Were strong, right quickly had he ceased therefrom.
But now I am nought. 'Tis thine, Amphitryon, now
To search how thou shalt pierce misfortune's snares. 315
Amphitryon.
Nor cowardice nor life-craving holds me back
From death: but for my son I fain would save
His sons—I covet things past hope, meseems.
Lo, here my throat is ready for thy sword,
For stabbing, murdering, hurling from the rock. 320
Yet grant us twain one grace, I pray thee, king:
Slay me and this poor mother ere the lads,
That—sight unhallowed—we see not the boys
Gasping out life, and calling on their mother
And grandsire: in all else thine eager will 325
Work out; for we have no defence from death.
Megara.
And, I beseech, to this grace add a grace,
To be twice benefactor to us twain:—
Open yon doors; let me array my sons
In death's attire,—for now are we shut out,— 330
Their one inheritance from their father's halls.
Lykus.
So be it: I bid my men throw wide the doors.
Pass in; adorn you: I begrudge no robes.
But, when ye have cast the arraying round your limbs,
I come, to give you to the nether world. 335
Megara.
Children, attend your hapless mother's steps
