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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

HERACLES FURENS: MACARIA AND IOLAUS, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Now fear no more the enemy spear of argos
Last Line: Is thought to be best remedy for hurts.


MACARIA. IOLAUS. DEMOPHON

MAC.

Now fear no more the enemy spear of Argos,
For I myself, before they order me,
Am ready, old man, to die and meet the knife:
For what shall we say, if for the sakes of us
The city shall accept and run great risk,
While we, imposing trouble on other men,
Now we could save them run away from dying?
It is not to be thought; and laughably
Idle before the gods we should wail and pray
And, being the children of our father born,
Show coward! how should this be a noble part?
O better I'll say -- but never be it so! --
If with our city taken, I should fall
In the enemy's hands, a noble father's child,
Shame to endure and look no less on death.
Or exiled from this land shall I wander away?
How shall I not be shamed, suppose men taunt?
'Why come you here with suppliant symbols crowned,
Lovers of your own lives? out of our country!
Begone! not cowards we in this land assist.'
And yet, with these once dead, I would have no hope,
Not even myself being saved, of good success --
And many there are who have their friends betrayed
Long before this -- for who would want a maiden
Forlorn for a wife, or to have sons of me?
Is it not better to die than be so shamed,
Dishonourable? that fits another more,
A maiden not so known as I am known.
So lead me where this body of mine must die,
Wreathe me, and take the first fruits as you will;
Vanquish the enemy, for here my life
Willing and not unwilling is yours to have.
You'll say for brethren and myself I perished,
Because, no slave to life, I still have found
This my best finding, decently to die.

IOL.

My child, from no mean source your blood derives,
But you are born of the true Heracles,
A divine seed; nor have I any shame
Hearing your word; it is your fate that shames me.
But now I'll tell you of a juster way;
Bring all her sisters here, and for her race
Let her then die, whoever draws the lot;
But with no lot for you to die is wrong.

MAC.

I would not die by choice of casting lots,
For that's ungracious; bid me not, old man,
But follow me, sir, for by your hand I'll die.
Be with me, cover my body with a cloak!

IOL.

I could not ever at your death stand by.

MAC.

(turning to Demophon) Yet grant me this, that not in hands of men
But in the hands of women I may expire.

DEM.

It shall be so, poor maiden, and for me
Base would it be to have you meanly arrayed,
For many a cause, for sake of your good spirit
And for the right. A fate it is you bear
Sadder than of all women I have seen.
But come; and if you will, to these around
And this old man utter your latest words.

MAC.

Old man, farewell, farewell, and teach I pray you
These children to be such, -- in all things wise
As you, no more, for then they'll have enough.
And try to keep them from dying, as you wish;
For we are your children, by your hand bred up,
And here you see me for the sake of them
Giving away the age of marriage, and dying.
And you, my many brethren that stand here,
Farewell, receive all that for cost of which
My life must first be sacrificed away;
And honour the old man and in the house
The old Alcmene, mother of our father,
And these we love; and if an end of troubles
You find and a safe homecoming from the gods,
Forget not then to bury me who saved you,
Giving me my due honour of burial --
I did not fail you, dying for my people.
And this for children and for virginity
Shall be my treasure, if there be aught in death --
Yet be there nothing! for if we mortals die,
And still must have our troubles in the grave,
I know not where to turn to, since in dying
Is thought to be best remedy for hurts.





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