To Phoebus’ own sister, with fire in each hand,
And the Nymphs that her co-mates be!
My spirit soars. O sovereign of my soul!
I will accept the thrilling flute’s control. [They dance
The ivy-crowned thyrsus, see!
With Bacchic fire is kindling me,
And turns my emulous tread
Where’er the mazy dance may lead.
Euoî! Euoî!
O Paean! send us joy.
See, dearest Queen, behold!
Before thy gaze the event will now unfold.
Dê. Think not mine eye hath kept such careless guard,
Dear maids, that I could miss this moving train.
Herald, I bid thee hail, although so late
Appearing, if thou bringest health with thee!
Enter Lichas, with Captive Women.
Lichas. A happy welcome on a happy way,
As prosperous our achievement. Meet it is
Good words should greet bright actions, mistress mine!
Dê. Kind friend, first tell me what I first would know—
Shall I receive my Heracles alive?
Lich. I left him certainly alive and strong:
Blooming in health, not with disease oppressed.
Dê. In Greece, or in some barbarous country? Tell!
Lich. Euboea’s island hath a promontory,
Where to Cenaean Zeus he consecrates
Rich altars and the tribute of the ground.
Dê. Moved by an oracle, or from some vow?
Lich. So vowed he when he conquered with the spear
The country of these women whom you see.
Dê. And who, by Heaven, are they? Who was their sire?
Their case is piteous, or eludes my thought.
