Nearer and nearer with ill-omened brands
On funeral pyres enkindled. There I see
Tisiphone with snake-encircled head; 985
With brandished torch she guards the gate of hell,
Now that their watch-dog has been stolen away.
[He catches sight of his children.]
But see where lurk the children of the king,
The impious spawn of Lycus whom I hate.
To your detested sire I'll send you now.
Let darting arrows from my bowstring fly; 990
Such errands fit my noble weapons well.
[He aims an arrow at one of the children.]
Amphitr.: What will he do in his blind passion's rage?
Now he has bent his mighty bow, and now
His quiver loosed. The hissing dart is sped.
Straight through the neck it flies, and leaves the wound.
Hercules: The rest will I hunt out, yea, all that lurk 995
Within this city's walls, without delay.
A greater war against Mycenae waits,
That by my hands those Cyclopean walls
May be o'erthrown; and that the royal hall,
Its high walls shattered, noble roof in-fall'n,
Doors burst, may be to utter ruin brought, 1000
And all its royal secrets be revealed.
[He sees his second son hiding.]
Ah, here I see another hiding son
Of that most wicked sire.
[He seizes the child and drags him from the scene.]
Amphitryon [standing where he can see what is being done behind the
scenes]:
Behold the child,
His coaxing hands stretched out to clasp the knees
Of his mad father, begs with piteous tones.
Oh, crime unspeakable, pathetic, grim:
For by his pleading hand the child is caught, 1005
And, madly whirled again and yet again,
Sent headlong through the air. A sickening sound—
And with his scattered brains the roof is wet.
But wretched Megara, her little son
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The Tragedies of Seneca
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