HERACLES
Amphitryon
Stand further off: not a sound,
not a cry. His sleep is deep,
his sleep is calm. Let him lie.
Chorus
What murder . . . 1050
Amphitryon
Hush! Be still: you add but grief.
Chorus
. . . poured out, piled high!
Amphitryon
Softly, gently, old friends. Mourn
in quiet: not a word, not a cry.
If he awakes and breaks his bonds, 1055
he will destroy us all:
father, city, and his house.
Chorus
I cannot hold my grief.
Amphitryon
Hush:
let me hear his breathing.
Chorus
Does he sleep? 1060
Amphitryon
He sleeps, but sleeps
as dead men do, because he slew his wife
and killed his sons with twanging bow.
Chorus
Grieve then, mourn!
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