THE MEGARA

Megara the wife of Heracles addresses his mother Alcmena.

[1] Mother dear, O why is they heart cast down in this
exceeding sorrow, and the rose o they cheek a-withering away?
What is it, sweet, hath made thee so sad? Is it because thy
doughty son be given troubles innumerable by a man of nought,
as a lion might be given by a fawn? O well-a-day that the Gods
should have sent me this dishonour! and alas that I should have
been begotten unto such an evil lot! Woes me that I that was
bedded with a man above reproach, I that esteemed him as the
light of my eyes and do render him hearts worship and honour
to this day, should have lived to see him of all the world most
miserable and best acquaint with the taste of woe! O misery that
the bow and arrows given him of the great Apollo should prove
to be the dire shafts of a Death-Spirit (Ker) or a Fury, so that he
should run stark mad in his own home and slay his own children
withal, should reave them of dear life and fill the house with
murder and blood.
[19] Aye, with my own miserable eyes I saw my children
smitten of the hand of their father, and that hath no other so
much as dreamt of. And for all they cried and cried upon their
mother I could not help them, so present and invincible was
their evil hap. But even as a bird that waileth upon her young
ones perishing when her babes be devoured one by one of a
dire serpent in the thicket, and flies to and fro, the poor raving
mother, screaming above her children, and cannot go near to aid
them for her own great terror of that remorseless monster; even
so this unhappiest of mothers thats before thee did speed back
and forth through all that house in a frenzy, crying woe upon her
pretty brood. O would to thee kind Artemis, great Queen of us
poor women, would I too had fallen with a poisoned arrow in
my heart and so died also! Then had my parents taken and wept
over us together, and laid us with several rites on one funeral
pile, and so gathered all those ashes in one golden urn and
buried them in the land of our birth. But alas! they dwell in the
Theban country of steeds and do till the deep loam of the
Aonian lowlands, while I be in the ancient Tirynthian hold of

Hera, and my heart cast down with manifold pain ever and
unceasingly, and never a moments respite from tears.
[41] For as for my husband, tis but a little of the time my eyes
do look upon him in our home, seeing he hath so many labours
to do abroad by land and sea with that brave heart of his so
strong as stone or steel; and as for you, you are poured out like
water, weeping the long of every day and night Zeus giveth to
the world: and one other of my kindred can come and play me
comforter; they be no next-door neighbours, they, seeing they
dwell every one of them away beyond the piny Isthmus, and so I
have none to look to, such as a thrice-miserable woman needs to
revive her heart save only my sister Pyrrha, and she hath her
own sorrow for her husband Iphicles, and he your son; for
methinks never in all the world hath woman borne so ill-fated
children as a God and a man did beget upon you.
[56] So far spake Megara, the great tears falling so big as apples
into her lovely bosom, first at the thought of her children and
thereafter at the thought of her father and mother. And Alcmena,
she in like manner did bedew her pale wan cheeks with tears,
and now fetching a deep sigh spake words of wisdom unto her
dear daughter:
[62] My poor girl, says she, what is come over thy prudent
heart? How is it thou wilt be disquieting us both with this talk of
sorrows unforgettable? Thou hast bewept them so many times
before; are not the misfortunes which possess us 1 enough each
day as they come? Sure he that should fall a-counting in the
midst of miseries like ours would be a very fond lover of
lamentation. Be of good cheer; Heaven hath not fashioned us of
much stuff as that.
[69] And what is more, I need no telling, dear child, of thy
sadness; for I can see thee before me labouring of unabating
woes, and God wot I know what tis to be sore vexed when the
very joys of life are loathsome, and I am exceeding sad and
sorry thou shouldest have part in the baneful fortune that hangs
us so heavy overhead. For before the Maid I swear it, and before
the robed Demeter and any that willingly and of ill intent

foresweareth these will rue it sore I love thee no whit less than
I had loved thee wert thou come of my womb and wert thou the
dear only daughter of my house. And of this methinks thou
thyself cannot be ignorant altogether. Wherefore never say thou,
sweetheart, that I heed thee not, albeit I should weep faster than
the fair-tressed Niob herself. For even such laments as hers are
no shame to be made of a mother for the ill hap of a child; why,
I ailed for nine months big with him or ever I so much as beheld
him, and he brought me nigh unto the Porter of the Gate o
Death, so ill-bested was I in the birthpangs of him; and now he
is gone away unto a new labour, alone into a foreign land, nor
can I tell, mores the woe, whether he will be given me again or
nor.
[91] And what is more, there is come to disquiet my sweet
slumber a direful dream, and the adverse vision makes me
exceedingly afraid lest ever it works something untoward upon
my children. There appeared unto me, a trusty mattock, even as
one hired to labour, he was digging of a ditch along the edge of
a springing field, and was without either cloak or belted jerkin.
And when his labouring of the strong fence of that place of
vines was got all to its end, then would he stick his spade upon
the pile of the earth he had digged and put on those clothed he
wore before; but lo! there outshined above the deep trench a fire
inextinguishable, and there rolled about him a marvelous great
flame. At this he went quickly backward, and so ran with intent
to escape the baleful might of the God o Fire, with his mattock
ever held before his body like a buckler and his eyes turned now
this way and now that, lest the consuming fire should set him
alight. Then methought the noble Iphicles, willing to aid him,
slipped or ever he came at him, and fell to the earth, nor could
not rise up again; nay, but lay there helpless like some poor
weak old man who constrained of joyless age to fall, lieth on the
ground and needs must lie, till a passenger, for the sake of the
more honour of his hoary beard, take him by the hand and raise
him up. So then lay targeteer Iphicles along; and as for me, I
wept to behold the parlous plight of my children, till sleep the
delectable was gone from my eyes, and lo! there comes me the
lightsome dawn.

[122] Such are the dreams, dear heart, have disquieted me all the
night long; and I only pray they all may turn from any hurt of
our house to make mischief unto Eurystheus; against him be the
prophecy of my soul, and Fate ordain that, and that only, for the
fulfilment of it.
Note:
1
the misfortunes which possess us : the Greeks is Are not the
woes which possess us, coming ever latest day, enough!