_Hercules:_ O father, turn and look upon my woes. 1290 Never till now has great Alcides fled To thee for aid; not when around my limbs The deadly hydra, fertile in its death, Its writhing serpents folded. 'Mid the pools Of hell, by that thick pall of death I stood Surrounded close; and yet I called thee not. How many dreadful beasts have I o'ercome, 1295 How many kings and tyrants; yet my face Have I ne'er turned in suppliance to the sky. This hand of mine alone has been the god Who heard my prayers. No gleaming thunderbolts Have ever flashed from heaven on my account. But now at last has come a woeful time Which bids me ask for aid. This day, the first 1300 And last, shall hear the prayers of Hercules. One thunderbolt I ask, and only one. Consider me a giant storming heaven. Yea, heaven I might have stormed in very truth; But, since I deemed thee sire, I spared the skies. Oh, whether thou be harsh or merciful, 1305 Stretch forth thy hand and grant me speedy death, And gain this great renown unto thy name. Or, if thy righteous hand refuse a task So impious, send forth from Sicily Those burning Titans, who with giant hands May Pindus huge upheave, and Ossa too, 1310 And overwhelm me with their crushing weight. Let dire Bellona burst the bars of hell, And with her gleaming weapon pierce my heart; Or let fierce Mars be arméd for my death; He is my brother; true, but Juno's son. Thou also, sprung from father Jove, and so Alcides' sister, bright Athene, come, 1315 And hurl thy spear against thy brother's breast. And e'en to thee I stretch my suppliant hands, O cruel stepdame; thou at least, I pray, Let fly thy dart (so by a woman's hand I may be slain), thine anger soothed at last, Thy thirst for vengeance sated. Why dost thou Still nurse thy wrath? Why further seek revenge? 1320 Behold Alcides suppliant to thee, Which no wild beast, no land has ever seen. But now, O Juno, when I need thy wrath, Is now thine anger cooled, thy hate forgot? Thou giv'st me life when 'tis for death I pray. O lands, and countless cities of the earth, 1325 Is there no one among you all to bring A blazing torch for mighty Hercules? Will no one give me arms? Why take away My weapons from my hands? Then let no land Bring forth dire monsters more when I am dead, And let the world not ask for aid of mine. If other ills are born into the world, Then must another savior come as well. 1330 Oh, bring ye heavy stones from every side And hurl them at my wretched head; and so O'erwhelm at last my woes. Ungrateful world, Dost thou refuse? Hast thou forgot me quite? Thou wouldst thyself have been a helpless prey To evil monsters, had not I been born.