The Poetical Works of Leigh Hunt/The Infant Hercules and the Serpents
TRANSLATIONS.
Juno, jealous of the child which Jupiter has had by Alcmena, sends two dreadful serpents to devour the boy. The serpents come upon him while he and his half-brother Iphiclus, the son of Amphitryon, are sleeping together. Iphiclus, the child of the mortal father, is terrified: Hercules, the infant demi-god, seizes and destroys them, as if they were living playthings. His mother consults the prophet Tiresias on the occasion, and is told of her son's future renown.
Young Hercules had now beheld the lightOnly ten months, when once upon a night,Alcmena, having wash'd, and given the breastTo both her heavy boys, laid them to rest.Their cradle was a noble shield of brass,Won by her lord from slaughtered Pterelas.Gently she laid them down, and gently laidHer hand on both their heads, and yearn'd, and said,"Sleep, sleep, my boys, a light and pleasant sleep;My little souls, my twins, my guard and keep!Sleep happy, and wake happy!" And she keptRocking the mighty buckler, and they slept.
At midnight, when the Bear went down, and broadOrion's shoulder lit the starry road, There came, careering through the opening halls,On livid spires, two dreadful animals—Serpents; whom Juno, threatening as she drove,Had sent there to devour the boy of Jove.Orbing their blood-fed bellies in and out,They tower'd along; and as they look'd about,An evil fire out of their eyes came lamping;A heavy poison dropt about their champing.
And now they have arriv'd, and think to fallTo their dread meal, when lo! (for Jove sees all),The house is lit, as with the morning's break,And the dear children of Alcmena wake.The younger one, as soon as he beheldThe evil creatures coming on the shield,And saw their loathsome teeth, began to cryAnd shriek, and kick away the clothes, and tryAll his poor little instincts of escape;The other, grappling, seiz'd them by the napeOf either poisonous neck, for all their twists,And held, like iron, in his little fists.Buckled and bound he held them, struggling wild,And so they wound about the boy, the child,The long-begetting boy, the suckling dear,That never teaz'd his nurses with a tear.
Tired out at length, they trail their spires and gaspLock'd in that young indissoluble grasp.
Alcmena heard the noise, and "Wake," she cried,"Amphitryon, wake, for terror holds me tied!Up; stay not for the sandals: hark! the child,The youngest—how he shrieks! The babe is wild:And see, the walls and windows! 'Tis as lightAs if 'twere day, and yet 'tis surely night.There's something dreadful in the house; there isIndeed, dear husband!" He arose at this;And seiz'd his noble sword, which overheadWas always hanging at the cedar-bed: The hilt he grasp'd in one hand, and the sheathIn t'other; and drew forth the blade of death.
All in an instant, like a stroke of doom,Returning midnight smote upon the room.
Amphitryon call'd; and woke from heavy sleepHis household, who lay breathing hard and deep;"Bring lights here from the hearth! lights, lights; and guardThe doorways; rise, ye ready labourers hard!"
He said; and lights came pouring in, and allThe busy house was up, in bower and hall;But when they saw the little suckling, howHe grasp'd the monsters, and with earnest browKept beating them together, plaything-wise,They shriek'd aloud; but he, with laughing eyes,Soon as he saw Amphitryon, leap'd and sprungChildlike, and at his feet the dead disturbers flung.
Then did Alcmena to her bosom takeHer feebler boy, who could not cease to shake.The other son Amphitryon took and laidBeneath a fleece; and so return'd to bed.
Soon as the cock with his thrice-echoing cheerTold that the gladness of the day was near,Alcmena sent for old, truth-utteringTiresias; and she told him all this thing,And bade him say what she might think and do;"Nor do thou fear," said she, "to let me know,Although the mighty gods should meditateAught ill; for man can never fly from Fate.And thus thou seest" (and here her smiling eyesLook'd through a blush) "how well I teach the wise."
So spoke the queen. Then he, with glad old tone;"Be of good heart, thou blessed bearing one,True blood of Perseus; for by my sweet sight,Which once divided these poor lids with light,Many Greek women, as they sit and weaveThe gentle thread across their knees at eve,Shall sing of thee and thy beloved name;Thou shalt be blest by every Argive dame:For unto this thy son it shall be givenWith his broad heart to win his way to heaven;Twelve labours shall he work; and all accurstAnd brutal things o'erthrow, brute men the worstAnd in Trachinia shall the funeral pyrePurge his mortalities away with fire,And he shall mount amid the stars, and beAcknowledg'd kin to those who envied thee,And sent these den-born shapes to crush his destiny."
