Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1896) v2.djvu/445

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THE MADNESS OF HERAKLES.
389

Night's daughter, a Gorgon with hundred-headed hiss
Of her serpents, Madness the ghttering-eyed is this.

Swiftly hath fortune o'erthrown him who sat on high:
Swiftly the sons by the father's hand shall die.

Ah misery! Zeus, mad vengeance ravenous-wild
Straightway, athirst for requital, with evils on evils piled,
Shall trample thy son unto dust, as though he were not thy child.

Woe for the palace-dome!
Her dance is beginning, but not with the cymbals clashing, 890
Not with the pine-wand uptossed amid loud acclamation,—

Woe for a hero's home!—
But for shedding of blood, not the blood of the grape glad-plashing
As the banqueters pour it forth for the Wine-god's oblation.

Away, O ye children, in flight, for death,
Death shrieks through her pipe by the blast of her breath!
[Cries and sound of rushing within.]
Like a hound is he holding the children in chase!—
Never shall Madness keep revel for nought through his dwelling-place.

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