Chorus
MAT.
947
Such things how dared a woman's hand attempt ?
It was a scene of horror: thou with me
Wilt thou attest, when thou shalt know the whole.
Soon as she entering pass'd the gates alone,
And saw her son preparing in the court
A cover'd couch with purpose to return
And meet his father, she conceal'd herself
Where none might see her; then she wail'd aloud
Prostrate before the altar, that her state
Was become desolate; and if she touch'd
Aught which before her hands had used, she wept.
Then through th' apartments as her wand'ring steps
She turn’d, some lov’d domestic if she saw,
Affected at the sight she pour’d a flood
Of tears; her wretched state she then deplored,
And all the riches of her house, no more
With children to be blest. This had an end.
Then to the chamber, where the nuptial bed
Of Hercules was placed, with sudden speed
I saw her rush; conceal'd a secret eye
I kept on her, and there beheld her spread
With busy care the coverings o'er the couch
Of Hercules; this done, she sprung aloft,
And seated on the middle of the bed
Gave the warm fount of tears to gush, and said,
O thou dear couch, long since my bridal bed,
Henceforth farewell; for never shalt thou more
Receive me on thy soft down to repose.
She spoke, and with dispatchful hand unloosed
The golden clasp, which o'er her swelling breasts
Confined her robe; thus was her side laid bare,
And her left shoulder. With my utmost speed
I ran to tell her son what she design'd.
Short was the interval; yet when we came,
We saw her side deep wounded, to her heart
The sword had pierced: at that sad sight her son
Groan'd in the anguish of his soul, for well
He knew that 'gainst herself enraged this deed
She had effected, taught too late what ill
She on her house had brought, without design,
But by the Centaur's evil arts ensnared.
Nor sighs nor tears th' unhappy youth forbore,
Nor lamentations: to her cheek he join'd
His cheek, and to her bleeding side his side;
Thus lying near her many a groan he heaved,
That rashly he had charged her with a crime
Of base intent; then wept, because at once
Of hers and of his father's life deprived.
Such scenes I saw: so that if mortal man
Of one day, or of more should make account,
His thoughts were vain; to-morrow is not, ere
In safety he has pass'd the present day.
Which most shall cause my tears to flow?
Which most shall I lament?
Each is a deed of equal woe,
Beneath this roof may one be seen,
The other comes with threat'ning mein.
The present ill, th' impending dread,
Alike their gloomy horrors spread.
Oh, would some fav'ring whirlwind rise,
Sweep from this house, and drive me through the air
From this dire scene of sorrow far,
And from these miseries spare my aching eyes!
Whilst the son of Jove sustains
Fierce and agonizing pains,
My trembling soul would sicken with affright,
And I should die at such a sight.
See, to this royal mansion near
Some prodigy of woe they bear :
No distant grief excites this mournful strain,
Taught like the thrilling Nightingale's to flow.
In solemn silence moves the stranger train,
Heedful, as friends, with gentle steps and slow :
Nor word nor sound he utters as he lies,.
And death, or sleep, hath closed the hero's eyes.
