SER. Ye children, hail! but where is Iolaus,
That aged man; and hath your grandame left
Her seat before the altar?
IOL. Here am I,
If aught my presence can avail.
SER. On earth
Why art thou stretched, what means that downcast look?
IOL. Domestic cares have harrowed up my soul.
SER. Lift up thy head, arise.
IOL. I am grown old,
And all my strength is vanished.
SER. But to thee
I bring most joyful tidings.
IOL. Who art thou?
Where have I seen thee? I remember not.
SER. Hyllus’ attendant, canst thou not distinguish
These features?
IOL. O my friend, art thou arrived
To snatch me from despair?
SER. Most certainly:
Moreover the intelligence I bring
Will make thee happy.
IOL. Thee I call, come forth,
Alcmena, mother of a noble son,
And listen to these acceptable tidings:
Full long thy soul, for those who now approach,
Was torn with grief, lest they should ne’er return.