Chapter XXVII: Act II: In the palace of Deianira at Trachin

_Nurse of_ Deianira: Oh, bitter is the rage a woman feels,
When in one house both wife and mistress dwell!
No wrecking Scylla, no Charybdis dire, 235
The wild upheavers of Sicilia's waves,
No savage beast, is more untamed than she.
For when the maiden's beauty was revealed,
And Iole shone like the cloudless sky,
Or gleaming stars within the heavens serene,
Then did Alcides' bride like one distraught 240
Stand gazing fiercely on the captive maid;
As when a tigress, lying with her young
Beneath some rock in far Armenia,
Leaps up to meet an enemy's approach;
Or as a Maenad, by the god inspired,
And bidden shake the thyrsus, stands awhile
In wonder whither she shall take her way.
Then she throughout the house of Hercules 245
Goes madly rushing; nor does all the house
Give space enough. Now here, now there she runs,
At random wandering; and now she stands,
Her face reflecting woe in every line,
The inmost feelings of her heart revealed.
She threatens fiercely, then a flood of tears
Succeeds to threats. No mood for long endures, 250
Nor can one form of rage content her long.
Now flame her cheeks with wrath; pale terror now
Drives out the flush of anger, and her grief
Takes every form that maddened sorrow knows:
Complainings, prayers, and groans. But now the doors
Are creaking: see, she comes in frenzied haste,
With words confused revealing all her heart. 255

[_Enter_ Deianira.]

_Deianira:_ O wife of Jove, where'er in heaven thou dwell'st,
Against Alcides send some raging beast
That shall be dire enough to sate my wrath.
If any hydra rears its fertile head
Too vast to be contained in any pool,
Impossible of conquest, send it forth.
If anything is worse than other beasts, 260
Enormous, unrelenting, horrible,
From which the eye of even Hercules
Would turn in fear, let such an one come out
From its huge den. But if no beasts avail,
This heart of mine into some monster change;
For of my hate can any shape be made
That thou desir'st. Oh, mould my woman's form 265
To match my grief. My breast cannot contain
Its rage. Why dost thou search the farthest bounds
Of earth, and overturn the world? Or why
Dost thou demand of hell its evil shapes?
This breast of mine will furnish for thy use
All fearful things. To work thy deadly hate 270
Use me as tool. Thou canst destroy him quite.
Do thou but use these hands for what thou will.
Why dost thou hesitate, O goddess? See,
Use me, the raging one. What impious deed
Dost thou command? Decide. Why doubtful stand?
Now mayst thou rest awhile from all thy toils,
For my rage is enough. 275

_Nurse:_ O child of mine,
These sad outpourings of thy maddened heart
Restrain, quench passion's fire, and curb thy grief.
Show now that thou art wife of Hercules.

_Deianira:_ Shall captive Iole unto my sons
Give brothers, and a lowly slave become
The daughter-in-law of Jove? In common course
Will fire and rushing torrent never run; 280
The thirsty Bear will never taste the sea--
And never shall my woes go unavenged.
Though thou didst bear the vasty heavens up,
Though all the world is debtor unto thee,
'Twill not avail thee now, for thou shalt find
A monster greater far than Hydra's rage,
An angry wife's revenge, awaiting thee.
The flames that leap from Aetna's top to heaven 285
Burn not so fiercely as my passion's fire
Which shall outvie whate'er thou hast o'ercome.
Shall then a captive slave usurp my bed?
Before, I feared the monsters dire; but now,
Those pests have vanished quite, and in their stead
This hated rival comes. O mighty God, 290
Of all gods ruler, O thou lustrous Sun,
'Tis only in his perils, then, it seems,
Have I been wife to Hercules. The gods
Have granted to the captive all my prayers;
For her behoof have I been fortunate.
Ye heard, indeed, my prayers, O gods of heaven,
And Hercules is safe returned--for her! 295
O grief, that no revenge can satisfy,
Seek out some dreadful means of punishment,
By man unthought of and unspeakable.
Teach Juno's self how slight her hatred is.
She knows not how to rage. O Hercules,
For me didst thou thy mighty battles wage;
For me did Acheloüs dye his waves 300
With his own blood in mortal strife with thee,
When now a writhing serpent he became,
Now to a threatening bull he turned himself,
And thou a thousand beasts didst overcome
In one sole enemy. But now, alas,
Am I no longer pleasing in thy sight,
And this base captive is preferred to me.
But this she shall not be. For that same day 305
Which ends our married joys shall end thy life.
But what is this? My rage begins to fail
And moderate its threats. My anger's gone.
Why dost thou languish thus, O wretched grief?
Wilt thou give o'er thy passion, be again
The faithful, uncomplaining wife? Ah no!
Why dost thou strive to check the flames of wrath? 310
Why quench its fire? Let me but keep my rage,
And I shall be the peer of Hercules,
And I shall need to seek no heavenly aid.
But still, though all uncalled, will Juno come
To guide my hands.

_Nurse:_ What crime dost thou intend,
O foolish one? Wilt slay thy noble lord, 315
Whose praises from the east to west are known,
Whose fame extends from earth to highest heaven?
For all the earth will rise to avenge his death;
And this thy father's house and all thy race
Will be the first to fall. Soon rocks and brands 320
Will be against thee hurled, since every land
Will its protector shield; and thou alone
Wilt suffer many, many penalties.
Suppose thou canst escape the world of men;
Still must thou face the thunderbolts of Jove,
The father of Alcides. Even now
His threat'ning torches gleam athwart the sky, 325
And all the heavens tremble with the shock.
Nay, death itself, wherein thou hop'st to find
A place of safe retreat--fear that as well;
For there Alcides' uncle reigns supreme.
Turn where thou wilt, O wretched woman; there
Shalt thou behold thy husband's kindred gods. 330

_Deianira:_ A fearful crime it is, I do confess;
But Oh, my passion bids me do it still.

_Nurse:_ Thou'lt die.

_Deianira:_ But as the wife of Hercules
I'll die; no night shall ever bring the day
That shall behold me cheated of my own,
Nor shall a captive mistress have my bed.
Sooner shall western skies give birth to day; 335
Sooner shall men of India make their home
Beneath the icy pole, and Phoebus tan
With his hot rays the shivering Scythians,
Than shall the dames of Thessaly behold
My downfall. For with my own blood I'll quench
The marriage torches. Either he shall die,
Or slay me with his hand. To all the beasts 340
Whom he has slaughtered let him add his wife;
Let me be numbered 'mongst his mighty deeds;
But in my death my body still shall claim
The couch of Hercules. Oh, sweet, 'tis sweet
To fare to Hades as Alcides' bride,
And not without my vengeance. If, indeed, 345
From Hercules my rival has conceived,
With my own hands I'll tear the child away
Untimely, and that shameless harlot face
Within her very wedding torches' glare.
And though in wrath upon his nuptial day
He slay me as a victim at the shrine,
Let me but fall upon my rival's corse,
And I shall die content. For happy he
Who drags with him his enemy to death. 350

_Nurse:_ Why dost thou feed thy passion's flames, poor child,
And nurse thy grief? Why cherish needless fear?
He did feel love for Iole, 'tis true;
But in the time while yet her father reigned,
And while she was a haughty monarch's child.
The princess now has fallen to the place
Of slave, and love has lost its power to charm, 355
Since her unhappy state has stol'n from her
Her loveliness. The unattainable
Is ever sought in love. But from the thing
That is within his reach love turns away.

_Deianira:_ Nay: fallen fortunes fan the flames of love;
And for this very reason does he love,
Because her home is lost, and from her head
The crown of gleaming gold and gems has fallen. 360
For these her woes he pities her--and loves.
'Twas e'er his wont to love his captive maids.

_Nurse:_ 'Tis true, he loved the captive Trojan maid,
Young Priam's sister; but he gave her up.
Recall how many dames, how many maids
Aforetime he has loved, this wandering swain. 365
The Arcadian maiden Auge, while she led
The choral dance of Pallas, roused his love
And suffered straight his passionate embrace.
But from his heart she quickly fell away,
And now retains no traces of his love.
Why mention others? The Thespiades
Enjoyed the passing love of Hercules, 370
But are forgotten. Soon, a wanderer
Upon Timolus, he caressed the queen
Of Lydia, and, smitten by her love,
He sat beside the whirling distaff there,
His doughty fingers on the moistened thread.
His neck no longer bears the lion's spoil;
But there he sits, a languid, love-sick slave,
His shaggy locks with Phrygian turban bound, 375
And dripping with the costly oil of myrrh.
Yes, everywhere he feels the fires of love,
But always does he glow with transient flame.

_Deianira:_ But lovers after many transient flames,
Are wont at last to choose a single love.

_Nurse:_ And could Alcides choose instead of thee
A slave, the daughter of his enemy? 380

_Deianira:_ As budding groves put on a joyous form
When spring's warm breezes clothe the naked boughs;
But, when the northwind rages in their stead,
And savage winter strips the leaves away,
Thou seest naught but bare and shapeless trunks:
So this my beauty, which has traveled far 385
Along the road of life, has lost its bloom,
And gleams less brightly than in former years.
Behold that loveliness--but Oh, whate'er
Was once by many suitors sought in me,
Has vanished quite; for toils of motherhood
Have stolen my beauty, and with speeding foot
Advancing age has hurried it away. 390
But, as thou seest, this slave has not yet lost
Her glorious charms. Her queenly robes, 'tis true,
Have yielded to the garb of poverty;
Still, through her very grief her beauty shines,
And nothing save her kingdom has she lost
By this hard stroke of fate. This fear of her 395
Doth vex my heart and take away my sleep.
I once was in the eyes of all the world
The wife most to be praised; and every bride
Longed for a mate like mine with envious prayers;
And every soul that asked the gods for aught,
Took me as type and measure of her vows. 400
What father shall I ever find, O nurse,
To equal Jove? What husband like to mine
In all the world? Though he, Eurystheus' self,
Beneath whose power my Hercules is placed,
Should take me for his wife, 'twould not suffice.
A trifling thing, to miss a royal couch; 405
But far she falls who loses Hercules.

_Nurse:_ But children often win a husband's love.

_Deianira:_ My rival's child perchance will win him too.

_Nurse:_ I think that slave is but a gift for thee.

_Deianira:_ This fellow whom thou seest wandering 410
Throughout our Grecian cities, big with fame,
A tawny lion's spoils upon his back,
And in his dreadful hand a massive club;
Who takes their realms away from haughty kings,
And gives them to the weak; whose praise is sung
By men of every land throughout the world: 415
This man is but a trifler, without thought
Of winning deathless glory for himself.
He wanders through the earth, not in the hope
That he may rival Jupiter, or go
With great renown throughout the towns of Greece;
His quest is ever love, the maiden's couch.
He takes by force what is refused to him; 420
He rages 'gainst the nations, seeks his brides
Amidst the ruins of a people's hopes.
And this wild carnival of lustful crime
Is by the honored name, heroic, called.
But now, illustrious Oechalia fell;
One sun, one day beheld it stand--and fall.
And of the strife the only cause was love.
As often as a father shall refuse 425
To give his daughter unto Hercules,
And be the father of his enemy,
So often need he be in mortal fear.
If he is not accepted as a son,
He smites in rage. Why then do I preserve
In harmless inactivity these hands,
Until he feign another fit of rage,
And stretch his bow with deadly aim at me,
And slaughter both his wife and child at once? 430
Thus 'tis his wont to put away his wives;
And such his cruel method of divorce.
But he cannot be held the guilty one!
For he contrives to make the world believe
That Juno is the cause of all his crimes.
O sluggish passion, why inactive stand?
Anticipate his crime, and act at once
While still thy hands are burning for the deed. 435

_Nurse:_ Wilt kill thy husband?

_Deianira:_ And my rival's too.

_Nurse:_ The son of Jove?

_Deianira:_ Alcmena's son as well.

_Nurse:_ With the sword?

_Deianira:_ The sword.

_Nurse:_ If not?

_Deianira:_ With guile I'll slay.

_Nurse:_ What madness this?

_Deianira:_ That which I learned of him.

_Nurse:_ Whom Juno could not harm wilt thou destroy? 440

_Deianira:_ Celestial anger only wretched makes
Those whom it touches; mortal wrath destroys.

_Nurse:_ Oh, spare thy husband, wretched one, and fear.

_Deianira:_ The one who first has learned the scorn of death,
Scorns everything. 'Tis sweet to meet the sword.

_Nurse:_ Thy grief is all too great, my foster-child;
Let not his fault claim more than equal hate. 445
Why dost so sternly judge a light offense?
Nay, suit thy grieving to thine injury.

_Deianira:_ But dost thou call a mistress light offense?
Of all that feeds my grief, count this the worst.

_Nurse:_ And has thy love for great Alcides fled?

_Deianira:_ Not fled, dear nurse, believe me; still it lies 450
Securely fixed within my inmost heart.
But outraged love is poignant misery.

_Nurse:_ By magic arts united to their prayers
Do wives full oft their wandering husbands bind.
I have myself in midst of winter's cold
Commanded trees to clothe themselves in green,
The thunderbolt to stop; I've roused the sea 455
When no wind blew, and calmed the swollen waves;
The thirsty plain has opened at my touch
To springs of water; rocks give way to me,
And doors fly open; when I bid them stand
The shades of hell obey, and talk with me;
The infernal dog is still at my command; 460
Midnight has seen the sun, midday the night.
For sea, land, heaven, and hell obey my will,
And nothing can withstand my potent charms.
Then let us bend him; charms will find the way.

_Deianira:_ What magic herbs does distant Pontus yield, 465
Or Pindus 'neath the rocks of Thessaly,
Where I may find a charm to bend his will?
Though Luna leave the stars and fall to earth,
Obedient to thy magic; though the crops
In winter ripen; though the hurtling bolt
Stand still at thy command; though all the laws 470
Of nature be reversed, and stars shine out
Upon the noonday skies--he would not yield.

_Nurse:_ But Love has conquered e'en the heavenly gods.

_Deianira:_ Perhaps by one alone he will himself
Be conquered, and give spoils of war to him,
And so become Alcides' latest task.
But by each separate god of heaven I pray, 475
By this my fear: what secret I disclose
Keep hidden thou and close within thy breast.

_Nurse:_ What secret wouldst thou then so closely guard?

_Deianira:_ I mean no weapons, arms, or threatening flames.

_Nurse:_ I can give pledge of faith, if it be free 480
From sin; for sometimes faith itself is sin.

_Deianira:_ Lest someone hear my secret, look about;
In all directions turn thy watchful gaze.

_Nurse:_ Behold, the place is free from curious eyes.

_Deianira:_ Deep hidden, far within this royal pile, 485
There is a cave that guards my secret well.
Neither the rising sun can reach the spot
With its fresh beams; nor can its latest rays,
When Titan leads the weary day to rest,
And plunges 'neath the ruddy ocean's waves.
There lies a charm that can restore to me 490
The love of Hercules. I'll tell thee all.
The giver of the charm was Nessus, he
Whom Nephele to bold Ixion bore,
Where lofty[27] Pindus towers to the skies,
And high above the clouds cold Othrys stands.
For when, compelled by dread Alcides' club 495
To shift with ready ease from form to form
Of beasts, and, overcome in every form,
At last bold Acheloüs bowed his head
With its one horn defiled; then Hercules,
Exulting in his triumph, claimed his bride
And bore me off to Argos. Then, it chanced, 500
Evenus' stream that wanders through the plain,
Its whirling waters bearing to the sea,
Was swollen beyond its banks[28] with turbid flood.
Here Nessus, well accustomed to the stream,
Required a price for bearing me across; 505
And on his back, where beast and human join,
He took me, boldly stemming every wave.
Now was fierce Nessus well across the stream,
And still in middle flood Alcides fared,
Breasting with mighty strides the eager waves;
When he, beholding Hercules afar, 510
Cried, "Thou shalt be my wife, my booty thou,
For Hercules is held within the stream;"
And clasping me was galloping away.
But now the waves could not thwart Hercules.
"O faithless ferryman," he shouted out,
"Though Ganges and the Ister join their floods, 515
I shall o'ercome them both and check thy flight."
His arrow sped before his words were done,
Transfixing Nessus with a mortal wound,
And stayed his flight. Then he, with dying eyes
Seeking the light, within his hand caught up 520
The flowing[29] gore; and in his hollow hoof,
Which he with savage hand had wrenched away,
He poured and handed it to me, and said:
"This blood, magicians say, contains a charm,
Which can a wavering love restore; for so
Thessalian dames by Mycale were taught, 525
Who only, 'midst all wonder-working crones,
Could lure the moon from out the starry skies.
A garment well anointed with this gore
Shalt thou present to him," the centaur said,
"If e'er a hated rival steal thy couch,
If e'er thy husband in a fickle mood
To heavenly Jove another daughter give. 530
Let not the light of day shine on the charm,
But in the thickest darkness let it lie.
So shall the blood its magic power retain."
So spake he; o'er his words a silence fell,
And the sleep of death upon his weary limbs.
Do thou, who knowest now my secret plans, 535
Make haste and bring this charm to me, that so
Its force, imparted to a gleaming robe,
May at the touch dart through his soul, his limbs,
And through the very marrow of his bones.

_Nurse:_ With speed will I thy bidding do, dear child.
And do thou call upon the god of love,
Invincible, who with his tender hand 540
Doth speed his arrows with unerring aim.

[_Exit_ Nurse.]

_Deianira_ [_invoking_ Cupid]: O wingéd boy, by earth and heaven
feared,
By creatures of the sea, and him who wields
The bolts in Aetna forged; and dreaded too
By thy relentless mother, queen of love:
Aim with unerring hand thy swiftest dart.
Not harmless be the shaft, but choose, I pray 545
One of thy keenest arrows, which thy hand
Has never used; for such must be thy dart
If mighty Hercules be forced to love.
Make firm thy hands and strongly bend thy bow;
Now, now that shaft let loose which once thou aim'dst 550
At Jove the terrible, what time the god
Laid down his thunderbolts, and as a bull
With swelling forehead clove the boisterous sea,
And bore the Assyrian maiden as his prize.
Now fill his heart with love; let him surpass
All who have ever felt thy passion's power--
And learn to love his wife. If Iole 555
Has kindled flames of love within his heart,
Extinguish them, and let him dream alone
Of me. Thou who hast often conquered Jove,
The Thunderer, and him whose scepter dark
Holds sway within the gloomy underworld,
The king of countless throngs, the lord of Styx; 560
Whom angry Juno cannot quell: win thou
Alone this triumph over Hercules.

_Nurse_ [_returning with robe and charm ready_]: The charm from its
dark hiding-place is brought,
And that fair robe upon whose cunning web
Thy maidens all have wrought with wearied hands.
Now bring the poisoned blood and let the robe 565
Drink in its magic power, while by my prayers
Will I the charm augment.
[_Enter_ Lichas.]
But at the word
The faithful Lichas comes. Quick! hide the charm,
Lest by his mouth our plot may be revealed.

_Deianira_ [_to_ Lichas]: O Lichas, ever faithful to thy lord,
A name which mighty houses may not boast: 570
Take thou this garment woven by my hands,
While Hercules was wandering o'er the earth,
Or, spent with wine, was holding in his arms
The Lydian queen, or calling Iole.
And yet, perchance, I still may turn his heart
To me again by wifely service. Thus
Have evil men full often been reclaimed. 575
Before my husband puts this tunic on,
Bid him burn incense and appease the gods,
His rough locks wreathed with hoary poplar leaves.
[Lichas _takes the robe and departs upon his mission_.]
I will myself within the palace go
And pray the mother of relentless love. 580
[_To her Aetolian attendants._]
Do ye, who from my father's house have come,
Bewail the sad misfortunes of your queen.

[_Exit._]

_Chorus of Aetolian women:_ We weep for thee, O lady dear,
And for thy couch dishonored--we,
The comrades of thy earliest years,
Weep and lament thy fate. 585
How often have we played with thee
In Acheloüs' shallow pools,
When now the swollen floods of spring
Had passed away, and gently now,
With graceful sweep, the river ran;
When mad Lycormas ceased to roll 590
His headlong waters on.
How oft have we, a choral band,
To Pallas' altars gone with thee;
How oft in Theban baskets borne 595
The sacred Bacchic mysteries,
When now the wintry stars have fled,
When each third summer calls the sun;
And when, the sacred rites complete
To Ceres, queen of golden grain,
Eleusin hides her worshipers
Within her mystic cave.
Now too, whatever fate thou fear'st, 600
Accept us as thy trusted friends;
For rare is such fidelity
When better fortune fails.
O thou, who wield'st the scepter's power,
Whoe'er thou art, though eagerly
The people throng within thy courts, 605
And press for entrance at thy doors;
And though the crowds press thick about
Where'er thou tak'st thy way: be sure
That in so many seeming friends,
Scarce one is true.
Erinys keeps the gilded gate;
And when the great doors swing apart, 610
Then cunning treachery creeps in
And fraud, and murderous dagger points.
Whene'er thou think'st to walk abroad,
Base envy as thy comrade goes.
As often as the morning dawns
Be sure a king from fear of death 615
Has been delivered. Few there are
Who love the king, and not his power.
For 'tis the glitter of the throne
That fires most hearts to loyalty.
Now one is eager next the king
To walk before the gaze of men,
And so gain luster for himself;
For greed of glory burns his heart. 620
Another from the royal stores
Seeks to supply his own desires;
And yet not all the precious sands
Of Hister's streams could satisfy,
Nor Lydia sate his thirst for gold;
Nor that far land where Zephyr blows,
Which looks in wonder on the gleam 625
Of Tagus' golden sands.
Were all the wealth of Hebrus his;
If rich Hydaspes were his own;
If through his fields, with all its stream,
He saw the Ganges flowing: still 630
For greed, base greed 'twould not suffice.
One honors kings and courts of kings,
Not that his careful husbandmen
Forever stooping o'er the plow
May never cease their toil for him;
Or that his peasantry may till 635
His thousand fields: but wealth alone,
Which he may hoard away, he seeks.
Another worships kings, that so
All other men he may oppress,
May ruin many, none assist;
And with this sole aim covets power,
That he may use it ill.
How few live out their fated span! 640
Whom yesternight saw radiant
With joy, the newborn day beholds
In wretched case. How rare it is
To find old age and happiness
Combined. More soft than Tyrian couch,
The greensward soothes to fearless sleep; 645
But gilded ceilings break our rest,
And sleepless through the night we lie
On beds of luxury.
Oh, should the rich lay bare their hearts,
What fears which lofty fortune breeds
Would be revealed! The Bruttian coast 650
When Corus lashes up the sea
Is calmer far. Not so the poor:
His heart is ever full of peace.
From shallow beechen cups he drinks,
But not with trembling hands; his food
Is cheap and common, but he sees 655
No naked sword above his head.
'Tis in the cup of gold alone
That blood is mingled with the wine.
The poor man's wife no necklace wrought
Of costly pearls, the red sea's gift, 660
May wear; no gems from eastern shores
Weigh down her ears; nor does she wear
Soft scarlet wools in Tyrian dye
Twice dipped; not hers with Lydian art
To 'broider costly silks whose threads 665
The Serians under sunlit skies
From orient treetops gather; she
With common herbs must dye the web
Which she with unskilled hands has wov'n:
But still her husband is her own, 670
Her couch by rivals undisturbed.
But favored brides, whose wedding day
The thronging people celebrate,
Fate with her cruel torch pursues.
The poor no happiness can know
Unless he sees the fortunate
From their high station fallen.
Whoever shuns the middle course 675
Can never in safe pathways go.
When once bold Phaëthon essayed
Within his father's car to stand
And give the day, and did not fare
Along the accustomed track, but sought
With wandering wheels to make his way 680
With Phoebus' torch 'midst unknown stars--
Himself he ruined and the earth
In one destruction. Daedalus
The middle course of heaven pursued,
And so to peaceful shores attained
And gave no sea its name. His son, 685
Young Icarus, dared rival birds
In flight, despised his father's wings,
And soared high up into the realm
Of Phoebus' rays: headlong he fell
And to an unknown sea his name
He gave. So are great fortunes joined 690
To mighty ills.
Let others then as fortunate
And great be hailed; I wish no share
Of popular renown. My boat
Is frail and needs must hug the shore.
And let no strong wind force my bark 695
Far out to sea; for fortune spares
Safe-harbored boats, but seeks the ships
In mid sea proudly sailing on,
Their topsails in the clouds.
But why with pallid face, in fear, 700
Like some Bacchante smitten sore
With madness, comes our princess forth?
What new reverse of fortune's wheel
Has come to vex thy tortured soul?
For though thou speakest ne'er a word, poor queen,
Whate'er thou hidest, in thy face is seen.

FOOTNOTES:

[27] Reading, _celsus_.

[28] Reading, _ripis_.

[29] Reading, _fluentem_.