Stasimon 6
[Episode]
Give them burial, and lay them out in death with the tribute of a tear, for the law forbids my doing so. Rest their heads upon their mother’s bosom and fold them in her arms, sad fellowship, which I, alas! unwittingly did slay. And when you have buried these dead,
1360
Heracles
live on here still, in bitterness maybe, but still constrain your soul to share my sorrows. O children! he who begot you, your own father, has been your destroyer, and you have had no profit of my triumphs, all my restless toil to win for you by force
1365
a fair name, a glorious advantage from a father. You too, unhappy wife, this hand has slain, a poor return to make you for preserving the honor of my bed so safely, for all the weary watch you long have kept within my house. Alas for you, my wife, my sons! alas for me,
1370
how sad my lot, cut off from wife and child! Ah! these kisses, bitter-sweet! these weapons which it is pain to own! I am not sure whether to keep or let them go; dangling at my side they thus will say,
1375
With us you destroyed children and wife; we are your children’s slayers, and you keep us. Shall I carry them after that? what answer can I make? Yet, am I to strip myself of these weapons, the comrades of my glorious career in Hellas, and put myself in the power of my foes, to die a death of shame?
1380
No! I must not let them go, but keep them, though it grieves me. In one thing, Theseus, help my misery; come to Argos and help me to manage the conveyance of the wretched dog; lest, if I go all alone, my sorrow for my sons may do me some hurt.
1385
O land of Cadmus, and all you people of Thebes!
cut off your hair, and mourn with me; go to my children’s burial, and with one dirge lament us all, the dead and me; for on all of us has Hera inflicted the same cruel blow of destruction.
1390
Theseus
Rise, unhappy man! you have had your fill of tears.
Heracles
I cannot rise; my limbs are rooted here.
1395
Theseus
Yes, even the strong are overthrown by misfortunes.
Heracles
Ah! Would I could become a stone upon this spot, oblivious of trouble.
Theseus
Peace! give your hand to a friend and helper.
Heracles
No, let me not wipe off the blood upon your robe.
Theseus
Wipe it off and spare not; I will not refuse you.
1400
Heracles
Bereft of my own sons, I find you as a son to me.
Theseus
Throw your arm about my neck; I will be your guide.
Heracles
A pair of friends indeed, but one a man of sorrows. Ah! aged father, this is the kind of man to make a friend.
Amphitryon
Blessed in her sons, the country that gave him birth!
1405
Heracles
Theseus, turn me back again to see my children.
