To show themselves forth-coming from these halls, 705
By your self-tendered covenant to die.
Amphitryon.
King, thou dost trample on my misery:
Thou heapest insult on the heart bereaved.
So strong and so impatient fits not thee.
But, since of force thou doomest me to die, 710
Of force must I content me and do thy will.
Lykus.
And Megara, and Alkmena's son's brood—where?
Amphitryon.
I think that she—if one without may guess—
Lykus.
What now?—for this thy thinking hast thou ground?
Amphitryon.
Sits suppliant at the holy altar-steps,— 715
Lykus.
With bootless prayer to heaven to save her life!
Amphitryon.
And vainly calleth on a husband dead.
Lykus.
Not here is he; nor shall he ever come.
Amphitryon.
Never,—except by a God raised from the dead.
