The very slumber of a Hercules?
'Twould please me well to see my victor—well.
Arise, thou victor, whom my sire begot,
A later wonder, leaving heaven behind;
At whose begetting, longer than at mine,
The night stood waiting.
[He recognizes his dead wife and children.]
Oh, what sight is this?
My sons lie murdered, weltering in their blood;1160
My wife is slain. What Lycus rules the land?