HERACLES.  First, son of Poeas, wait till thou hast heard
The voice of Heracles, and weighed his word. 
Him thou beholdest from the Heavenly seat
Come down, for thee leaving the blest retreat,
To tell thee all high Zeus intends, and stay
Thy purpose in the journey of to-day. 
  Then hear me, first how after my long toils
By strange adventure I have found and won
Immortal glory, which thine eyes perceive;
And the like lot, I tell thee, shall be thine,
After these pains to rise to glorious fame. 
Sailing with this thy comrade to Troy-town,
First thou shalt heal thee from thy grievous sore,
And then, being singled forth from all the host
As noblest, thou shalt conquer with that bow
Paris, prime author of these years of harm,
And capture Troy, and bear back to thy hall
The choicest guerdon, for thy valour’s meed,
To Oeta’s vale and thine own father’s home. 
But every prize thou tak’st be sure thou bear
Unto my pyre, in memory of my bow. 
  This word, Achilles’ offspring, is for thee
No less.  For, as thou could’st not without him,
So, without thee, he cannot conquer Troy. 
Then, like twin lions hunting the same hill,
Guard thou him, and he thee! and I will send
Asclepius Troyward to relieve thy pain. 
For Ilion now a second time must fall
Before the Herculean bow.  But, take good heed,
Midst all your spoil to hold the gods in awe. 
For our great Father counteth piety
Far above all.  This follows men in death,
And fails them not when they resign their breath.

PHI.  Thou whom I have longed to see,
    Thy dear voice is law to me.

NEO.  I obey with gladdened heart.

HER.  Lose no time:  at once depart! 
    Bright occasion and fair wind
    Urge your vessel from behind.

PHI.  Come, let me bless the region ere I go. 
    Poor house, sad comrade of my watch, farewell! 
    Ye nymphs of meadows where soft waters flow
    Thou ocean headland, pealing thy deep knell,
    Where oft within my cavern as I lay
    My hair was moist with dashing south-wind’s spray,
    And ofttimes came from Hermes’ foreland high
    Sad replication of my storm-vext cry;
    Ye fountains and thou Lycian water sweet,—­
    I never thought to leave you, yet my feet
    Are turning from your paths,—­we part for aye. 
    Farewell! and waft me kindly on my way,
    O Lemnian earth enclosed by circling seas,
    To sail, where mighty Fate my course decrees,
    And friendly voices point me, and the will
    Of that heroic power, who doth this act fulfil.

CH.  Come now all in one strong band;
    Then, ere loosing from the land,
    Pray we to the nymphs of sea
    Kind protectresses to be,
    Till we touch the Trojan strand.

* * * * *

OEDIPUS AT COLONOS