University of Virginia Library

A Speech of HERCULES,

From the Trachiniæ of Sophocles.

Ye Gods, what scorching Pain, and sharpest Torments
Rend my whole Frame, and prey upon my Heart!
Nor fell Eurystheus, nor the Wife of Jove
Cou'd wish me Anguish great as that I feel
From the dire Charms of Æneus' cursed Daughter.
Fast to my Sides the burning Garment cleaves,
Corrupts my Flesh, and Feeds upon my Lungs,
Dwells in my Veins, and Taints my circling Blood.
Nor this the Sword, or warlike Spear perform'd,
Nor the strong Force of Earth's gygantick Brood;
Nor the fell Monster's Tooth, nor armed Rage
Of Greece or Barbary; but by an unarm'd Hand
A feeble Woman's treachery I die.
My Son, be Hercules thy only Parent,
Nor view with Love, thy ruthless Mother more;
But give her to my Arms that long for Vengeance,
And show thy Father's Woes afflict thee more
Than the just Sufferings of her that bore thee.
Dare to compassionate thy wretched Sire,
Whom all with pity view; whose steady Soul
Each Stroke of hard Adversity cou'd bear:
Who boldly stemm'd Affliction's roughest Tide,
Nor e'er was known to Shrink; yet now he sighs,
And with inglorious Weepings Plays the Woman.
Come near, my Boy, see where the poisn'ous Texture
Eats through my Flesh! Oh Pow'r of pain unspeakable!
Oh force of bitt'rest Woe! Thou gloomy KING
Of black Avernus, call me to thy Realms;
Fall, Thou red Light'ning, on this cursed Head:
Great Jove, at me direct thy hottest Bolt,
For Oh! Thy choicest Thunders ne'er can match
The fierce corroding Flames that gnaw my Vitals,
That rend each Art'ry of this lab'ring Breast,
That shoot thro' all my Limbs;—Are these the Hands,
By which the dreadful Nemean Lion fell?
Which spoil'd of all her Lives, the sprouting Hydra,
By which the Centaur's formidable Band,
And the fierce Boar of Erymanthus perish'd,
That dragg'd the triple Cerberus from Hell,
And on Earth's confines, slew the guardian Dragon?
Ten Thousand other Toils have I Surmounted,
Yet none from me, in War e'er gain'd a Laurel.