am! Whither shall I turn? What can I do? Ah me!
OLD MAN (whispering)

Hush, my son! Rouse not the cruel pain that infuriates thy sire!
He lives, though prostrated. Oh, put a stern restraint upon thy lips!

HYLLUS
How sayest thou, old man- is he alive?

OLD MAN (whispering)
Thou must not awake the slumberer! Thou must not rouse and

revive the dread frenzy that visits him, my son!
HYLLUS

Nay, I am crushed with this weight of misery- there is madness
in my heart!

HERACLES (awaking)
O Zeus, to what land have I come? Who are these among whom I

lie, tortured with unending agonies? Wretched, wretched" target="_blank" title="a.可怜的；倒霉的">wretched that I am! Oh,
that dire pest is gnawing me once more!

OLD MAN (to HYLLUS)
Knew I not how much better it was that thou shouldest keep

silence, instead of scaring slumber from his brain and eyes?
HYLLUS

Nay, I cannot be patient when I behold this misery.
HERACLES

O thou Cenaean rock whereon mine altars rose, what a cruel
reward hast thou won me for those fair offerings,- be Zeus my witness!

Ah, to what ruin hast thou brought me, to what ruin! Would that I
had never beheld thee for thy sorrow! Then had I never come face to

face with this fiery madness, which no spell can soothe! Where is
the charmer, where is the cunning healer, save Zeus alone, that

shall lull this plague to rest? I should marvel, if he ever came
within my ken!

strophe 1
Ah!

Leave me, hapless one, to my rest- leave me to my last rest!
strophe 2

Where art thou touching me? Whither wouldst thou turn me? Thou
wilt kill me, thou wilt kill me! If there be any pang that slumbers,

thou hast aroused it!
It hath seized me,- oh, the pest comes again!- Whence are ye, most

ungrateful of all the Greeks? I wore out my troublous days in
ridding Greece of pests, on the deep and in all forests; and now, when

I am stricken, will no man succour me with merciful fire of sword?
antistrophe 1

Oh, will no one come and sever the head, at one fierce stroke,
from this wretched" target="_blank" title="a.可怜的；倒霉的">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!

antistrophe 3
Sweet Hades, brother of Zeus, give me rest, give me rest,- end

my woe by a swiftly-sped doom!
LEADER OF THE CHORUS

I shudder, friends, to hear these sorrows of our lord; what a
man is here, and what torments afflict him!

HERACLES
Ah, fierce full oft, and grievous not in name alone, have been the

labours of these hands, the burdens borne upon these shoulders! But no
toil ever laid on me by the wife of Zeus or by the hateful

Eurystheus was like unto this thing which the daughter of Oeneus, fair
and false, hath fastened upon my back,- this woven net of the

Furies, in which I perish! Glued to my sides, it hath eaten my flesh
to the inmost parts; it is ever with me, sucking the channels of my

breath; already it hath drained my fresh lifeblood, and my whole
body is wasted, a captive to these unutterable bonds.

Not the warrior on the battle-field, not the Giants' earth-born
host, nor the might of savage beasts, hath ever done unto me thus,-

not Hellas, nor the land of the alien, nor any land to which I have
come as a deliverer: no, a woman, a weak woman, born not to the

strength of man, all alone hath vanquished me, without stroke of sword
Son, show thyself my son indeed, and do not honour a mother's name

above a sire's: bring forth the woman that bare thee, and give her
with thine own hands into my hand, that I may know of a truth which

sight grieves thee most,- my tortured frame, or hers, when she suffers
her righteous doom!

Go, my son, shrink not- and show thy pity for me, whom many
might deem pitiful,- for me, moaning and weeping like a girl;- and the

man lives not who can say that he ever saw me do thus before; no,
without complaining I still went whither mine evil fortune led. But

now, alas, the strong man hath been found a woman.
Approach, stand near thy sire, and see what a fate it is that hath

brought me to this pass; for I will lift the veil. Behold! Look, all
of you, on this miserable body; see how wretched" target="_blank" title="a.可怜的；倒霉的">wretched, how piteous is my

plight!
Ah, woe is me!

The burning throe of torment is there anew, it darts through my
sides- I must wrestle once more with that cruel, devouring plague!

O thou lord of the dark realm, receive me! Smite me, O fire of
Zeus! Hurl down thy thunderbolt, O King, send it, O father, upon my

head! For again the pest is consuming me; it hath blazed forth, it
hath started into fury! O hands, my hands, O shoulders and breast

and trusty arms, ye, now in this plight, are the same whose force of
old subdued the dweller in Nemea, the scourge of herdsmen, the lion, a

creature that no man might approach or confront; ye tamed the Lernaean
Hydra, and that monstrous host of double form, man joined to steed,

a race with whom none may commune, violent, lawless, of surpassing
might; ye tamed the Erymanthian beast, and the three-headed whelp of

Hades underground, a resistless terror, offspring of the dread
Echidna; ye tamed the dragon that guarded the golden fruit in the

utmost places of the earth.
These toils and countless others have I proved, nor hath any man

vaunted a triumph over my prowess. But now, with joints unhinged and
with flesh torn to shreds, I have become the miserable prey of an

unseen destroyer,- I, who am called the son of noblest mother,- I,
whose reputed sire is Zeus, lord of the starry sky.

But ye may be sure of one thing:- though I am as nought, though
I cannot move a step, yet she who hath done this deed shall feel my

heavy hand even now: let her but come, and she shall learn to proclaim
this message unto all, that in my death, as in my life, I chastised

the wicked!
LEADER

Ah, hapless Greece, what mourning do I forsee for her, if she must