Courage, old men! she, whom you see, is Madness, daughter of Night, and I am Iris, the handmaid of the gods. We have not come to do your city any hurt, but against the house of one man only is our warfare, even against him whom they call the son of Zeus and Alcmena. For until he had finished all his grievous toils, Destiny was preserving him, nor would father Zeus ever suffer me or Hera to harm him. But now that he hath accomplished the labours of Eurystheus, Hera is minded to brand him with the guilt of shedding kindred blood by slaying his own children, and I am one with her. Come then, maid unwed, child of murky Night, harden thy heart relentlessly, send forth frenzy upon him, confound his mind even to the slaying of his children, drive him, goad him wildly on his mad career, shake out the sails of death, that when he has sent o'er Acheron's ferry that fair group of children by his own murderous hand, he may learn to know how fiercely against him the wrath of Hera burns and may also experience mine; otherwise, if he escape punishment, the gods will become as naught, while man's power will grow.
MADNESS
Of noble parents was I born, the daughter of Night, sprung from the blood of Uranus; and these prerogatives I hold, not to use them in anger against friends, nor have I any joy in visiting the homes of men; and fain would I counsel Hera, before I see her err, and thee too, if ye will hearken to my words. This man, against whose house thou art sending me, has made himself a name alike in heaven and earth; for, after taming pathless wilds and raging sea, he by his single might raised up again the honours of the gods when sinking before man's impiety; wherefore I counsel thee, do not wish him dire mishaps.
IRIS
Spare us thy advice on Hera's and my schemes.
MADNESS
I seek to turn thy steps into the best path instead of into this one of evil.
IRIS
'Twas not to practice self-control that the wife of Zeus sent thee hither.
MADNESS
I call the sun-god to witness that herein I am acting against my will; but if indeed I must forthwith serve thee and Hera and follow you in full cry as hounds follow the huntsman, why go I will; nor shall ocean with its moaning waves, nor the earthquake, nor the thunderbolt with blast of agony be half so furious as the headlong rush I will make into the breast of Heracles; through his roof will I burst my way and swoop upon his house, after first slaying his children; nor shall their murderer know that he is killing his own-begotten babes, till he is released from my madness. Behold him!
see how even now he is wildly tossing his head at the outset, and rolling his eyes fiercely from side to side without word; nor can he control his panting breath; but like a bull in act to charge, he bellows fearfully, calling on the goddesses of nether hell. Soon will I rouse thee to yet wilder dancing and sound a note of terror in thine ear. Soar away, O Iris, to Olympus on thy honoured course;while I unseen will steal into the halls of Heracles.
(IRIS and MADNESS vanish.)
CHORUS (chanting)
Alas! alas! lament, O city; the son of Zeus, thy fairest bloom, is being cut down.
Woe is thee, Hellas! that wilt cast from thee thy benefactor, and destroy him as he madly, wildly dances where no pipe is heard.
She is mounted on her car, the queen of sorrow and sighing, and is goading on her steeds, as if for outrage, the Gorgon child of Night, with hundred hissing serpent-heads, Madness of the flashing eyes.
Soon hath the god changed his good fortune; soon will his children breathe their last, slain by a father's hand.
Ah me! alas! soon will vengeance, mad, relentless, lay low by cruel death thy unhappy son, O Zeus, exacting a full penalty.
Alas, O house! the fiend begins her dance of death without the cymbal's crash, with no glad waving of the wine-god's staff.
Woe to these halls toward bloodshed she moves, and not to pour libations of the juice of the grape.
O children, haste to fly; that is the chant of death her piping plays.
Ah, yes! he is chasing the children. Never, ah! never will Madness lead her revel rout in vain.
Ah misery!
Ah me! how I lament that aged sire, that mother too that bore his babes in vain.
Look! look!
A tempest rocks the house; the roof is falling with it.
Oh! what art thou doing, son of Zeus?
Thou art sending hell's confusion against thy house, as erst did Pallas on Enceladus.
(A MESSENGER enters from the palace.)
MESSENGER
Ye hoary men of eld!
CHORUS
Why, oh! why this loud address to me?
MESSENGER
Awful is the sight within!
CHORUS
No need for me to call another to announce that.
MESSENGER
Dead lie the children.
CHORUS
Alas!
MESSENGER
Ah weep! for here is cause for weeping.
CHORUS
A cruel murder, wrought by parents' hands!
MESSENGER
No words can utter more than we have suffered.
CHORUS
What, canst thou prove this piteous ruin was a father's outrage on his children? Tell me how these heaven-sent woes came rushing on the house; say how the children met their sad mischance.
MESSENGER
