Lycus Say what you will of me in your exalted phrase, but I by deeds will make you rue those words. Go, some to Helicon, others to the glens of Parnassus, and bid woodmen to cut me logs of oak, and when they are brought to the town, pile up a stack of wood all round the altar on either side, and set fire to it and burn them all alive, that they may learn that the dead no longer rules this land, but that for the present I am king. As for you, old men, since you thwart my views, not for the children of Heracles alone shall you lament, but likewise for your own misfortunes, and you shall never forget you are slaves and I your prince.
Chorus —You sons of Earth, whom Ares once sowed, when from the dragon’s ravening jaw he had torn the teeth, up with your staves, on which you lean your hands, and dash out this villain’s brains! a fellow who, without even being a Theban, but a foreigner, lords it shamefully over the younger men; but my master shall you never be to your joy. —Nor shall you reap the harvest of all my toil; Go back to where you came from, in your insolence. For never while I live, shall you slay these sons of Heracles; not so deep beneath the earth has their father disappeared from his children’s ken. —You are in possession of this land which you have ruined, while he, its benefactor, has missed his just reward. —And yet do I take too much upon myself because I help those I love after their death, when most they need a friend? —Ah! right hand, how you desire to wield the spear, but your weakness is a death-blow to your desire. For then I would have stopped you calling me slave, and I would have governed Thebes with credit. In which you now rejoice; for a city sick with dissension and evil counsels does not think aright; otherwise it would never have accepted you as its master.