Hercules Begs for Death and His Fevered Sleep

Hercules: Throw me into [the fire] itself!

Oh companions, [throw me] into the seas and into the middle of rivers—which?

Is the Hister enough for me?

Not Ocean itself, greater than the earth, will break my burning heat; all moisture will fail in my evils, every liquid will dry up.

Why, ruler of Erebus, did you send me back to Jupiter?

It was fitting to hold me; return me to your darkness, show such a Hercules to the conquered underworld.

I will lead nothing away from there; why do you fear Hercules a second time?

Assail me, death, undaunted: now I can die.

Alcmene: Restrain your tears at least, and master your distresses, and restore Hercules unsubdued by such great evils, and defer death: conquer the underworld as you are wont to do.

Hercules: If dreadful Caucasus held me bound by its chains to provide a feast for the greedy bird, while Scythia groaned, a tearful groan from me would not have escaped; if the wandering Symplegades crushed me with both their cliffs, threatening I would bear the ruins of them returning together; let Pindus weigh upon me, and Haemus, and Athos which breaks the Thracian waves, and Mimas, which receives the thunderbolt of Jupiter: not even if this very universe should collapse upon me, mother, and, set on fire, the Phoeban axis should blaze over my bed, would a cry, degenerate to the mind of Hercules, subdue me; let a thousand beasts run down at once and tear me together; from here let the ethereal Stymphalian bird with wild clangor, from there let the threatening bull strike me with his whole neck, and whatever huge beast there was on the earth as well; let a forest rise on this side and that, and let hard Sinis bend and release [the trees] to tear my limbs: scattered in pieces, I will keep silent—neither beasts nor weapons will wrench a groan from me, nor anything that can be driven.

Alcmene: It is not a woman's poison, son, that burns your limbs, but the hard sequence of labors, and perhaps long toil nourished bloody diseases for you.

Hercules: Where is the disease, where indeed is it? Is there still any evil left in the world with me?

Let it come; let someone aim a bow at me here: my bare hand will suffice.

Come, let it step forward here!

Alcmene: Woe is me!

Too much pain has shaken even his senses from him by its onset.

Remove, I beg, his weapons, and I pray, snatch away the dangerous arrows from here: his cheeks, suffused with fire, threaten some crime; what hiding place shall I, an old woman, seek?

That pain of his is madness: it alone subdues Hercules.

Why then should I, frantic, seek hiding places or flight?

Alcmene deserved to die by a brave hand: let her perish even by a crime, before some cowardly and base hand inflicts death on me, or a vile hand triumphs over me.

Behold, exhausted by evils, pain binds his weary veins in sleep, and shakes his panting breast with heavy throb.

Be favorable, gods above: if you denied me, a wretched mother, an unharmed son, at least preserve the avenger for the earth, I pray; let his pain be driven away and depart, and let the body of Hercules recover its strength.

Hyllus: Alas, bitter light! Alas, day capable of [bearing] crimes!

The daughter-in-law of the Thunderer has died, his son lies low, I, the grandson, survive; he perishes by a mother's crime, she was caught by a trick—who, through the changes of years and in a whole lifetime, though an old man, could relate such great distresses?

A single day has snatched away both parents; though I remain silent about other evils and spare the fates: I am losing my father Hercules.

Alcmene: Restrain your voice, renowned offspring of Alcides, and grandson similar in fate to wretched Alcmene: perhaps a long sleep will conquer his pain.

But behold, quietness deserts his weary mind, and restores his body to the disease, and grief to me.

Hercules: What is this? They are stiff! Trachis is seen on its ridge, lo, placed among the stars, I have escaped at last the mortal race. Who prepares heaven for me?

You, yes you, father, I now see; and I behold also my stepmother appeased.

What heavenly sound strikes our ears? Juno calls me her son-in-law.

I see the shining palace of the bright ether and the path worn by Phoebus' flaming wheel.

I see the couch of Night; from here darkness flies.

What is this? Who closes the citadel and leads me down, father, from the very stars? Just now the Phoeban chariot was breathing on my face, I was already close to heaven— I see Trachis; who gave me back to the earth?

Mount Oeta had just stood below me, and the whole world was placed beneath me; how well you had slipped away, pain!

You force me to confess [it]—spare me, and prevent this voice.

This, Hyllus, the gifts of your mother, this present prepares [for me].