_Hercules:_ Now is the whole round earth at last subdued; 955 The swollen seas give place, and e'en the realms Infernal have our toils heroic known. The heavens alone remain untried, a task Well worth the struggles of a Hercules. Now shall I soar aloft to those far heights, And seek the heavenly spaces; for a star Has Jupiter, my father, promised me. What if he should refuse? Nay, but the earth 960 No longer can Alcides hold, and now Returns him to the heavens whence he came. Behold, the whole assembly of the gods Invite me to their midst, and open wide The doors of heaven--with one dissenting voice. [_To_ Juno, _in apostrophe_.] And wilt thou not receive me into heaven? Wilt not unbar the gates? Wouldst have me rend The portals of the stubborn sky away? And dost doubt thou my power? Nay, Saturn's chains 965 Will I unbind, and loose my grandsire's might Against his impious son's unbridled sway. I'll stir the Titans up to war again, And lead them on; great rocks and trees I'll bring, And with my strong right hand I'll snatch and hurl The ridges where the Centaurs have their home. 970 Two mountains, one on other, will I pile And so construct a highway to the skies. Then shall old Chiron see Mount Ossa placed Upon his Pelion; and if to heaven Olympus reach not, third in order set, I'll hurl it there. _Amphitryon:_ Such thought be far from thee! Check this mad impulse of a heart insane, 975 Though great. _Hercules:_ But what is this? With dire intent The giants are in arms. Great Tityus Has fled the shades, and, towering aloft With torn and empty breast, has almost gained The heavens. Cithaeron totters to his base, Pallene trembles, Tempe faints in fear. 980 One has Mount Pindus snatched away, and one Mount Oeta. Mimas rages horribly. Now comes Erinnys with her flaming torch, And shakes her hissing scourge; my face she seeks Nearer and nearer with ill-omened brands On funeral pyres enkindled. There I see Tisiphone with snake-encircled head; 985 With brandished torch she guards the gate of hell, Now that their watch-dog has been stolen away. [_He catches sight of his children._] But see where lurk the children of the king, The impious spawn of Lycus whom I hate. To your detested sire I'll send you now. Let darting arrows from my bowstring fly; 990 Such errands fit my noble weapons well. [_He aims an arrow at one of the children._] _Amphitr.:_ What will he do in his blind passion's rage? Now he has bent his mighty bow, and now His quiver loosed. The hissing dart is sped. Straight through the neck it flies, and leaves the wound.