day's last beams go out in eastern skies,And dawn break in the west; sooner shall peaceBe made 'twixt snow and flame, and Scylla joinSicilia's shores with those of Italy;And sooner shall Euripus' rushing wavesLap peacefully upon Euboea's shores.My father and my brothers hast thou slain,My kingdom ruined, home and native land.What still is left? One thing remains to me,That's dearer than my father, brother, home,And kingdom: 'tis my deadly hate of thee.That I must share this with the land at largeIs grief to me. For in their cause for hateHow small a share have I? Thou, swollen with pride,Rule on, and let thy soul exalt itself;But know that evermore the avenging godPursues the proud of heart. Well do I knowThe history of Thebes. Why need I tellOf matrons who have dared and suffered wrong?Why name the double crime, the mingled namesOf husband, father, son, the opposing campsOf brothers? Why describe the funeral pyres?The haughty mother, child of Tantalus,Still sits in stony grief; the mourning rockOn Phrygian Sipylus still drips with tears.Nay, Cadmus' self, in form of serpent, stillFlees through Illyria's realm with crested head,And leaves behind his dragging body's trail.Such fates admonish thee. Rule as thou wilt:But may the accustomed doom of Thebes be thine.

Lycus: Come then, have done with this wild talk of thine,And learn from Hercules to obey the willOf kings. Although by right of victoryI wield this scepter, though I reign supremeWithout the fear of laws which arms annul,Still will I briefly speak in my defense.And did thy father fall in bloody war?Thy brothers too? But arms no limit know,Cannot be checked with ease, nor can the sword,Once drawn, restrain its wrath. War will have blood.But (you will say), he fought to save his state,While I was prompted by the lust of power.Still we should look, not at the cause of war,But at its outcome. Now let memoryOf all the former wrongs pass from thy heart.When the victor lays aside his arms, 'tis meetThe vanquished should abandon hatred too.I ask thee not upon thy bended kneesTo acknowledge me as king; for it is wellThat thou shouldst meet thy ruin dauntlessly.Lo, thou art worthy of a royal mate:Be then my wife and not my enemy.

Megara: Cold horror creeps throughout my lifeless limbs.What shameful proposition do I hear?I did not shrink when loud alarms of warRang round our city's walls; and all my woesI've bravely borne. But marriage--and with him!Now do I think myself indeed a slave.Load down my tender frame with heavy chains;Be lingering death by long starvation sought;Still shall no power o'ercome my wifely faith.I shall be thine, Alcides, to the death.Lycus: Such spirits does a buried husband give?

Megara: He went below that he might reach the heavens.

Lycus: The boundless weight of earth oppresses him.

Megara: No weight of earth can overwhelm the manWho bore the heavens up.Megara: He can be forced who knows not how to die.

Lycus: Tell me what gift I could bestow more richThan royal wedlock?

Lycus: Then die, thou fool.

Lycus: Is that slave more to thee, than I, a king?

Megara: How many kings has that slave given to death!

Lycus: Why does he serve a king, and bear the yoke?

Megara: Remove hard tasks, and where would valor be?

Lycus: To conquer monsters call'st thou valor then?

Megara: 'Tis valor to subdue what all men fear.

Lycus: The shades of hades hold that boaster fast.

Megara: No easy way leads from the earth to heaven.

Lycus: Who is his father, that he hopes for heaven?

Amphitr.: Unhappy wife of mighty Hercules,Be silent now, for 'tis my part to tellAlcides' parentage. After his deeds,So many and so great; after the world,From rising unto setting of the sun,Has been subdued, so many monsters tamed;After the giants' impious blood was spilledIn Phlegra's vale, and gods were reinforced,What need we yet to prove his parentage?Do we make false pretense of Jupiter?Then Juno's hate believe.

Lycus: Why blaspheme Jove?The race of mortals cannot mate with gods.

Amphitr.: Such is the origin of many gods.

Lycus: But were they slaves before their heaven was gained?

Amphitr.: The Delian at Pherae kept the flocks.

Lycus: But he did not in exile roam the world.

Amphitr.: His mother bore him in a roaming land,Herself a fugitive.

Lycus: Did Phoebus fearWild beasts and monsters?

Amphitr.: Yes, in dragon's bloodHis earliest shafts were stained.

Lycus: Thou knowest notWhat heavy ills the young Alcides bore.

Amphitr.: But Bacchus by a thunderbolt was rippedFrom out his mother's womb; and yet he stoodIn after time beside the Thunderer,His sire. Nay, Jove himself, who rules the starsAnd drives the clouds, did he not lie concealed,In helpless infancy in Ida's cave?A heavy price must so high lineage pay,And suffering is the birthright of a god.

Lycus: Whoe'er is wretched, thou wouldst mortal know.

Amphitr.: Whoe'er is brave, thou wouldst not wretched call.

Lycus: But is he brave, from whose broad shoulders fellThe lion's skin and club, that they might beA maiden's plaything? Who himself shone brightIn Tyrian vestments? Should we call him brave,Whose bristling locks were wet with fragrant nard,Whose famous hands in woman's wise essayedTo play the tambour; on whose frowning browThe Phrygian turban shamelessly was worn?

Amphitr.: But youthful Bacchus did not blush to wearHis locks in flowing ringlets, in his handThe thyrsus light to brandish, as he walkedWith steps unsteady, clad in trailing robesBright with barbaric gold. 'Tis virtue's rightIn foolishness to ease the strain of toil.

Lycus: 'Twas for this cause the house of EurytusWas overthrown, and troops of maidens slainLike helpless sheep! No Juno ordered this,Nor yet Eurystheus: these his works alone.

Amphitr.: Thou know'st not all his deeds: it was his workThat Eryx fell, by his own gauntlets slain;That in his death Antaeus, too, was joined;That those foul altars, dripping with the bloodOf hapless strangers, drank the blood at lastOf murderous Busiris. 'Twas his workThat Cycnus, proof against the sword, was slain,Though still unwounded; by his hand aloneThe threefold Geryon fell. And thou shalt beAs one of these, though they ne'er basely sinnedAgainst the rites of marriage.

Lycus: What to JoveIs lawful, is my kingly right as well.A wife thou gav'st to him; so for thy kingShalt thou a mate provide. Now MegaraFrom thine example shall the lesson learn,Not new, that wives may yield to better men,When husbands give consent. But if, self-willed,She still refuse to take me for her lord,I'll force her will to bear me noble seed.

Megara: Ye shades of Creon, and ye household godsOf Labdacus, ye impious nuptial firesOf Oedipus, your wonted fortune giveTo this our union! O ye savage wivesOf king Aegyptus' sons, be present now,With blood-stained hands. Your count is incomplete.I gladly will that impious number fill.

Lycus: Since thou dost stubbornly refuse my suit,And striv'st to fright the king, now shalt thou feelThe strength of royal power. Cling as thou maystTo altar horns: no god shall save thee nowFrom me; not though the earth itself be rent,And Hercules victorious come againUnto the upper world.Heap high the logs,And let the sacred temple blazing fallUpon its suppliants. Now let the wifeAnd all her brood upon the funeral pyreBe burned to ashes in the kindling flames.

Amphitr.: This boon Alcides' father asks of thee,Which fits me well, that I be first to die.

Lycus: Who bids all men meet punishment with deathKnows not the ruler's art. Seek varied pains;Forbid the wretch to die, the happy slay.Now, while the pyre is growing for the flames,I'll pay my vows unto the ocean's god.

Amphitr.: O god of gods, O ruler of the skies,Whose hurtling bolts make mortals quake with fear,Check thou the impious hand of this dire king.Why do I vainly importune the gods?Where'er thou art, hear thou and answer, son.But why this sudden rocking of the shrine?Why groans the earth? Far in her lowest holdA crashing deep resounds. Our prayer is heard!It is, it is the step of Hercules!

Chorus: O Fortune, envious of the brave,Unjustly are thy prizes given!Behold Eurystheus reigns at ease,While our Alcmena's noble son,With hands which could the heavens uplift,Must endless wars with monsters wage;Must sever the hydra's teeming necks,And from the cheated sisters bearThe apples, when the dragon huge,The guardian of the golden fruit,Had given to sleep his watchful eyes.To the wandering homes of Scythia,Where tribes in their ancestral seatsAs strangers dwell, he made his way.He trod the frozen ocean's crust,A still sea hemmed by silent shores;There no waves beat on the rigid plains,And where but now full swelling sailsHad sped their barks, a path is wornBy the long-haired Sarmatae.There the waters change with the changing year,Now ships, now horses bearing up.From the queen who rules o'er virgin tribes,With golden girdles on their loins,He took her body's noble spoil,Her shield and her snowy bosom's guard.On bended knee she acknowledged him victor.With what hope, driven to the depths of hell,Bold to tread irretraceable ways,Didst thou behold the dusky realmsOf Proserpine of Sicily?There Notus and Favonius lashNo seas to rage with swelling floods;There do no frightened vessels findHelp from the twin Tyndaridae.Those waters lie in stagnant poolsAnd black; and when, with greedy teeth,Pale Death bears off uncounted tribesUnto the shades, one oarsman grimBears all across their gloomy depths.Oh, that the laws of cruel StyxThou mightst annul, and the distaff break,Relentless, of the fates. And lo,Thou canst avail, for he who rulesO'er many nations once with theeHis deadly hands in battle joined,When thou didst wage 'gainst Nestor's landA mighty war. A three-pronged spearHe bore; but soon, by but a woundO'ercome, he fled. He feared to die,Though lord of death. Burst with thy handsThe bonds of fate. To those sad soulsIn hell let in the light of day,And to the upper world revealAn easy path. Once, by his songsAnd suppliant prayers, did Orpheus bendThe stubborn lords of hell, when heHis lost Eurydice would seek.That art which drew the forest trees,Which held the birds and rocks enthralled,Which stopped the river's headlong race,And tamed the hearts of savage beasts,Soothed with its strains ne'er heard beforeThose darksome realms, and clear and fineResounded through that silent land.Eurydice the Thracian damesBewailed; Eurydice, the gods,Who ne'er had wept before; and theyWho with forbidding, awful brows,In judgment sit and hear the crimesLong since committed, unconfessed,They sat and wept Eurydice,Until the lord of death exclaimed:"We grant thy prayer. Away to earth;But on this sole condition go:Do thou behind thy husband fare;And look thou not upon thy wife,Until the light of day thou see,And Spartan Taenarus appear."Love hates delay, nor suffers it:He hasted to behold his wife--And she again was lost to him.So, then, the fortress that could yield to song,Be sure that fortress shall to strength belong.