_Lycus:_ Since thou dost stubbornly refuse my suit, And striv'st to fright the king, now shalt thou feel The strength of royal power. Cling as thou mayst To altar horns: no god shall save thee now From me; not though the earth itself be rent, And Hercules victorious come again Unto the upper world. 505 [_To slaves._] Heap high the logs, And let the sacred temple blazing fall Upon its suppliants. Now let the wife And all her brood upon the funeral pyre Be burned to ashes in the kindling flames. _Amphitr.:_ This boon Alcides' father asks of thee, Which fits me well, that I be first to die. 510 _Lycus:_ Who bids all men meet punishment with death Knows not the ruler's art. Seek varied pains; Forbid the wretch to die, the happy slay. Now, while the pyre is growing for the flames, I'll pay my vows unto the ocean's god. 515 [_Exit._] _Amphitr.:_ O god of gods, O ruler of the skies, Whose hurtling bolts make mortals quake with fear, Check thou the impious hand of this dire king. Why do I vainly importune the gods? Where'er thou art, hear thou and answer, son. 520 But why this sudden rocking of the shrine? Why groans the earth? Far in her lowest hold A crashing deep resounds. Our prayer is heard! It is, it is the step of Hercules! * * * * *