THE BOOK WAS DRENCHED - OUDL Home

CHORUS (singing)
That murder wrought by the daughters of Danaus, whereof my
native Argos wots, was formerly the most famous and notorious in
Hellas; but this hath surpassed and outdone those previous horrors.
I could tell of the murder of that poor son of Zeus, whom Procne,
mother of an only child, slew and offered to the Muses; 2 but thou
hadst three children, wretched parent, and all of them hast thou in
thy frenzy slain. What groans or wails, what funeral dirge, or chant
of death am I to raise? Alas and woe! see, the bolted doors of the
lofty palace are being rolled apart. Ah me! behold these children
lying dead before their wretched father, who is sunk in awful slumber
after shedding their blood. Round him are bonds and cords,
made fast with many a knot about the body of Heracles, and lashed
to the stone columns of his house. While he, the aged sire, like
mother-bird wailing her unfledged brood, comes hasting hither with
halting steps on his bitter journey.
(The central doors of the palace have opened and have disclosed
HERACLES lying asleep, bound to a shattered column. AMPHIT­
RYON steps out. The following lines between AMPHITRYON and
the CHORUS are chanted responsively.)
AMPHITRYON
Softly, softly! ye aged sons of Thebes, let him sleep on and forget
his sorrows.
CHORUS
For thee, old friend, I weep and mourn, for the children too and
that victorious chief.
AMPHITRYON
Stand further off, make no noise nor outcry, rouse him not from
his calm deep slumber.
CHORUS
O horrible! all this blood—
AMPHITRYON
Hush, hush! ye will be my ruin.
CHORUS
That he has spilt is rising up against him.
AMPHITRYON
Gently raise your dirge of woe, old friends; lest he wake, and,
bursting his bonds, destroy the city, rend his sire, and dash his
house to pieces.