MES. If you do this, you will incur great censure.
ALC. I love this city, I confess: but no man,
Since he is fall’n into my power, shall force
This prisoner from me: let them call me bold
And more presumptuous than becomes a woman,
I am resolved to execute my purpose.
MES. Full well I know the hatred which you bear
To this unhappy man is terrible,
And such as merits pardon.
EUR. Be convinced
Of this, O woman, that I cannot flatter,
Nor to preserve this wretched life say aught,
Whence they may brand me with a dastard’s name.
For I with much reluctance undertook
This contest; near in blood am I to thee,
And of that race whence sprung thy son Alcides.
But whether I consented, or was loth,
Me Juno caused by her immortal power
To harbour this dire frenzy in my breast.
Since I became his foe, since I resolved
Upon this strife, much mischief I devised,
And brooded o’er it many a tedious night,
That after I had wearied out and slain
Those I abhorred, I might no longer lead
A life of fear: for well I knew thy son
Was no mere cipher, but a man indeed:
Though strong my hate, on him will I confer
The praise he merits from his valiant deeds.
But after he was dead, was I not forced,
Because I was a foe to these his sons,
And knew what bitter enmity ’gainst me
They from their sire inherited, to leave
No stone unturned, to slay, to banish them,
And plot their ruin? Could I have succeeded
In these designs, my throne had stood secure.
If thou my prosperous station hadst obtained,
Wouldst thou not have attempted to hunt down
The lion’s whelps, instead of suffering them
At Argos unmolested to reside?
Thou canst prevail on no man to give credit
To such assertions: therefore, since my foes
Forbore to slay me, when prepared to lose
My life in battle, by the laws of Greece,
If I now die, my blood will fix a stain
Of lasting guilt on him who murders me.
This city hath discreetly spared my life,
More influenced by its reverence for the gods
Than by the hatred which to me it bears.
My answer to the charges thou hast urged
Against me, having heard, esteem me now
A suppliant, and though wretched, still a king,
For such is my condition: though to die
I wish not, yet can I without regret
Surrender up my life.
CHOR. To you, Alcmena,
A little wholesome counsel would I give,
This captive monarch to release, since such
The pleasure of the city.
ALC. If he die,
And to the mandates of th’ Athenian realm
I still submit, what mischief can ensue?
CHOR. ’Twere best of all. But how can these two things
Be reconciled?
ALC. I will inform you how
This may with ease be done. I, to his friends,
When slain will yield him up, and with this land
Comply in the disposal of his corse:
But he shall die to sate my just revenge.
EUR. Destroy me if thou wilt; to thee I sue not:
But on this city, since it spared my life
Through pious reverence, and forbore to slay me,
Will I bestow an ancient oracle
Of Phœbus, which in future times shall prove
More advantageous than ye now suppose;
For after death, so have the Fates decreed,
My corse shall ye inter before the temple
Of the Pallenian maid: to you a friend
And guardian of your city, shall I rest
Beneath this soil for ever; but a foe
To those who spring from this detested race
When with their armies they invade this land
Requiting with ingratitude your kindness:
Such strangers ye protect. But thus forewarned,
Why came I hither? Through a fond belief
That Juno was with far superior power
To each oracular response endued,
And that my cause she ne’er would have betrayed.
On me waste no libations, nor let gore
Be poured forth on the spot of my interment,
For I to punish these their impious deeds,
Will cause them with dishonour to return:
From me shall ye receive a double gain,
For you I will assist, and prove to them
Most baneful e’en in death.
ALC. Why are ye loth
To slay this man, if what ye hear be true,
That welfare to this city hence will spring,
And your prosperity? For he points out
The safest road. Alive he is a foe,
But after he is dead will prove a friend.
Ye servants bear him hence, and to the dogs
Cast forth without delay his breathless corse:
Think not, presumptuous wretch, that thou shalt live
Again t’ expel me from my native land.
CHOR. With this am I well pleased. My followers, go.
For hence in our king’s sight shall we stand guiltless.