_Hercules:_ Ye dire abodes Of fiends, ye prison-house of damnéd shades, Ye regions set apart for guilty throngs, If any place of exile lie beyond Deep Erebus, unknown to Cerberus And me, there hide ye me. I'll go and dwell 1225 Upon the farthest bound of Tartarus. O heart, too hard! Who worthily will weep For you, my children, scattered through my house? This face, woe-hardened, knows not how to weep. Bring me my sword, and give me here my darts, 1230 My mighty club. [_He addresses the four corpses in order._] For thee, poor murdered boy, I'll break my shafts; for thee my mighty bow Shall be asunder riven; to thy shades My heavy club shall burn; and on thy pyre My quiver, full of venomed darts, shall lie. My arms shall pay their penalty for sin. 1235 You, too, my guilty hands, with these shall burn, Too prompt to work a cruel stepdame's will. _Theseus:_ Who ever called an act of madness crime? _Hercules:_ Unbridled madness often ends in crime. _Amphitr.:_ Now is there need of Hercules to bear This greatest weight of woe. _Hercules:_ Not yet is shame 1240 So utterly extinguished in my heart, That I can bear to see all people flee My impious presence. Arms, my Theseus, arms! I pray you give them quickly back to me. If I am sane, trust weapons to my hands; If madness still remains, O father, fly; For I shall quickly find the road to death. 1245 _Amphitr.:_ By holy ties of birth, and by the name That makes us one, be it of father true, Or foster-father; by these hoary locks Which pious souls revere: I pray thee spare My lonely age and my enfeebled years. Spare thou thyself to me, the only prop 1250 Of this my falling house, the only light That's left to cheer my woeful heart. No fruit Of all thy toils have I as yet enjoyed; But ever either stormy seas I've feared, Or monsters. Every savage king who raves In all the world, for impious altars famed, 1255 Is cause of dread to me. Thy father longs For joy of thee, to feel and see thee near. _Hercules:_ Why I should longer keep my soul in life, And linger on the earth, there is no cause; For I have lost my all: my balanced mind, 1260 My arms, my reputation, children, wife, The glory of my strength--my madness too. There is no remedy for tainted souls; But death alone can cure me of my sin. _Amphitr.:_ And wilt thou slay thy father? _Hercules:_ Lest I do, I'll kill myself. _Amphitryon:_ Before thy father's face? _Hercules:_ Such impious sights I've taught him to behold.