Chorus
You, to whom Night gives birth when she is vanquished and despoiled of her starry crown, and whom, as you blaze, she lays to rest, I pray you, O Sun, Sun, tell me, where is Alcmena’s son, where dwells her child? O Shining god with your bright flash, is he on the straits of the sea, or does he lean upon the twin continents? Speak, you who surpass all in sight!
Chorus
For with longing heart, as I hear, Deianeira, the battle-prize, now, like some mournful bird, never rests her eyes’ longing that they might be without tears, but nourishing a well-remembered fear for her husband’s travels she is constantly afflicted by her anxious, widowed marriage-bed and in her misery anticipates misfortune.
Chorus
For just as one may see billow after billow advancing and passing over the wide deep before the tireless south-wind, or the north, so the great toil of his life, stormy as the Cretan sea, now whirls back the heir of Cadmus, now exalts him. But some god always keeps him unerring from the house of Hades.
Chorus
With respect I reproach you for your weeping, but still I will speak in dissent. You must not, I say, wear away fair hope. Remember that the all-accomplishing king, the son of Cronus, does not appoint a painless lot for mortals. Sorrow and joy revolve to all, as the stars of the Bear move in their circling paths.
Chorus
Starry night does not remain constant with men, nor does tribulation, nor wealth; in a moment it is gone from us, and to another in his turn come both gladness and bereavement. So I urge even you, our Queen, to keep these matters firmly in your outlook. You must, for who has known Zeus to be so without care for his children?
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