The Trachiniae Deianira Of ancient fame, and long for truth received, Hath been the maxim, tliat nor good nor ill Can mortal life be called before we die. Alas ! it is not so ; for, oh ! my friends, Ere to the shades of Orcus I descend, Too well I know that Deianira's life Hath ever been, and ever must be, wretched. Whilst in my native Pleuron ^neus watched My tender years with kind paternal care, If ever woman suffered from the dread Of hated nuptials, I endured the worst And bitterest woes, when Achelous came, The river-god, to ask a father's voice, And snatched me to his arms. With triple form He came affrighting — now to sight appeared A bull, and i»w with motley scales adorned A wreathed serpent, now with human shape And bestial head united ; from his beard. Shadowed with hair, as from a fountain, dripped The ever-llo\nng water. Horrid form ! This to escape my prayers incessant rose That I might ratlier die than e'er approach His hated bed. When lo ! the welcome hovir, Though late, arrived, that brought the son of Jove And fair Alcmena to my aid. He came, He fought, he freed me. How the battle passed Who unconcerned beheld it best can tell. Alas ! I saw it not, oppressed with fear Lest from my fatal beauty should arise Some sad event. At length, deciding Jove Gave to the doubtful fight a happy end, If I may call it so ; for, since the hour That gave me to Alcides' wished-for bed Fears rise on fears ; still is my anxious heart Solicitous for him ; oftiraes the night. Which brings him to me, bears him from my arms To other labours and a second toil. Our children too, alas ! he sees them not, But as the husbandman who ne'er beholds His distant lands, save at the needful time Of seed or harvest. Wandering thus, and thus Returning ever, is he sent to serve I know not whom. When crowned with victory, Then most my feai-s prevail ; for since he slew We live in exile with our generous friend, The hospitable Ceyx ; he meantime Is gone, and none can tell me where. He went And left me most unhappy. Oh ! some ill Hath sure befallen him ! for no little time Hath he been absent ; 'tis full fifteen moons Since I beheld him, and no messenger Is come to Deianira. Some misfortune Doubtless hath happened, for he left behind A dreadful scroll. Oh ! I have prayed the gods A thousand times it may contain no ill. Attendant My royal mistress, long have I beheld Thy tears and sorrows for thy lost Alcides ; But if the counsels of a slave might claim Attention, I would speak — would ask thee wherefore Amongst thy sons, a numerous progeny, None hath been sent in search of him, and chief Thy Hyllus, if he holds a father's health And safety dear : but, e'en as we could wish, Behold him here ! If what I have advised Seem fitting, he is come in happiest hour To execute our purpose. Hyllus SCEISE 11. Deianira, Attendant. Deianira O my son I Oft from the meanest tongue the words of truth And safety flow. This woman, though a slave, Hath spoke what would have well become the mouth Of freedom's self to utter. Hyllus May I know What she hath said ? Deianira She says it doth reflect Disgrace on thee, thy father so long absent, Not to have gained some knowledge of his fate. Hyllus I have already, if I may rely On what report hath said of him. Deianira Oh, wliere — Where is he then, my son ^ Hyllus These twelve months past, If fame say true, a Lydian woman held him In shameful servitude. Deianira If it be so, May every tongue reproach him ! He now is free. Deianira And where doth rumour say He is ? alive or dead. Hyllus 'Tis said, he leads, Or means to lead, his forces towards Euboea, Tlie land of Eurytus. Deianira Alas ! my son, Dost thou not know the oracles he left Touching that kingdom ? Hyllus No, I know not of them ; What were they ? Deianira There, he said, or he should die. Or if he should survive, his life to come Would all be happy. Wilt thou not, my son, In this important crisis strive to aid Thy father? If he lives, we too shall live In safety. If he dies, we perish with him. Hyllus Mother, I go. Long since I had been there But that the oracle did never reach Mine ears before. Meantime that happy fate, Which on my father ever wont to smile Propitious, should not suffer us to fear ; Thus far informed, I will not let the means Of truth escape me, but will know it all. Deianira Haste then away, my son; and know, good deeds, Though late performed, are crowned with sure success. Chorus Scene III. Deianira, Attendant. On thee we call, great god of day, To whom the night, with all her staiTy train, Yields her solitary reign, To send us some propitious I'ay : Say thou, whose all-beholding eye Doth nature's every part descry. What dangerous ocean, or what land unknown From Deianira keeps Alcmena's valiant son. For she nor joy nor comfort knows, But weeps her absent lord, and vainly tries To close her ever-streaming eyes. Or soothe her sorrows to repose : Like the sad bird of night, alone She makes her solitary moan ; Aiid still, as on her widowed bed reclined She lies, unnumbered fears perplex her anxious mind. E'en as the troubled billows roar, When angry Boreas rules th' inclement skies. And waves on waves tumultuous rise To lash the Cretan shore : Thus sorrows still on sorrows prest Fill the great Alcides' breast ; Unfading yet shall his fair virtues bloom, And some protecting god preserve him from the tomb. "Wherefore, to better thoughts inclined, Let us with hope's fair prospect fill thy breast, Calm thy anxious thoughts to rest, And ease thy troubled mind : No bliss on man, unmixed with woe. Doth Jove, great lord of all, bestow ; But good with ill, and pleasure still with pain, Like heaven's revolving signs, alternate reign. Epode. Not always do the shades of night remain, Nor ever with hard fate is man oppressed ; The wealth that leaves us may return again, Sorrow and joy successive fill the breast ; Fearless then of every ill. Let cheerful hope support thee still : Remember, queen, there is a power above ; And when did the great father, careful Jove, Forget his children dear, and kind paternal love 1 TRACIIIMjE, Deianira Strophe i. Antistrophe i. Strophe 2. Antistrojjhe 2. The fame, it seems, of Deianira's woes Hatli reached thine ears, but oh ! thou little knowst What 1 have suffered ! Thou hast never felt Sorrows like mine. And long may be the time Ere sad experience shall aftiict thy soul With equal woes ! Alas ! the youthful maid In flowery pastures still exulting feeds, Nor feels the scorching sun, the wintry storm, Or blast of angry Secure she leads A life of pleasure, void of every care, Till to the virgin's happy state succeeds The name of wife. Tlien shall her portion come Of pain and anguish, then her terrors rise For husband and for children. Then perchance You too may know what 'tis to be unhappy, And judge of my misfortunes by your own. Long since oppressed by many a bitter woe Oft have 1 wept, but this transcends them all ; For I will tell thee, when Abides last Forth on his journey went, he left behind An ancient scroll. Alas ! before that time In all his labours he did never use To speak as one who thought of death — secure Always he seemed of victory ; but now This writing marks, as if he were to die, The portion out reserved for me, and wills Ilis children to divide th' inheritance ; Fixes the time, in fifteen moons, it saj^s. He should return. That past or he must perish, Or, if he 'scape the fatal houi", thenceforth Should lead a life of happiness and joy : Thus had the gods, it said, decreed his life And toils should end : so from their ancient beach Dodona's doves foretold. Th' appointed hour Approaehes that must bring th' event, e'en now, My friends, and therefore nightly do I start From my sweet slumbers, struck with deadly fear. Lest I should lose the dearest, best of men. Chorus Of better omen be thy words Behold A messenger, who bears (for on his brow Messenger Scene IV. Deianika, Attendant, Chorus. Messenger I come, my royal mistress, to remove Thy fears, and bring the first glad tidings to thee, To tell thee that Alcmena's son returns With life and victory ; e'en now he comes To lay before his country's gods the spoils Of glorious war. Deianira What dost thou say, old man ? What dost thou tell me 1 Messenger That thy dear Alcides, Thy valiant lord, with his victorious bands, Will soon attend thee. Deianira From our citizens Didst thou learn this, or from a stranger's tongue ? Messenger The herald Lichas, in yon flowery vale, But now reported, and I fled impatient Soon as I heard it, that 1 first might tell thee And be rewarded for the welcome tale. Deianira But wherefore tarries Lichas if he bring Glad tidings to me ? Messenger 'Tis impossible To reach thee, for the Melian people throng Around him — not a man but longs to know Some news of thy Alcides, stops his journey, Nor will release him till he hear it all. Spite of himself he waits to satisfy Their eager doubts ; but thou wilt see him soon. Deianira O thou who dwellst on (Eta's sacred top. Immortal Jove ! At length, though late, thou giv'.st The wished-for boon. Let every female now — You that within the palace do reside, And you, my followers here — with shouts proclaim The blest event ! For, lo ! a beam of joy, I little hoped, breaks forth, and we are happy. Quick let sounds of mirth and joy Every cheerful hour employ ; Haste, and join the festive song, You, who lead the youthful throng, On whom the smiles of prosperous fate, And Hymen's promised pleasures wait, Now all your lo Paeans sing To Phoebus, 3'our protector and your lung. And you, ye virgin train, attend, Not unmindful of your friend, His sister huntress of the gi'oves. Who still her native Delos loves — Prepare the dance, and choral lays, To hymn the chaste Diana's praise ; To her, and her attendant choir Of mountain-nymphs, attune the votive lyre. Ejyode, Already hath the god possessed My soul, and rules the sovereign of my breast ; Evoe, Bacchus I lo ! I come to join Thy throng. Around me doth the thyrsus twine And I am filled with rage divine ; See ! the glad messenger appean? To calm thy doubts, and to remove thy fears Let us our lo Pseans sing To Phoebus, our protector and our king. Deianira Strophe. Antistrophe. ACT II. Scene I. Chorus. Deianira These eyes deceive me, friends, or I behold A crowd approach this way, and with them comes The herald Lichas. Let me welcome him, If he bring joyful news. Lichas Scene II. Idle, Slaves, Deianira, Chorus. Lie. My royal mistress, We greet thee with fair tidings of success, And therefore shall our words deserve thy praise. Deianira O thou dear messenger ! Inform me first What first I wish to know, my loved Alcides, Doth he yet live — shall I again behold him? Lie. I left him well. In health and manly strength Exulting. Deianira Where? In his own native land, Or 'midst barbarians ? Lie. On Euboea's shore He waits, with various fruits to crown the altar, And pay due honours to Censean Jove. Deianira Commanded by some oracle divine Performs he this, or means but to fulfil A vow of gratitude for conquest gained ? Lie. For victory o'er the land, whence we have brought These captive women, whom thou seest before thee. Deianira Whence come the wretched slaves ? for if I judge Their state aright, they must indeed be wretched. Lie. Know, when Alcides had laid waste the city Of Eurytus, to him and to the gods Were these devoted. Deianira Ill CEchalia then Hath my Alcides been this long, long time? Lie. Not so : in Lydia (as himself reports) Was he detained a slave. So Jove ordained ; And who shall blame the high decrees of Jove ? Sold to barbarian Omphale, he served Twelve tedious months ; ill brooked he the foul shame. Then in his wrath he made a solemn vow He would revenge the wrong on the base author, And bind in chains his >vife and all his race : Nor fruitless the resolve, for when the year Of slavery past had expiated the crime Imputed, soon with gathered force he mai'ched 'Gainst the devoted Eurytus, the cause Within his palace he had erst received Alcides, but with bitterest taunts reviled him, Boasting, in spite of his all-conquering arrows, His son's superior skill, and Siiid a slave Like him should bend beneath a freeman's power ; Then, midst the banquet's mirth, inflamed with wine, Cast forth his ancient guest. This to revenge When Iphitus to search his pastured steeds Came to Tyrinthia, Hercules surprised, And, as he turned his wandering eyes aside. Hurled headlong from the mountain's top. Great Jov Father of men, from high Olympus saw And disapproved the deed, unworthy him Who ne'er before by fraud destroyed his foes ; With open force had he revenged the wrong Jove had forgiven, but violence concealed The gods abhoi-, and therefore was he sold To slavery. Eurytus' unhappy sons Were punished too, and dwell in Erebus ; Their city is destroyed, and they, whom here Thou seest, from freedom and prosperity. Reduced to wretchedness. To thee they come, Such was Alcides' will ; which I, his slave. Have faithfully performed. Himself ere long Thou shalt behold, whon to paternal Jove He hath fultilled his vows. Thus my long tale Ends with the welcomest news which thou couklst hear : Alcides comes ! Chorus (For so he deemed him) of those hateful bonds. O queen ! thy happiness Is great indeed, to see these slav^es before thee, And know thy lord approaches. Deianira I am happy — To see my Hercules with victory crowned 'Tis fit I should rejoice ; and yet, my friends, If we consider well, we still should fear For the successful, lest they fall from bliss. It moves my pity much when I behold These wretched captives in a foreign land, Without 8, parent and without a home.. Thus doomed to slavery here, who once perhaps Enjoyed fair freedom's best inheritance : O Jove ! averter of each mortal ill, Let not my children ever feel thy arm Thus raised against them? or, if 'tis decreed, Let it not be whilst Deianira Jives : The sight of these alarms my fears. But tell me Thou poor afflicted captive, who thou art. \To Idle. Art thou a mother ? or, as by thy years Thou seemst, a vii-gin, and of noble birth? Canst not thou tell me, Lichas, whence she sprang ? Inform me, for of all these slaves she most Hath won my pity, and in her alone Have I observed a firm and generous mind. Lie. Why ask of me 1 I know not who she is; Perhaps of no mean rank. Deianira The royal race Of Eurytus? Lie. 1 know not, nor did e'er Inquire. Deianira And didst thou never hear her name From her companions? Lie. Kever. I performed My v.'ork is silence. De.t. Tell me then thyself, Thou wretched maid, for I am most unhappy Till I know who thou art. Lie. She will not speak ; I know she will not. Not a word hnth pas.sed Her lips e'er since she left her native land, But still in tears the liapless virgin mourns The burthen of her sad calamity. Her fate is hard : she merits your forgiveness. Deianira Let her go in : I'll not disturb her peace, Nor would I heap fresh sorrows on her head, She hath enough already. We'll retire. Go where thou wilt ; my cares within await me. \To Idle. Messenger \Exmnt LicnAS, Tole, and Slaves. Scene III. Deianira, Chorus. Messenger Stay thee awhile. I have a tale to tell Touching these captives, which imports thee nearly, And I alone am able to inform thee. Deianira What dost thou know ? and why wouldst thou detain me ? Messenger Return, and hear me ; when I spake before 1 did not speak in vain, nor shall I now. Deianira Wouldst thou I call them back, or meanst to tell Thy secret purpose here to me alone ? Messenger To thee, and these thy friends — no more. Deianira They're gone. Now speak in safety. Messenger Lichas is dishonest, And either now, or when I saw him last, Hath uttered falsehood. Deianira Ha ! what dost thou say? I understand thee not— explain it quickly ! Messenger I heard him say, before attendant crowds, It was 4.his virgin, this fair slave destroyed That waged the war — no Lydian servitude, Nor Omphale, nor the pretended fall Of Iphytus — for so the tale he brings Would fain persuade thee. Know, thy own Alcides, For that he could not gain th' assenting voice Of Eurytus to his unlawful love, Laid waste the city where her father reigned, And slew him. Now the daughter, as a slave, Is sent to thee. The reason is too plain : Nor think he meant her for a slave alone — The maid he loves, that would be strange indeed ! My royal mistress, most unwillingly Do I report th' unwelcome news, but thought It was my duty : I have told the truth. Deianira (Echalia's lofty towers : 'twas love alone Wretch that I am ! To what am I reserved? What hidden pestilence within my roof Have I received unknowing ! Hapless woman ! She seemed of beauteous form and noble birth ; Have you not heard her name? for Lichas said He knew it not. Messenger Daughter of Eurytus, Her name lole ; he had not inquired Touching her race. Chorus Perdition on the man, Of all most wicked, who hath thus deceived thee ! Deianira What's to be done, my friend? This dreadful news Afflicts me sorely. Chorus Go, and learn the whole From his own lips ; compel him to declare The truth. Deianira I will ; thou counselst me aright. Chorus Shall we attend you ? Deianira No ; for see he comes, Uncalled. Lichas Scene IY. Deianira, Attendant, Messenger, Chorus. Lie. O queen ! what are thy last commands To thy Alcides? for e'en now I go To meet him. o Deianira ITast thou ta'cn so long a journey To Trachis, and wouldst now .so soon i*eturn, Vi\% 1 can hold some further converse with thee ] Lie. If thou wouldst question me of aught, behold me J'leady to tell thee. Deianira Wilt thou tell me truth \ Lie. In all I know ; so bear me witness, Jove ! Deianira Who is that woman thou has brought ? I.ic. I hear She's of Euboea ; for her race and name I know them not. Deianira Look on me ; who am I ? Lie. Why ask me this ? Deianira Be bold, and answer mo. Lie. Daughter of (Eneus, wife of Hercules, If I am not deceived 'tis Deianira, My queen, my mistress ? Deianira Am I so indeed ? Am I thy mistress ? Lie. Doubtless. Deianira Why, 'tis well Thou dost confess it : then wdiat punishment Wouldst thou deserve if thou wert faithless to her 1 Lie. How faithless ? meanst thou to betray me ? Deianira The fraud is thine. Lie. 'Twas folly thus to stay And hear thee. I must hence. Deianira Thou shalt not go Till I have asked thee one short question. Lie. Ask it, For so it seems thou art resolved. Deianira Inform me ; This captive — dost thou know her? Li<^'- I have told thee ; What wouldst thou more? Deianira Didst thou not say, this slave — Though now, it seems, thou knov/st her not — was daughter Of Eurytus, her name lole ! Lie. Where? To whom did I say this ? What witness have you ? Deianira Assembled multitudes. The citizens Lie. They might say they heard Reports like these. But must it therefore seem A truth undoubted? Deianira Seem "? Didst thou not swear That thou hadst brought this woman to partake The bed of my Alcides ? Lie. Did I say so? But tell me who this stranger is. Deianira The man Who heard thee say, Alcides' love for her, And not the Lydian, laid the city waste. Lie. Let him come forth and prove it. 'Tis no mark Of wisdom thus to trifle with th' unhappy. Deianira Oh ! do not, I beseech thee by that power Whose thunders roll o'er CEta's lofty grove, Do not conceal the truth. Thou speakst to one Not unexperienced in the ways of men — To one who knows we cannot always joy In the same object. 'Tis an idle task To take up arms against all-powerful love : Love which commands the gods. Love conquered me, And wherefore should it not subdue another, Whose nature and whose passions are the same? If my Alcides is indeed oppressed With this sad malady, I blame him not ; That were a folly. Nor this hapless maid, Who meant no ill, no injury to me. 'Tis not for this I speak. But, mark me well ; If thou wert taught by him to utter falsehood, A vile and shameful lesson didst thou learn ; And if thou art thy own instructor, know Thou shalt seem wicked e'en when most sincere, And never be believed. Speak then the truth ; For to be branded with the name of liar Is ignominy fit for slaves alone. And not for thee. Nor think thou canst conceal it ; Those who have heard the tale will tell it nie. If fear deters thee, thou hast little cause ; For to susi>ect his falsehood is my grief — To know it, none. Already have I seen Alcides' heart estranged to other loves, Yet did no rival ever hear from me One bitter word, nor will 1 now reproach This wretched slave, e'en though she pines for him With strongest love. Alas ! I pity her. Whose beauty thus hath been the fatal cause Of all her misery, laid her country waste, And brought her here, far from her native land, A helpless captive. But no more of this; Only remember, if thou must be false, Be false to others, but be true to me. Chorus She speaks most kindly to thee. Be persuaded. Hereafter thou shalt find her not ungrateful ; We too will thank thee. Lie. O my dearest mistress ! Not vinexperienced thou in human life, Nor ignorant. And therefore naught from thee Will I conceal, but tell thee all the truth : 'Tis as he said, and Hercules indeed Doth love lole. For her sake alone QCchalia, her unhappy country, fell ; This — for 'tis fit I tell thee — he confessed, Nor willed me to conceal it. But I feared 'Twould pierce thy heart to hear th' unwelcome tale, And therefore own I would have kept it from thee 3 That crime, if such it was, 1 have committed. But since thou knowst it all, let me entreat thee, For her sake and thy own, oh ! do not hate This wretched captive, but remember well, What thou hast promised faithfully perform. He, whose victorious arm hath conquered all, Now yields to her, and is a slave to love. Deianira 'Tis my resolve to act as thou advisest. I'll not resist the gods, nor add fresli weight To my calamity. Let us go in. That thou mayst bear my orders to Alcides, And with them gifts in kind return for those We have received from him. Thou must not hcn<e With empty hand, who hither broughtst to me Such noble presents and so fair a train. [Exeunt. Thee, Venus, gods and men obey, And universal is thy sway ; Need I recount the powers subdued by love? Neptune, who shakes the solid ground. The king of Erebus profound, Or, the great lord of all, Saturnian Jove ? To mortals let the song descend, To pity our afflicted friend. And soothe the injurd Deianira's woes : For her the angry rivals came. For her they felt an equal flame, For her, behold ! the doubtful battle glows. In dreadful majesty arrayed, Affrighting sore the fearful maid. Uprose the horned monarch of the flood ; He who through fair ^tolia's plain Pours his rich tribute to the main : A bull's tremendous form belied the god ; From his own Thebes, to win her love, With him the happier son of Jove, The great Alcides came, and in his hand The club, the bow, and glittering spear ; Whilst Venus, to her votaries near, Waved o'er their heads her all-deciding wand. Epode. Warm and more warm the conflict grows. Dire was the noise of rattling bows. Of front to front opposed, and hand to hand ; Deep was the animated strife For love, for conquest, and for life ; Alternate groans re-echoed thro' the land : Whilst pensive on the distant shore She heard the doubtful battle roar, Many a sad tear the hapless virgin shed ; Far from her tender mother's arms. She knows not yet for whom her charms She keeps, or who shall share her bridal bed. Deianira Scene V. Strophe. Antistrophe. \Ex,cunL ACT III. Scene I. Chorus. Deianira My guest, in pity to the captive train, Laments their woes, and takes his kind farewell ; Meantime, my friends, in secret came I here To pour forth all my miseries, and impart To you my inmost thoughts — my last resolve. Alas ! within these walls I have received, Like the poor sailor, an unhappy freight To sink me down : no virgin, but a wife — The wife of my Alcides ; his loved arms Now must embrace us both. My faithful lord — Faithful and good I thought him — thus rewards My tender cares, and all the tedious toils I suffered for him ; but I will be calm, For 'tis an evil I have felt before. And yet to live with her ! with her to share My husband's bed ! What woman can support it? Her youth is stealing onward to its prime. Whilst mine is withered ; and the eye which longs To pluck the opening flower from the dry leaf Will turn aside. Her younger charms, I fear, Have conquered, and henceforth in name alone Shall Deianira be Alcides' wife. But ill do rage and violence become The prudent matron ; therefore, mark me well, And hear what I have purposed to relieve My troubled heart. Within a brazen urn, Concealed from every eye, I long have kept That ancient gift which Nessus did bequeath me — The hoary centaur, who was wont for hire To bear the traveller o'er the rapid flood Of deep Evenus. Not with oars or sail He stemmed the torrent, but with nervous arm Opposed and passed it. Me, when first a bride I left my father's hospitable roof With my Alcides, in his arms he bore Athwart the current ; half way o'er, he dared To offer vi.olence. I shrieked aloud. When lo ! the son of Jove, his bow swift bent, Sent forth a shaft and pierced the monster's breast, Who with his dying voice did thus address me : " Daughter of CEneus, listen to my words. So shalt thou profit by the last sad journey Which I shall ever go. If in thy hand Thou take the drops outflowing from the wound This arrow made, dipped in the envenomed blood Of the Lernaean hydra, with that charm Mayst thou subdue the heart of thy Alcides, Nor shall another ever gain his love." Mindful of this, my friends — for from that hour In secret have I kept the precious gift — Behold a garment, dipped i' th' very blood. He gave me ; nor did I forget to add What he enjoined, but have prepared it all. I know no evil arts, nor would I learn them. For they who practise such are hateful to me. I only wish the charm may be of power To win Alcides from this virgin's love, And bring him back to Deianira's arms, If he shall deem it lawful, but if not I'll go no farther. Chorus Could we be assurec^ Such is indeed th' eflfect, 'tis well determined. TPACHINIjE, Deianira I cannot but believe it, tliough as yet Experience never hath confirmed it to me. Ciioii. Thou shouldst be certain ; thou but seemst to know If thou hast never tried. Deianira I'll try it soon. For see e'en now he comes out at the portal : Let him not know our purpose. If the deed Be wrong, concealment may prevent reproach ; Therefore be silent. Lichas Scene II. Deianira, Chorus. Lie. Speak thy last commands, Daughter of CEneus, for already long Have we delayed our journey. Deianira Know then, Lichas, That whilst thou commun'dst with thy friends, myself Have hither brought a garment which I wove For my Alcides ; thou must bear it to him. Tell him, no mortal must with touch profane Pollute the sacred gift, nor sun behold it, Nor holy temple, nor domestic hearth, Ere at the altar of paternal Jove Himself shall wear it. 'Twas my solemn vow Whene'er he should return, that, clothed in this, He to the gods should offer sacrifice. Bear too this token : he will know it well. Away ! Remember to perform thy office, But go no farther, so shall double praise And favour from us both reward thy duty. Lie. If I have aught of skill, by Hermes right Instructed in his art, I will not fail To bear thy gift, and faithful to report What thou hast said. Deianira Begone ! What here hath passeO Thou knowst. Lie. I do, and shall bear back the news That all is well. Deianira Thou art thyself a witness How kindly I received the guest he sent me. Lie. It filled my heart with pleasure to behold it. Deianira What canst thou tell him more ? Alas ! I fear He'll know too well the love I bear to him. Would I could be as certain he'd return it ! [Exeunt. You who on (Eta's craggy summit dwell, Or from the rock, whence gushing riv'lets flow, Bathe in the warmer springs below. You who near the Melian bay To golden-shafted Diana hymn the lay. Now haste to string the Ip^e, and tune the vocal shell, No mournful theme demands your pensive strain, But such as, kindled by the sacred fire. The Muses might themselves admire — A loud and cheerful song. For see. The son of Jove returns with victory, And richest spoils reward a life of toil and pain. Far from his native land he took his way : For twelve long moons, uncertain of his fate. Did we lament his exiled state. What time his anxious wife deplored, With never-ceasing tears her absent lord ; But Mars at last hath closed his long laborious day. Let him from fair Euboea's isle appear. Let winds and raging seas oppose no more. But waft him to the wished-for shore. Th' anointed vest's persuasive charms Shall bring him soon to Deianira's arms. Soon shall we see the great the loved Alcides here. Deianira Scene III. Stroplie I. Antistrophe i. Strophe 2. Antistrophe 2. ACT IV. Scene I. Chorus. Deianika. Alas ! my friends, I fear I've gone too far. Chorus Great queen, in what ? Deianira I know not what, but dread Something to come ; lest where I had most hope Of happiness, I meet with bitterest woe. Chorus Meanst thou thy gift to Hercules ? Deianira I do. Nor would I henceforth counsel those I loved To do a dark and desperate deed like this, Uncertain of th' event. Chorus How was it ? Speak, If thou canst teU us. Deianira Oh ! 'twas wonderful ! For you shall hear it. Know then, the white wool Wherein 1 wrapped th' anointed vest, untouched By any hand, dropped self -consumed away, And down the stone, e'en like a liquid, flowed Dissolving — but 'tis fit I tell you all — Whate'er the wounded centaur did enjoin me Mindful to practise, sacred as the laws On brazen tablets graved, I have performed : Far from the fire, and from the sun's warm beams He bade me keep the charm ; from every eye In secret hid, till time should call on me To anoint and use it. This was done : and now, The fleece m secret plucked, the charm prepared, Long from the sun within a chest concealed ; At length I brought it forth, and sent the gift To my Alcides, when behold a wonder, Most strange for tongue to tell, or heart of man E'en to conceive ! Perchance the wool I cast Into the sunshine ; soon as it grew warm It fell to dust, consuming all away In most strange manner, then from th' earth uprose In frothy bubbles, e'en as from the grape In yellow autumn jBlows the purple wine. I know not what to thinly ; but much I fear I've done a horrid deed. For, why, my friends, Why should the dying savage wish to serve His murderer ? That could never be. Oh no ! He only meant by flattery to destroy Me, his destroyer. Truth is come too late, And I alone have slain my dear Alcides ; I know that by his arrows Chiron fell, I know whate'er they touched they still were fatal, That very poison mingled with the blood Of dying Nessus, will not that too kill My Hercules? It must : but if he dies, My resolution is to perish with him ; Those, who their honour and their virtue prize, Can never live with infamy and shame. Chorus 'Tis fit we tremble at a deed of horror ; But 'tis not fitting, ere we know th' event, To give up hope, and yield us to despair. Deianira There is no hope where evil counsel 's ta'en. Chorus But when we err from ignorance alone, Small is the crime and slight tjie punishment ; Such is thy fault. Deianira The guiltless may talk thus, Who know no ill ; not those who are unhappy. Chorus No more ; unless thou meanst thy son should hear thee, Who now returns in search of thy Alcides ; Behold him here. Hyllus Scene IT. Deianira, Chorus. Hyllus Oh ! would that thou wert dead ! Would I were not thy son ! or, being so, Would I could change thy wicked heart ! Deianira My son, What means this passion? Hyllus Thou hast slain thy husband ; This very day my father hast thou slain. Deianira Alas I luy eliild, wliat sayst tlioii And therefore must be ; who can e'er undo The deed tliat's done ? Deianira \V1lMt W But who could say I did it \ Hyllus 1 saw it with these eyes ; 1 heaid it all From his own lips. Deianira Where didst thou see him tlien ? Tell me, oh ! quickly tell me. Hyllus ' If I must, Observe me well : when Hercules, returned From conquest, had laid waste the noble city i Ee to Euboea came, where o'er the sea, Which beats on every side, Oenseum's top Hangs dreadful, thither to paternal Jove His new raised altars in the leafy wood He came to visit : there did my glad eyes Behold Alcides first. As he prepared The frequent victim, from the palace came Lichas thy messenger, and wath him brought The fatal gift : wrapped in the deadly garment Without a blemish, firstlings of the spoil, He slew ; together next a hundred fell. The mingled fiock. Pleased with his gaudy vest, And happy in it, he awhile remained, Offering with joy his grateful sacrifice ; But, lo ! when from the holy victim rose The bloody flame, and from the pitchy wood Exhaled its moisture, sudden a cold sweat Bedewed his limbs, and to his body stuck As by the hand of some artificer Close joined to every part, the fatal vest ; Convulsion racked his bones, and through his veins, Like the fell serpent's deadly venom, raged ; Then questioned he the wretched guiltless Lichas By what detested arts he had procured The poisoned garb ; he, ignorant of all, Could only say it was the gift he brought From Deianira. When Alcides heard it. Tortured with pain, he took him by the foot, And hurled him headlong on a pointed rock That o'er the ocean hung; his brains dashed forth With mingled blood flowed through his clotted hair In horrid streams ; the multitude with shrieks Lamented loud the fury of Alcides, And Lichas' hapless fate ; none durst oppose His raging frenzy ; prostrate on the earth Kow would he lay and groan ; and now uprising "Would bellow forth his griefs ; the mountain-tops Of Locris, and Euboea's rocks returned His dreadful cries ; then on the ground outstretched, In bitterest wrath he cursed the nuptial bed Of QEneus, and his execrations poured On thee his worst of foes : at length his eyes, Distorted forth from the surrounding smoke, He cast on me, who midst attending crowds Wept his sad fate ; " Approach," he cried, " my son, Do not forsake thy father ; rather come And share his fate than leave me here, oh ! haste. And take me hence ; bear me where never eye Of mortal shall behold me. O my child, Let me not perish here." Thus spake my father, And I obeyed : distracted with his pains A vessel brings him to this place, and soon Living or dead you will behold him here. This have thy horrid machinations done For thy Alcides : Oh ! may justice doom thee To righteous punishment, if it be lawful For me to call down vengeance on a mother. As sure it is on one who hath disclaimed All piety like thee ; the earth sustains not A better man than him whom thou has murdered, Nor shalt thou e'er behold his like again. Chorus (_)f Kurytus, with fair triumphal spoils (For such was thy command) twelve oxen then \Exit Deianira. Whence this abrupt departure? Knowst thou not To go in silence thus confirms thy guilt? Hyllus Let her be gone ; and may some prosperous gale Waft her far off, that these abhorring eyes May never see her more ! What boots the name Of raothei', when no longer she i:)erforms A moihor's duty ? Let lier go in peace, And for her kindness to my father soon May she enjoy the blessing she bestowed ! True was the oracle divine, Long since delivered from Dodona's shrine, Which said, Alcides' woes should last Till twelve revolving years were past; Then should his labours end in sw^eet repose Behold, my friends, 'tis come to pass, 'Tis all fultilled ; for who, alas ! In peaceful death, or toil or slavery knows ? If deep within his tortured veins The centaur's cruel poison reigns. That from the Hydra's baleful breath Destructive flowed, replete with death, On him another sun shall never rise ; The venom runs through every part. And, lo ! to Nessus' direful art Alcides falls a helpless sacrifice. Poor Deianira long deplored Her waning charms, and ever faithless lord ; At length by evil counsel swayed Her passion's dictates she obeyed, Resolved Alcides' doubtful truth to prove ; But now, alas ! laments his fate In ceaseless woe, and finds too late A dying husband, and a foreign love. . Another death must soon succeed, Another victim soon shall bleed, Fatal, Alcides, was the dart That pierced the rival monarch's heart, And brought lole from her native land ; From Yenus did our sorrows flow. The secret spring of all our woe, For nought was done but by her dread command. Or I'm deceived, or I did hear loud shrieks Within the palace ; 'twas the voice of one In anguish ; doubtless some calamity Hath fallen upon us now. What can it be 1 But see, yon matnon, with contracted brow And unaccustomed sadness, comes to tell The dreadful news. Nurse Strophe i. Antistroplie i. Strojyhe 2. Antistrophe 2. [^Exeunt, ACT v. Scene I. \A noise within the Palace.^ Scene II. Chorus. Nurse What woes, my hapless daughter; Alcides' fatal gift hath brought upon us ! Chorus What dost thou tell us ? Nurse Deianira treads The last sad path of mortals. Chorus Is she gone ? NuiisE. 'TIs so indeed. Cnoii. What! dead? NuiisE. Again I say She is no more. Cjigu. Alas ! how did she perish ? NuKSE. Most fearfully : 'twas dreadful to behold. Chorus How fell she then ? Nurse By her own hand. Chorus But wherefore ? What madness, what disorder, what could move her To perpetrate so terrible a deed ? Thus adding death to death. Nurse The fatal steel Destroyed her. Chorus Didst thou see it ? Nurse I was by, Close by her side. Chorus How was it ? Nurse Her own arm Struck the sad blow. Chorus Indeed ! Nurse Most veritably. Chorus In evil hour this rival virgin came To bring destruction here. Nurse And so she did ; Hadst thou Hke me been witness to the deed, Thou wouldst much more have pitied her. Chorus Alas ! How could a woman do it ? Nurse 'Twas most dreadful, As thou shalt hear, for I will tell thee all : Soon as she entered at the palace gate And saw her son prepare the funeral bed. To th' inmovst chamber silent she retired From every eye, there, at the altar's feet Falling, lamented loud her widowed state ; And ever as she lit on aught her hands Had used in happier days, the tears would flow ; From room to room she wandered, and if chance A loved domestic crossed her she would weep And mourn her fate, for ever now deprived Of converse sweet, and hymeneal joys ; Then would she strew her garments on the bed Of her Alcides (for, concealed, I watched Her every motion), throw herself upon it, And as the tears in a warm flood burst forth, " Farewell ! " she cried, " for ever farewell now, My nuptial couch ! for never shalt thou more Keceive this wretched burthen." Thus she spake, And with quick hand the golden button loosed, Then cast her robe aside, her bosom bared And seemed prepared to strike. I ran and told The dreadful purpose to her son ; too late We came, and saw her wounded to the heart. The pious son beheld his bleeding mother, And wept ; for well he knew, by anger fired, And the fell centaur's cruel fraud betrayed, Unweeting she had done the dreadful deed. Close to her side he laid him down, and joined His lips to hers, lamenting sore that thus He had accused her guiltless ; then deplored His own sad fate, thus suddenly bereaved Of both his parents. You have heard my tale. Who to himself shall promise length of life ? None but the fool. For, oh ! to day alone Is ours. We are not certain of to-morrow. Chorus Which shall I weep ? which most our hefli'ts should fill With grief, the present or the future ill? The dying or the dead? 'Tis equal woe To feel the stroke, or fear th' impending blow. Oh ! for a breeze to waft us o'er Propitious to some distant shore ! To sliield our souls from sore affright, And save us from the dreadful sight : That sight the hardest heart would move In his last pangs the son of Jove ; To see the poison run through every vein, And limbs convulsed with agonising pain. Behold th' attendant train is nigh, I hear the voice of misery ; E'en ;is the plaintive nightingale, That warbles sweet her mournful tale ; Silent and slow they lead him on ; Hark ! 1 hear Alcides groan ! Again 'tis silence all ! This way they tread ; Or sleeps he now, or rests he with the dead ? Hercules Strophe. Antiatrophe. Scene III. Hyllus, Nurse, Chorus, Attendants. Hyllus Alas ! my father; whither shall I go ? Wretch that 1 am. Oh ! where shall I betake me ? What will become of thy afflicted son ? Attendant Speak softly, youth, do not awake his pains ; Refrain thy grief, for yet Alcides lives, Though verging to the tomb ; be calm. Hyllus What sayst thou ? Doth he yet live ? Attendant He doth ; disturb not thus His^slumbers, nor provoke the dire disease. Hyllus Alas ! I cannot bear to see him thus. Hercules \aiDakes\. O Jove ! where am I, and with whom ? What land Contains the wretched Hercules, oppressed With never-ending woes ? Ah me ! again The deadly poison racks me. Attendant \to Hyllus], Seest thou not 'Twere better far to have remained in silence, And not awaked him. Hyllus 'Twas impossible Unmoved to look on such calamity ; I could not do it. Hercules O Censean rocks ! Where smoke the sacred altars, is it thus, O Jove ! thou dost reward my piety? What dreadful punishment is this thy hand Hath laid on me, who never could deserve Such bitter wrath ? What incantations now, Old Man What power of medicine can assuage my pain^ Unless great Jove assisted? Health to me Without him were a miracle indeed. Let me, oh ! let me rest ; refuse me not A little slumber ; why will ye torment me ? Why bend me forward ? Oh ! 'tis worse than death ; Had you not waked me, I had been at peace. Again it rages with redoubled force ; Where are you now, ye thankless Grecians, where. Whom I have toiled to serve on the rough main, And through the pathless wood? Where are you now To help a dying wretch ? Will no kind hand Stretch forth the friendly sword, or in the flame Consume me? None, alas ! will cut me off From hated life. It is beyond my strength ; thy quicker sight May be more useful. Hyllus My poor aid is ready ; But wheresoe'er I am, 'tis not in me To expel the subtle poison that destroys him ; Such is the will of Jove. Hercules My son, my son ! Where art thou? Bear me up, assist me. Oh ! Again it comes, th' unconqnerable ill, Draw forth thy sword, my son ; strike, strike thy father, And heal the wound thy impious mother made. Oh ! could I see her like myself destroyed, I should be happy ! Brother of great Jove, Sweet Pluto, hear me 1 Oh ! with speedy death Lay me to rest, and bury all my woes. Chorus The anguish of th' unhappy man, my friends, Is terrible ; I tremble but to hear him. Hercules What hath this body suffered? Oh ! the toils, The labours I endured, the pangs I felt, Unutterable woes ! but never aught So dreadful as this sore calamity. Oppressed Alcides ! Not the wife of Jove, Nor vile Enrystliens, could torment me thus, As, CEneus, thy deceitful daughter hath. Oh ! 1 am tangled in a cruel net, Woven by the Fui-ies : it devours my flesh. Dries up my veins, and drinks the vital blood ; My body 's withered, and I cannot Ijreak Th' indissoluble chain. Nor hostile spear. Nor earth-born giants, nor the savage herd, The wild Barbarian, or the Grecian host, Not all the nations I have journeyed o'er Could do a deed like this. At last I fall, Like a poor coward, by a woman's hand, Unarmed and unassisted. O my son ! Now prove thyself the ofi'spring of Alcides ; Nor let thy reverence of a mother's name Surpass thy duty to an injured father. Go, bring her hither, give her to my wrath, That 1 may see whom thou wilt most lament When thou beholdst my vengeance fall on her. Fear not, my son, but go. Have pity on me, Pity thy father : all must pity me. Whilst they behold, e'en as the tender maid, Alcides weep, who never wept before. I bore my sorrows all without a groan. But now thou seest I am a very woman. Come near, my child. Oh ! think what I endure. For I will show thee. Look on this poor body — Let all behold it : what a sight is here ! O me ! again the cruel poison tears My entrails, nor affords a moment's ease. Oh ! take me, Pluto, to thy gloomy reign ; Father of lightning, mighty Jove, send down Thy bolt, and strike me now ! Again it racks, It tortures me ! O hands ! that once had strength, And you, my sinewy arms, was it by you The terrible Nemsean lion fell. The dreadful hydra, and the lawless race Of centaurs ? Did this withered hand subdue The Erymanthian boar — wide-wasting plague ! ^nd from the shades of Orcus drag to light The triple-hen ded monster ? By this arm Did the fierce guardian of the golden fruit In Libya's deserts fall ? Unnumbered toils Have I endured of old, and never yet Did mortal bear a trophy from Alcides. But nerveless now this arm— see, from the bone Darts the loose flesh. I waste beneath the power Of this dark pestilence. O Hercules ! Why boast thy mother sprung of nobler race, And vainly call thyself the son of Jove? But, mark me well : this creeping shadow still, Poor as it is, shall yet revenge itself On her who did the execrable deed. Would she were here to feel my wrath, to know And teach mankind that Hercules, though dead, As whilst he lived, can scourge the guilty still ! Chorus Unhappy Greece ! How wilt thou mourn the Of such a man? [loss Hyllus Permit me but to speak. Distempered as thou art, my father, hear me ; Nought shall I ask unfit for thee to grant ; Be calm and listen to me ; yet thou knowst not How groundless thy complaints, and what new joy Awaits thee still. Hercules Be brief then, and inform me ; My pains afflict me so I cannot guess Thy subtle purpose. Hyllus 'Twas to speak of her. My mother ; 'twas to tell thee of her state And how unweeting she offended thee. Hercules Thou worst of children ! Wouldst thou then defend The murderer of thy father? Dar'st thou thus Recall the sad remembrance of her crime? Hyllus It must not be concealed ; I know too well I can no longer hide it. Hercules What ! Her guilt ? 'Tis known already. Hyllus Thou It not always think so. Hercules Speak then, but take good heed thou sho\y thyself Worthy thy father. Hyllus Know then, she is dead. Hercules Oh ! dreadful, murdered ? By what hand ? Hyllus Her own. Hercules Would she had fallen by mine ! Hyllus Alas ! my father, Didst thou know all, thy anger would be changed To pity for her. Hercules That were strange indeed ; Why dost thou think so ? Hyllus She did mean thee well, But erred unknowing. Hercules Meant she well to slay Thy father? Hyllus Thy new marriage was the cause : She had prepared a philtre for thy love, And knew not 'twas a poison. Hercules But say, who Could give her this? Hyl The savage centaur Nessus, Who did persuade her it would restore thy love Given to another wife. Hercules Undone, Alcides ! I die, my child ; there is no life for me. vVlas ! I see it now ; I see my woes ; Hyllus away, thy father is no more ; Begone, and call thy brothers, call Alcmena, The wife, alas ! in vain, the wife of Jove ; Go, bring them here, that wdth my latest breath I may declare my fate long since foretold By oracles divine. Hyllus Alcmena 's gone To Tyrinth. With her many of thy sons Remain. Some dwell at Thebes, the rest are here, And wait with me to hear and to obey thee. Hercules Then listen to me, for the time is come When thou must prove thy.self indeed my son. Know, Jove, my heavenly sire, long since foretold I was not born to perish by the hand Of living man, but from some habitant Of Pluto's dark abode should meet my fate. The centaur Nessus — so was it fulfilled — Though dead destroyed me. But I'll tell thee more, New oracles confirmed the old, for know When to the Selli's sacred grove I came — The wandering priests who o'er the mountains roam, And rest their wearied limbs on the cold ground — An ancient oak prophetic did declare That if I lived to this decisive hour, Here all my labours, all my toils should end. I thought it told me I should live in peace. Alas ! it only meant that I must die. For death will put an end to every care. Since thus it is, my son, thou too must join To ease Alcides. Let me not reproach thee, But yield thy willing aid, nor e'er forget The best of laws, obedience to a father. Hyllus Thy words affright me ; but declare thy purpose — Behold me ready to perform thy orders Whate'er they be. Hercules First give me then thy hand. Hyllus But why this pledge, and wherefore ansious thus Dost thou require it? Hercules Wilt thou give it me Or dost refuse? Hyllus There, take it ; I obey. Hercules First swear then by the head of Jove my bire. Hyllus I will ; but what ? Hercules Swear that thou wilt perform All I enjoin thee. Hyllus Bear me witness, Jove ! I swear. Hercules And imprecate the wrath divine If thou performst it not. Hyllus I shall not fail ; But if I do, may vengeance swift o'ertake me ! Hercules Tliou knowst the top of QEta's sacred hill. Hyllus I know it well, and many a sacrifice Have oftered there. Heu. Tliat is the destined place, Where thou, assisted by thy chosen friends, My son, must bear the body of Alcides ; There shalt thou cut thee many a leafy branch From the wild olive and deep-rooted oak, Then cast me on it, take thy torch, and light My funeral pile ; without one tear or groan Unmanly do it, if thou art my son ; For if thou failst, remember, after death A father's curses will sit heavy on thee. Hyllus Alas ! my father, what hast thou commanded? What hast thou bade me do? Hercules What must be done. Or thou art not the son of Hercules. Hyllus a dreadful deed ! And must I then become A parricide, and murder thee ? Hercules Oh, no ! My kind physician, balm of all my woes. Hyllus Myself to cast thee in the flames ! Is that An office fit for me ? Hercules If that alone Seem dreadful to thee, yet perform the rest. Hyllus I'll bear thee thither. Hercules Wilt thou raise the pile ? Hyllus I will do anything but be myself Thy executioner. He;r. 'Tis well, my son ; But one thing more, and I am satisfied ; 'Tis but a little. Hyllus Be it e'er so gi'eat, I shall obey. Hercules Thou knowst the virgin daughter Of Eurytus. Hyllus lole? Hercules Her, my son ; Eemember, 'tis a father's last command, And thou hast sworn obedience. That lole I do bequeath thee ; take her to thy arms When I am dead, and let her be thy wife : It is not fitting she who lay by th' side Of Hercules to any but the son Of Hercules should e'er descend ; to thee Alone I yield her. Speak not, but obey me ; After thy kind compliance, to refuse So slight a favour were to cancel all. Hyllus \ciside\. Alas ! distempered as he is, to chide him Were most unkind ; and yet, what madness this ! Hercules Thou wilt not do it then? Hyllus What ! marry her Who slew my mother ! her, who hath brought thee To this sad state ! It were an act of frenzy : Death be my portion rather than to live With those I hate. Hercules \tuming to the Chorus]. He will not pay me then The duty which he owes a dying father ! But if thou dost not, curses from the gods Await thee. Hyllus Oh ! thou rav'st ; it is the rage Of thy distemper makes thee talk so wildly. Hercules Thou hast awakened all my woes ; again They torture now. Hyllus Alas ! what doubts arise, What fears perplex me ! Hercules Meanst thou to dispute A father's will ? Hyllus Must I then learn of thee To do a wicked deed ? Hercules It is not wicked If I request it of thee. Hyllus Is it just? Hercules It is ; the gods are witnesses 'tis just. Hyllus Then by those gods I swear I will perform What thou commandst : I never can be deemed Or base, or impious, for obeying thee. Hercules 'Tis well, my son ; one added kindness more, And I am satisfied : before the racks Of dire convulsion, and the pangs of madness Again attack me, throw me on the pile. Haste then, and bear me to it, there at last I shall have peace and rest from all my sorrows Hyllus Since 'tis thy will, my fatlier, we Rubmit. Hercules Now, ere the dreadful malady return, Be firm, my soul, e'en as the hardened steel; Suspend thy ciies, and meet the fatal blow With joy and pleasure ; bear me hence, my fnends, For you have shown yourselves my friends indeed, And prove the base ingratitude of those From whom I sprang, the cruel gods, who saw Unmoved the woes of their unhappy son. 'Tis not in mortal to foresee his fate ; Mine is to them disgraceful, and to me Most terrible — to me of all mankind The most distressed, the poor, the lost Alcides. Chorus lole, come not forth, unhappy virgin, Already hast thou seen enough of woe, And yet fresh sorrows wait thee ; but remember, All is decreed, and all the work of Jove.