_Hercules:_ Lo I, who have escaped the hands of death, Who scorned the Styx, and thence through Lethe's pool Returned with spoil so grim and terrible, That Titan from his reeling chariot Was well-nigh thrown; I, whom three realms have felt: I feel the pangs of death, and yet no sword 1165 Has pierced my side, nor has some mighty crag, All Othrys, been the weapon of my death; No giant with his fierce and gaping jaws Has heaped high Pindus on my lifeless corpse. Without an enemy am I o'erwhelmed; 1170 And, what brings greater anguish to my soul (Shame to my manhood!), this my final day Has seen no monster slain. Ah, woe is me! My life is squandered--and for no return. O thou, whose rule is over all the world; Ye gods of heaven who have beheld my deeds; O earth, is't fitting that your Hercules 1175 Should die by such a death? Oh, cruel shame! Oh, base and bitter end--that fame should say Great Hercules was by a woman slain, He who in mortal combat has o'ercome[38] So many men and beasts! If changeless fate Had willed that I by woman's hand should die, 1180 And if to such base end my thread of life, Alas, must lead, Oh, that I might have fallen By Juno's hate. 'Twould be by woman's hand, But one who holds the heavens in her sway. If that, ye gods, were more than I should ask, The Amazon, beneath the Scythian skies Brought forth, might better have o'ercome my strength. But by what woman's hand shall I be said, 1185 Great Juno's enemy, to have been slain? This is for thee, my stepdame, deeper shame. Why shouldst thou call this day a day of joy? What baleful thing like this has earth produced To sate thy wrath? A mortal woman's hate Has far excelled thine own. 'Twas late thy shame, 1190 To feel thyself by Hercules alone Outmatched; but now must thou confess thyself By two o'ercome. Shame on such heavenly wrath! Oh, that the Nemean lion of my blood Had drunk his fill, and Oh, that I had fed The hydra with his hundred snaky heads Upon my gore! Oh, that the centaurs fierce 1195 Had made a prey of me; or 'midst the shades I, bound upon the everlasting rock, Were sitting, lost in misery! But no: From every distant land I've taken spoil, While fate looked on amazed; from hellish Styx Have I come back to earth; the bonds of Dis I have o'ercome. Death shunned me everywhere, 1200 That I might lack at last a glorious end. Alas for all the monsters I have slain! Oh, why did not three-headed Cerberus, When he had seen the sunlight, drag me back To hell? Why, far away 'neath western skies, Did not the monstrous shepherd lay me low? And those twin serpents huge--ah, woe is me, How often have I 'scaped a glorious death! 1205