Of Syrtes he was wrecked, he left his ship
A helpless hulk and crossed the sea on foot.
Megara: ⁠Unjust is fortune, rarely does she spare 325
The bravest souls. No one with safety long
Can brave so frequent perils; he who oft
Has shunned misfortune meets at last his fate.
But see, with threatening looks fierce Lycus comes,
His hateful soul in hateful hearing shown, 330
And bears the stolen scepter in his hand.
⁠[Enter Lycus.]
Lycus: ⁠The rich domain of this proud town of Thebes,
With all the fertile soil which Phocis bounds
Within its winding borders, all the land
Ismenus waters; all Cithaeron sees 335
From his high top; the narrow Isthmus, too,
Two seas asunder cleaving: all I own,
Not by prerogative of long descent,
A worthless heir. No noble ancestors,
Nor family adorned with lofty names
Have I; but splendid valor. He who boasts 340
His noble ancestry exalts a thing
Which is not his to boast. But power usurped
Is held with anxious hands; the sword alone
Can guard it. All thou hold'st against the will
Of citizens the sword must hold for thee.
No kingdom built upon a foreign soil 345
Is safe for long. One thing alone I see
Which can our power establish—Megara,
By ties of royal marriage bound to me.
From her illustrious line my humble blood
Shall a richer hue derive. Nor do I think
That she will scorn me and refuse my suit.
But should she with a blind and stubborn soul 350
Refuse my proffered hand, my mind is fixed
To give to utter ruin all the house
Of Hercules. Will such a deed arouse
A storm of scandal and the people's hate?
The art of ruling chiefly lies in this: