Chorus That murder wrought by the daughters of Danaus, which the rock of Argos keeps, was once the most famous and notorious in Hellas; but this has surpassed, has outrun those former horrors . . . for the unhappy son of Zeus. I could tell of the murder done by Procne, mother of an only child, offered to the Muses; but you had three children, wretched parent, and all of them have you in your frenzy slain. Alas! What groans or wails, what funeral dirge, or dance of death am I to raise? Ah, ah! see, the bolted doors of the lofty palace are being rolled apart. Ah me! see the wretched children lying before their unhappy father, who is sunk in dreadful slumber after shedding their blood. Round him are bonds and cords, made fast with many knots about the body of Heracles, and lashed to the stone columns of his house.
Chorus Leader But he, the aged father, like mother-bird wailing her unfledged brood, comes hastening here with halting steps on his bitter journey.
Amphitryon Softly, softly! you aged sons of Thebes, let him sleep on and forget his sorrows.
Chorus For you, old friend, I weep and mourn, for the children too and that victorious chief.
Amphitryon Stand further off, make no noise nor outcry, do not rouse him from his calm deep slumber.
Chorus O horrible! all this blood—
Amphitryon Hush, hush! you will be my ruin.
Chorus That he has spilled is rising up against him.
Amphitryon Gently raise your dirge of woe, old friends; or he will wake, and, bursting his bonds, destroy the city, rend his father, and dash his house to pieces.
Chorus I cannot, cannot—
Amphitryon Hush! let me note his breathing; come, let me put my ear close.
Chorus Is he sleeping?
Amphitryon Yes, he is sleeping, a deadly sleepless sleep, having slain wife and children with the arrows of his twanging bow.
Chorus Ah! mourn—
Amphitryon Indeed I do.
Chorus The children’s death—
Amphitryon Ah me!
Chorus And your own son’s doom.
Amphitryon Alas!
Chorus Old friend—
Amphitryon Hush! hush! he is turning over, he is waking! Oh! let me hide myself, concealed beneath the roof.
Chorus Courage! darkness still holds your son’s eye.
Amphitryon Oh beware! it is not that I shrink from leaving the light after my miseries, poor wretch! but if should he slay me, his father, then he will be devising mischief on mischief, and to the avenging curse will add a parent’s blood.
Chorus Well for you if you had died in that day, when, for your wife, you went forth to exact vengeance for her slain brothers by sacking the Taphians’ sea-beat town.
Amphitryon Fly, fly, my aged friends, from before the palace, escape his waking fury. Or soon he will heap up fresh slaughter on the old, ranging wildly once more through the streets of Thebes.
Chorus Leader O Zeus, why have you shown such savage hate against your own son and plunged him in this sea of troubles?
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