the path of bliss; for one kind of fortune follows hard upon another; one man it brings to naught from his high estate, another though of no[1] account it crowns with happiness. To shun what fate decrees, is no wise permitted; none by cunning shall thrust it from him; but he, who vainly would do so, shall have unceasing trouble. Then fall not prostrate thou, but bear what heaven sends, and set a limit to thy soul's grief; for she, poor maid! in dying for her brothers and this land, hath won a glorious death, and splendid fame shall be her meed from all mankind; for virtue's path leads through troublous ways. Worthy of her father, worthy of her noble birth is this conduct. And if thou dost honour the virtuous dead, I share with thee that sentiment.
Ser. All hail, ye children! Where is aged Iolaus? where the mother of your sire, absent from their place at this altar?
Iol. Here am I, so far as I can be present at all.
Ser. Why dost thou lie there? Why that downcast look?
Iol. There is come a sorrow on my house, whereby I am distressed.
Ser. Arise, lift up thy head.
Iol. I am old, and all my strength is gone.
Ser. But I come with tidings of great joy for thee.
Iol. Who art thou? Where have I met thee? I have no remembrance.
Ser. I am a vassal of Hyllus; dost not recognize me now?
Iol. Best of friends, art thou come to save us twain from hurt?
Ser. Assuredly; and moreover thou art lucky in the present case.
Iol. Alcmena, mother of a noble son, to thee I call! come forth, hear this welcome news. For long has anguish caused thee inwardly to waste, wondering if those, who now are here, would ever come.
- ↑ Reading ἀτίταν, Fix's emendation for the unmetrical ἀλήταν of MS.
