The Trachinian Virgins Deianira DEIANIRA, FEMALE ATTENDANT. OF old this saying hath 'mongst men been famed, That of man's life, till death hath closed the scene We know not to decide, to term it blest, Or wretched. Of my life I can decide, Ere to the regions of the dead I go; I know it to misfortune doom'd, and grief. E'en with my father Eneus when I dwelt At Pleuron, much I suffer'd through the dread, More than Ætolian virgin ever felt, Of hated nuptials; for the River came My wooer, Achelöus; in three forms Me of my father he demanded; now He walk'd a Bull, a Dragon now he roll'd His spotted wreaths, now wore the human form With a Bull's head disfigured, copious streams Of fountain water flowing down his cheeks With hair thick-shaded. Dreading to receive A wooer so abhorr'd, my constant wish Was death, to such a bridal bed preferr'd. At length, though late, th' illustrious son of Jove And of Alcmena came, to me what joy! He with the monster in fierce fight engaged, And set me free: his dangerous toils distinct I cannot tell thee, for I know them not; Whoe'er unterrified beheld that sight, Let him relate it; all my sense was lost In fear, lest sorrows fatal to my peace My beauty should perchance produce. At length The arbiter of battles, sovereign Jove, Disposed th' event to glory and to joy, If joy: for wedded now to Hercules, My much-loved hero, fear succeeding fear Anxious for his dear sake I still sustain; cause. The inhabitants of Memphis, he says, ended their harvest about the time when the Sun enters the Bull; that animal therefore became the symbol of harvest and plenty in that distinguished province: and they gave the Nile the head of a Bull, to shew that he was the father of the harvests of Ægypt; and this is the reason why other rivers are described under the same form; for though they do not overflow, like the Nile, yet they never fail to fertilize the plains through which they wind their course. Histoire du Ciel poetique. For the night brings him to me, and the night Drives him away to toil that follows toil. I bore him children; these he seldom sees; As one that hath acquired far distant fields, Which only when he sows and when he reaps He visits; such the life, that brings my lord Back to his house, and ever sends him thence On some harsh service: now, these toils achieved, I thence feel greater fears; for since he slew The mighty Iphitus, at Trachin here Exiled we dwell, with hospitable rites Received; but whither he is gone none knows; But he is gone, with pangs of piercing grief Rending my heart, for I have cause to fear That evil hath befall'n him; no short time, But ten slow months have roll'd away, and five Added to these, yet absent he remains, Nor have I tidings of him; there must be Some dreadful ill; at his departure such The writing he left with me; to the gods My earnest supplications oft I pour That no affliction thence may be derived. Attendant My mistress, Deianira, I long time Have seen thy sorrows and thy frequent tears, Mourning the absence of thy lord: and now If by a slave's advice the nobly born May be admonish'd; me if it becomes So to presume; whence is it that with sons Thus blest, not one of them is sent to seek Thy lord; and Hyllus chief, whom most the charge Beseems, if aught his father's welfare moves His anxious care? And see, with manly step He to the house advances: if my words Deserve attention, thou hast now the pow'r To give th' important mandate to the youth. DEJA. My child, my son, the meanly born may give Generous advice: this woman, though a slave, Hath spoken what denotes a liberal mind. Hyllus HYLLUS, DEIANIRA, ATTENDANT. Inform me what, if I may be inform'd. Deianira Thy father absent in a distant land So long, she deems it shame that search by thee What region thus detains him is not made. Hyllus If credence to report be due, I know. Deianira Where doth fame say, my son, that he resides ? Hyllus All the past year in sordid tasks employ'd, And by a Lydian woman held a slave. Deianira If he bore this, what more may we not hear? Hyllus It is reported he hath burst those bonds. Deianira Living or dead where is he said to be? Hyllus In arms, and in Eubæœa, 'gainst the state Of Eurytus advanced, or on his march. Deianira Know'st thou th' unerring prophecies, my son, That land respecting, which he left with me? Hyllus What are they? Never have they reach'd my ear. Deianira That there his life will end; or, conquest there Obtain'd, his future days shall all be bright, Without one cloud of adverse fortune more. And wilt not thou, my son, whilst now his fate Hangs doubtful, fly to aid him? For with him We share one fortune; in his fall we fall, And in his safety we our safety find. Hyllus Mother, I go: had this prophetic voice Been earlier known to me, I had long since Been present to his aid; now, thus inform'd, These things attentive I will trace, nor cease Till all the truth I know: but the success, My father's arms accustom'd to attend, Forbids dismay, and all excess of fear. Deianira Go then, my son; good fortune, though late known, Brings a warm welcome to the anxious mind. Chorus STRO. 1. O thou, whom saphir-spangled Night (That vanquish'd flies before thy golden ray) Calls forth thy orient lustre to display, And curtains close thy setting light, To thee, O Sun, I call; declare, Bright blazing through the lucid air, Where dwells the hero through this length of time? Where does Alcmena's son reside? Rolls he on ocean's billowy tide? Lies he reposed in some soft eastern clime, Or where decline thy west'ring rays? Oh say, for all thy piercing eye surveys ! ANTIS. 1. Desire, and doubt, and anxious fear Incessant harrow Deianira's breast; Like the poor bird that wails her widow'd nest, As from her eye still streams the tear, Mindful she mourns her lord, each thought With terrors at his wand'rings fraught, And at imagined dangers melts away: As on her lonely couch she lies, The sleepless night she wastes in sighs, And sinks to sorrow and despair a prey; Whilst to her fancy ills unknown In all their hideous threat'ning shapes are shown. As when with terror we behold From South or North the wild winds sweep, Waves after waves with fury roll'd Swell the vex'd bosom of the deep; Such is the Theban Hero's state, Tost in the ceaseless storms of fate. Toils rise on toils, an endless train, As billows on the troubled main; Yet to his virtues just some god Saves him from Pluto's drear abode. Let me then blame thy anxious fear; Far other views if I display, My words bring comfort to thy ear: Thou shou'dst not throw sweet Hope away. The sovereign ruler of our fate Gives mortals no untroubled state; But joy and grief are ever found Revolving their alternate round, As circling in the Arctic skies... The constellations set and rise. Nor Night in sable stole array'd O'er mortals always spreads her solemn shade; Nor always griefs remain, Nor riches; their light wings at once they spread, Away at once are fled; The heart now welcomes joy's bright train, Now sickens at th' approach of pain. Then sink not, Queen, with griefs opprest, But let hope brighten in thy breast; Jove o'er his sons his care extends, And all his glorious race defends. Deianira STRO. 2. ANTIS. 2. BPOD. Inform'd, I ween, of my afflictions thou Art present here: what anguish rends my heart May'st thou ne'er know by suffering; thou as yet Art inexperienc'd. Youth at random roves O'er its own flow'ry fields; nor scorching heat Nor show'r annoys it, nor the noxious force Of boisterous winds; in pleasures it supports A life that knows not trouble, till the name Of virgin now is lost in that of wife: Then first she shares anxiety; the night Then for her husband bids her wake to fears, Or for her children; then she may be taught By her own feelings what th' oppressive woe That weighs me down. My tears have often flow'd For many sufferings; but my present griefe Springs from such cause as never rose before; This I will tell thee. When my royal lord On his last emprize issued from his house, He left with me a writing of old date, His mandates, which before when marching forth To many contests he forbore to show,.! But went as to o'ercome, and not to die. But now, as to return no more, he gave In charge what portion for my nuptial dow'r I should receive, and to his sons assign'd do To each his share of his paternal land and N Nay, he the time determined; from these realms Beyond the complete year three waining moons/ Should he be absent, then the fates required That he must die; the dangers of that timeo Should he surmount, then all his future life! Will pass unshaded with affliction's cloud, To all the toils of Hercules, he said, Such is the period by the gods assign'd; Thus at Dodona the prophetic Doves Gave from their ancient beech the voice of fate. These truths are certain, and the present time Gives dreadful expectation of th' event; So that, loved virgins, from sweet sleep I start, Distracted with my fears lest I remain Now of the noblest of mankind bereaved. Chorus Be thy words now of happier import; see A messenger arrives; his laurel wreath Gives token that his tidings are of joy. Attendant ATTENDANT, DEIANIRA, CHORUS. My royal Mistress, I am come the first To bear thee tidings, which from all thy fears Will set thee free: know then Alcides lives, And is victorious; to his country's gods He brings the consecrated spoils of war. Deianira What dost thou tell me? What import thy words? Attendant To thy warm wish thy husband in his house Will soon appear with his victorious force. Deianira This information from the citizens Attendant Received, or from some stranger, dost thou bring? The herald Lichas in the verdant mead These things announces loud. I heard, and ran The first to greet thee with these words of joy, To win thy favour, and obtain some boon. Deianira Why comes he not, of triumphs if he speaks ? Messenger That is not easy, Lady; all her sons Melia pours forth, who eager to inquire Throng close around him, and retard his steps; Impatient each the welcome news to learn, Till all his ardent wish be gratified, Suffers him not to pass; hence his delay, To him unpleasing, grateful to the croud : But soon thou may'st expect to see him here. Deianira O Jove, adored on the uncultured mead Of Œta, thou, though tedious the delay, Hast giv'n us joy. Ye virgins, who abide Beneath this royal roof, and you who tread With me this court, raise high th' enraptured voice. Of gratulation; for beyond my hopes On me a ray of orient brightness beams. In the chaste and secret shrine Raise the loud and festive strain, Thou, for whom the virgin train Bids the nuptial torches shine. Let the spritely youths around Catch the sweet entrancing sound, And to the golden-quiver'd king, To Phœbus, Pæans, joyful Pæans sing. Virgins rise, the raptures share ; To Ortygian Dian high Swell the voice of harmony: Hers the double torch to bear; Hers the flying hind to chase 'Midst the Nymphs of mountain-race: I rise sublime; without controul Thou reign'st, sweet Pipe, the monarch of my soul. The Thyrsus round with ivy twin'd To raptured frenzy swells my mind; I long to join the Bacchic train : Evoe! Raise th' extatic strain. Now bid farewell, loved queen, to woe: See, in pure streams thy joys begin to flow. Deianira STRO. ANTIS. EPOD. I see, loved virgins, yes, my watchful eye, Not faithless to its office, sees this train. Deianira LICHAS, DEIANIRA, CHORUS. Herald, to joy I welcome thee, though late Be thy arrival, if thou bring'st me joy. Lichas With joy we greet thee, lady, and with joy Are greeted; such the meed our acts deserve. The hero, that with glory hath achieved: 1 His enterprize, the voice of welcome earns. Deianira Thou art most welcome. First, what most I wish, Tell me, alive shall I receive my lord?? Lichas I left him in sound health, alive, and high In vigorous strength, with no disease oppress'd. Deianira Where? In his native, or a foreign land? Lichas On the Euboic strand, where he prepares Altars and offerings to Cenæan: Jove, Deianira A vow? or by some oracle required? Lichas A vow, when his victorious spear laid wastél The country of these women, whom thou seest. Deianira Who, by the gods, and whence are thesed If right I judge of misery, wretched is their state.!! Lichas These, when the town of Eurytus hé razed, He for himself selected, and the gods. Deianira Advanced against this town was he engaged .... In tedious war all this vast length of time? Lichas No: but in Lydia he was long detain'd Not free, such his account, but sold a slave. We should not censure, Lady, what appears Wrought by the hand of Jove. Betray'd, and sold To the barbaric Omphale, he pass'd... One tedious year a slave: but the disgrace So stung his noble soul, that with an oath He vow'd the author of this wrong, his wife, And children should be slaves; nor vow'd in vain; But, expiation made, with social hosts Vengeful he march'd against the rampired walls Of Eurytus, for him of all mankind Alone he deem'd the cause of his disgrace, Who, to his hearth when he approach'd, a friend With hospitable rites received of old, Insulted him aloud with taunting words, And all the outrage of an hostile mind; Reviling him as holding in his hands Arrows by fate assign'd to reach the mark, But that his sons excell'd him in the skill To draw the bow; that by the nobly born He as a slave should be trod down and crush'd; Nay more, with wine when heated from his house: He spurn'd him forth. Indignant at these wrongs, O'er the Tirynthian hills when Iphitus Search'd for his steeds that from their pastures roved, His eye on other objects bent, his mind On other thoughts engag'd, he hurl'd the youth From the steep summit of the tow'ring rock. Offended at the deed Olympian Jove, The supreme king and father, sent him thence. To slavery sold, nor brook'd a treacherous act Unpractised but against this hapless youth: With manly fortitude and front to front In arms had he opposed him, heav'n's high king Had pardon'd him, and deem'd his vengeance just; But base insidious wrong the gods abhor. But all those boasters, whose reviling tongues Were wanton in their insolence, have now Their mansions in the gloomy realms beneath, And their proud city is enslaved. These dames, Which here thou seest, from high and happy life Sunk to this wretched state attend thy will. Such are thy lord's commands, which I perform With faithful zeal. When to his father Jove The hallow'd victims for his conquest vow'd Are slain, expect him here: of my long speech, Though grateful all, this gives thee highest joy. Chorus Now, royal lady, certain joy is thine; This captive train gives proof of his report. Deianira Yes, my heart feels it; I have cause, just cause Of joy; it bounds to hear my lord returns Victorious; all within me is alive To tender sympathy. Yet those, who deep Resolve the change of fortune, must have fears Lest he, who triumphs now, may some time know A sad reverse. E'en now, my friends, my heart Feels the warm touch of pity, while I see These wretched females from their country torn, Torn from their parents, in a foreign land To exile doom'd; yet these perhaps are sprung From generous lineage, but must now sustain A servile life. O Jove, whose guardian pow'r Averts misfortune, never may I see My offspring by thy anger thus assail'd; Or if to sufferings thou hast doom'd them, spare My anguish, nor inflict them whilst I live! Such are my fears, these females as I view. But who amidst this youthful train art thou ? Ill chance is thine: unmarried is thy state? Or dost thou feel a mother's grief? Thy mein Denotes thee virgin, and of noble blood. Who is this stranger, Lichas? Whence her birth? Tell me: my pity most for her is mov'd, For she alone shows fortitude of mind. Lichas What can I know? Why ask of me? Perchance She may from no ignoble race be sprung. Deianira Is she from Eurytus of royal birth? Lichas I know not; nor minute inquiry made. Deianira From her associates heard'st thou not her name? Lichas No: for in silence I my charge perform'd. Deianira Speak then unhappy virgin; let thy voice Deianira Inform me; for I feel a soft concern, Messenger And painful not to know thee who thou art. Lichas She will not speak; nor hath she to this hour Unlock'd her lips, or ever utter'd word; But obstinate in silence mourns her weight Of misery, always weeping since she left Her desolated country: her ill fate Moves thee to pity and to pardon her. Deianira Then let her be indulged, and in the house- Find courteous treatment: to her present ills I would not that from me fresh grief, her griefs Augmenting, she receive; she hath enough Of woe already. To our houses now Let us all go; where thy occasions call, Go thou; domestic duties claim my care. Attendant DEIANIRA, ATTENDANT, CHORUS. Stay yet a little, that from these apart Thou may'st be shown what persons to thy house Thou hast admitted. Truths, of which no part Thou yet hast heard, and which behoves thee hear, I know, and can with faithful zeal impart. Deianira What wou'dst thou say? Why thus detain me? Attendant Stay, And hear me: not before did I abuse Thy ear with false reports; nor shall I now. Deianira Those, late departed hence, should I recal, Attendant ATI. Or to these virgins wou'dst thou speak, and me. To thee and these I speak without restraint; But let those go. Well, they are gone; now speak. Nothing of what this herald lately said Accorded with the laws of honest truth; But now he utters falsehoods, or before Dared to deceive the ear with false reports. Deianira What say'st thou? Plainly tell me all thy thought: Thy words are dark; I understand them not. I heard this man, and many present heard His words, declare that for this virgin's sake This war 'gainst Eurytus Alcides made, Messenger And the high-tower'd Echalia. Love alone Of all the gods incited him to arms; And not his Lydian slavery, and base tasks By Omphale commanded, nor the death Of Iphitus hurl'd headlong from the rock. This love conceal'd, the herald other pleas Devised. But when his lord had urged in vain The sire to give the daughter to his bed In secret nuptials, he assign'd some cause Of slight and trivial charge to march in arms Against her country, where the royal throne Was held by Eurytus; he slew the king Her father, and his wasted city razed. Her, as thou seest, returning he now sends Thus, lady, not without peculiar care, - Not as a slave; admit not such an hope; It is not to be thought, since love inflames His soul. By duty prompted I to thee What was my chance to learn from him disclose : And this, not I alone, but many heard; Assembled he declared it; and to these I make appeal. Unwelcome to thy ear If what I tell thee, I have no delight In speaking it, but what I speak is truth. Deianira Unhappy me, what snares enclose me round! Ah, what a secret pest have I received Beneath my roof! This wretch then hath no name, So he that led her swore, with all these charms, This beauteous form, and dignity of mien! Attendant From Eurytus she drew her royal birth And Iole her name; yet of her race He could not speak, he no inquiries made.: Chorus Ruin to all the base I would not wish ; But perish he, who forms the vile design With dark and treacherous baseness to betray. Deianira How, virgins, should I act? For at this tale In wild amazement all my sense is lost. Chorus Go, make inquiries of the man, add threats Of torture, soon he will confess the truth.;..." Deianira I go: to thy advice my mind accords. Chorus Should we wait thee here? or what thy will? Deianira Stay here: for see, the man, uncall'd by me. Of his own will advances from the house. Lichas DEIANIRA, LICHAS, ATTENDANT, CHORUS. What wou'dst thou, Lady, that I bear in charge To Hercules? I hasten my return. Deianira After so long an absence why so soon Depart, ere my inquiries I renew? Lichas More wou'dst thou ask? I to inform thee stay. Deianira But wilt thou answer me with honest truth? Lichas To what I know; be witness mighty Jove! Deianira Who is this woman, hither whom thou led'st? Lichas A native of Eubea; of what race Attendant I know not. Herald, fix thine eye on me. Know'st thou to whom thou speak'st? Lichas With what intent That question dost thou ask? Attendant If thou dost bear The spirit of a man, be bold, and speak. Lichas To Deianira, to the queen I speak, Daughter of Œneus, wife of Hercules, My royal mistress; or I see in vain. Attendant This was my wish to know. Didst thou not say She is thy royal mistress ? Lichas With just right... Attendant Tell me what punishment is then thy due. If to thy mistress thou art found not just? Lichas And how not just? With what insidious wiles Wou'dst thou ensnare me? Attendant Fear not wiles from me; Thy thoughts are all employ'd on wiles. Lichas I go, Unwise thus far to hear thee. Attendant Hence thy foot Thou shalt not stir till, one short question ask'd, I have thy answer. Lichas Ask whate'er thou wilt; Thy tongue, it seems, can speak. Attendant This captive then, Whom thou hast brought, who is she? dost thou know? Lichas Who is she? Why is this inquiry made ? Attendant Hast thou not said that she, on whom thine eye Look'd as on one unknown, was nobly born Of Eurytus, and Iole her name? Lichas To whom said this? Whom bring'st thou to attest That from my lips such words he ever heard? Attendant The citizens: for the Trachinians round In crouds assembled heard thee speak these words. Lichas I said indeed I heard this; but to speak On mere imagination, and to affirm Messenger As certain, merit not a like regard. Imagination! Didst thou not on oath Declare thou brought'st the wife of Hercules Lichas I say she was his wife! Now, by the gods, Who, honour'd lady, is this stranger here? Attendant One, who in person heard thee say his arms Subdued the country for this virgin's sake : That not his Lydian slavery, but the love Of her spread devastation o'er her realms. Lichas The man is frentic: Lady, send him hence: With such to hold vain converse is not wise. Deianira By Jove, who rolls his thunders through the grove That shades the brow of Eta, do not hide The truth: to no base woman wilt thou speak, Noi an untaught mind that hath not mark'd Man's nature, form'd not always to delight In what once pleases. He, 'gainst Love who stands In daring opposition, is unwise. Love at his pleasure lords it o'er the gods, O'er me too; why not o'er another then E'en such as I? Should I then blame my lord As vanquish'd by this pow'r; or should I blame This woman, who to me causes no ill, Nor brings dishonour, I were mad indeed. It is not so. But if by him thy mind To falsehood hath been train'd, no honest lore Hast thou been taught : if from thyself thou draw'st This glozing science, when thy heart shall prompt To open faith, distrust with jealous eye Will look on thee as base: let then thy tongue Always speak truth: on the free man, who bears The hateful brand of falsehood, shame attends. Can'st thou escape detection ? Vain that hope: What thou to many hast divulged, to me Some will disclose. If thou hast fears, those fears Are vain and causeless: not to be inform'd, Aye, that indeed would grieve me; but to know, Can that be dreadful? Hath not Hercules Admitted others to his nuptial bed, And many? Yet not one of those e'er heard Harsh word from me, or keen reproach; nor now Shall this Eubœan, though with love she melt His yielding heart. Her, most of all the train, Soon as I saw, I pitied: well I know Her beauty hath undone her; cruel fate, And not her will, hath on her country brought Ruin and slavery. Of these things no more; I give them to the winds. But mark thou well My charge, on others practise thy deceits, But always let thy tongue speak truth to me. Chorus This is for thine advantage; be advised: The time will come when thou wilt not repent So doing; my esteem too thou wilt gain. Lichas My honour'd mistress, since I see thee moved By soft humanity, and not unlearn'd In human nature, I no more will hide Aught from thy knowledge, but disclose the truth. It is as this man said; with love of her Was Hercules inflamed; and for her sake Her father's realm, Echalia, by the spear Was wasted wide. These things (for of my lord Thus I must speak) he gave me not in charge To hide, nor were they by himself disown'd: This fault was mine, if it be deem'd a fault; For I was fearful, lady, lest thy breast By tidings so unwelcome I should wound. And now, since all the truth to thee is known, For his sake, for thine own, with kindness treat This woman; be thy promised courtesy Confirm'd; for he, who glorious in his might Triumph'd o'er all, is by her love subdued. Deianira Such is my purpose; no augmented load Of ills spontaneous on myself to draw, Contending with the gods. Retire we now Beneath this royal roof, thou shalt receive My mandates; for his presents in return I shall send presents; these too thou shalt bear; Not to send something by thee were unjust, Who camest attended with a splendid train. Chorus STRO Sovereign, resistless in her sway O'er the charm'd heart victorious Venus reigns. Not her sweet force, which Gods obey, Which Jove's firm soul subdued, attunes these strains; Which taught the gloomy Pow'r to bow, The monarch of the realms below; And him, who gives his thundering waves to roar, And furious shake the solid shore. To other themes these humbler strains belong:... In arms contending for this bride, The contest dust, and toil, and wounds decide. Rising in all his strength the Flood, In form a Bull terrific to the sight, Ætolian Achelous stood, With horns his threat'ning forehead arm'd for fight. From Thebes the Chief of mighty fame Fierce to the rough encounter came, The son of Jove; his massy club he rears, His bow unbent, his arrows bears. Inflamed with jealous love and rival rage In horrid combat they engage; While Venus with severe delight Awards the prize, and arbitrates the fight. Dauntless each the fight provokes, Loud the thunder of their strokes; The clanging bow now aims the wound; With dreadful clash the Bull's strong horns resound. Now front meets front, the furious blow With horrid conflict threatens death; Now in strong grasp each struggling foe Strains every nerve, and lab'ring pants for breath. Meanwhile the beauteous Nymph, whose charms Inflamed the combatants to arms, Anxious and doubtful of her fate Conspicuous on the river's margin sate; (My song records the voice of fame) All was suspence and awful dread, Till victor now the hero came, And from her mother's arms the trembling virgin led. DBIA. Whilst with these female captives in the house My guest, on his departure bent with speed, Holds converse, unobserved to you, my friends, Hither I come, to tell you what device These hands have form'd, and for my sufferings raise Your sympathetic pity; for no more A virgin deem I that I here received, But one who shares his bed; as in his bark The mariner admits a baneful freight. And now the same embrace in the same couch We both await: such is the recompense The good and faithful Hercules, so call'd, Repays me for my long and anxious care. Yet my heart knows not anger that he yields Oft to this weakness; but to live with her In the same house, with her my nuptial bed To share, what woman can bear this? I see Her age, it daily opens to fresh bloom, While mine is in the sere: the eye of man Delighted views the vernal glow, and loves To crop the flow'r; but from the fading leaf Turns with disgust away: hence rise my fears Lest Hercules, in vain my husband call'd, Give to her younger beauties all his love. Yet not for this doth anger, as I said, Become a prudent woman. But, my friends, What I possess of pow'r to heal my griefs I will inform you. In a brazen vase A present from the ancient Centuar long Have I preserv'd; while yet in. youth's fresh bloom This from the shaggy Nessus I received When dying from his wound. It was is wont O'er the deep flood Evenus rolls to bear For hire, who wish'd to reach the further bank, In his strong arms; nor dashing oar was his, Nor barge with-swelling sails. Me thus he bore, When, unattended with my father's train I followed Hercules; but when he reach'd The middle of the stream, his wanton hands 'Gainst modesty transgress'd; I cried aloud: The son of Jove sprung forward, in his hand His ready bow, from which a feather'd shaft Wing'd with impetuous fury pierced his side. Me then the dying monster thus address'd, Daughter of aged Œneus, I no more Shall pass this flood; but since my arms have borne Thee their last charge, derive thou thence this good, Observant of my words: Preserve with care The clodded blood which issues from my wound; The gore of the Lernæan Hydra tinged: The blacken'd shaft; this will have pow'r to charm The heart of Hercules to thee assured; That never woman shall his eyes behold Fair and attractive of his love, like thee. To memory this recalling (for with care The dying Centaur's gift I have preserved) With it, my friends, this vestment I have tinged, Nothing omitted which he gave in charge While yet he lived. These things are now prepared. The boldness of ill arts I would not know, I would not learn; those women I abhor Who dare attempt them: yet her youthful bloom Could I by charms o'ercome, and sooth the heart Of Hercules to love, I would assay Their potency: but if you deem th' attempt Unmeet, or void of force, I will forbear. Chorus ANTIS. EPOD. DEIANIRA, CHORUS. If thou hast aught of confidence in deeds Like this, we judge that thou hast purposed well. Deianira My confidence is only such as gives Strength to opinion, not assured by proof. Chorus Then put it to the proof; opinion else, Though built on reason, no assurance yields. Deianira We soon shall know, for Lichas from the gate I see advance; he quickly will be here. Only be secret; for e'en shameful things In dark concealment are secured from shame. Lichas LICHAS, DEIANIRA, CHORUS. Daughter of Eneus, give me thy commands; Too long already I have linger'd here. Deianira Lichas, in this my care hath been employ'd, Whilst converse with the strangers thou hast held, That thou may'st bear this beauteous-woven vest, Wrought by my hands, a present to thy lord. This give him, with a charge that but himself No mortal in it proudly be array'd; Nor ever let the sun's resplendent beam Behold it, nor the altar's sacred flame, Nor the bright-blazing hearth, till he shall stand In public view, and show it to the gods, When on some solemn day the victim bleeds: For such my vow, if e'er I saw or heard That he return'd in safety, with this robe To deck his person, that before the gods Gorgeous in new attire he might appear, And offer sacrifice. Bear this, in proof I gave such charge; my signet he will know. Now go, and take good heed not to presume Beyond thy orders; so shalt thou obtain A double meed, my favour and thy lord's. Lichas The duty of an herald it is mine With firmness to discharge; nor e'er to thee Will I be false; but, as it is, present This chest, and faithfully relate thy words, Deianira Go then: the state of my domestic charge Lichas Thou know'st. I know it, Lady, and shall say That all things by thy prudent care are safe. Deianira Thou know'st, for thou hast seen, how I received This stranger, with what friendly courtesy. Lichas I saw it, and my heart was rapt with joy. Deianira Is there aught else I wish thee to relate? My love to him, I fear, thou may'st report, Ere of his love to me I am assured. Chorus STRO. 1. You, on the cliffs, whose jutting brow O'erhangs the dashing wave, At whose soft foot the warm springs flow The weary limbs to lave; On Œta's summits rudely piled Who fix your habitations wild; You, who the Melian bay command, The golden-quiver'd Virgin's strand, Or near the rocky straits reside Where Greece her Chiefs in council views with pride; Soon shall you hear the pipe's sweet sound; To you it comes again; No mournful notes it breathes around But sprightly is the strain; And, with such airs as joy inspire, Rivals the Muses' heav'nly lyre. The winged hours the hero bring, Son of Alcmena and heav'n's king; He comes, he chases all our fears, And the rich spoils of every virtue bears. The hero absent from our state Twelve tedious moons we mourn, Whilst anxious Expectation sate, And watch'd his wish'd return, Unknown what seas he ploughs with pain, What shores his lingering steps detain. Meanwhile his fond wife melts in tears, ' And yields her heart a prey to fears : But Mars now bids his fury cease, And closes his long day of toils in peace. ANTIS. 2. May he arrive, e'en now arrive Nor let the lab'ring oar Forbear his welcome bark to drive On Trachin's shouting shore, But bring him from the island shrine, Where now he offers rites divine. Yes, let him come with all the fire Of eager love and fond desire; Come, as the Centaur's words profest, Wrapt in persuasion's medicated vest ! Deianira ANTIS. 1. STRO. 2. DEIANIRA, CHORUS. I fear, my female friends, that I have done More than became me in my late attempt. Chorus Daughter of royal Eneus, what hath chanced ? Deianira I know not; but misgivings sink my mind, Lest it should soon appear that I have done, Impell'd by honest hope, some mighty ill. Chorus Thy presents to thy lord, cause they this fear? Deianira So strongly, that I never will advise A promptness to a deed of dark event. Chorus If we may know, inform us whence thy fear. Deianira A thing, my friends, hath happen'd far beyond All thought, and big with wonder. You shall hear. The soft wool sever'd from the snow-white fleece, With which I lately ting'd the robe, at once Wasted and, touch'd by none within the house, Shrunk self-corroded into dust, and lay A loose heap on the surface of the stone. That thou may'st know each circumstance, distinct Shall my relation be, and giv'n at large. Whate'er the dying Centaur, 'midst the pangs Of the keen arrow in his side infix'd, Gave me in charge, I treasured in my heart, As characters indelibly engraved On brazen tablets: his instructions these, And I obey'd them; from the blazing hearth, And by the warm beams of the sun untouch'd, Close-cover'd still to keep this potent charm Fresh, till occasion should require its use. I did so: and when now my thought resolved To put its virtue to the proof, retired In secret, wool from my domestic stores I for the purpose took, and tinged the vest; Then folded it, and laid it, as you saw, In a close chest by the sun's beams untouch'd. Again returning I beheld a sight No language can express, nor could the thought Of man conceive; the wool, wherewith I tinged The vest, I chanced to throw where the sun's rays Beam'd in full force; as it grew warm, it shrunk And wasted on the ground, like the light dust Which falls beneath the saw, like this it lay: But soon the swelling mass in froth arose, Fermenting like the grape's rich juice, that drops Pour'd in grey autumn on the earth. My mind Ho Is troubled, and perplex'd with fears: I see That I have done some dreadful deed; for whence This kindness by the dying Centaur shown, Or why to me, through whom the savage died? It is not so; but, wishing to destroy The author of his wound, he filed his tongue To sooth my ear with glozing courtesy. This I too late perceive, for now to know Avails not: I alone, ah wretched me! (If with false fears my soul is not deceived) Have wrought his ruin: well I know the shaft That gave the wound; e'en Chiron the divine Fell by its fatal point; to every beast Its touch is death; and the black poison, mix'd With the vile Centaur's blood, shall now destroy My lord too. Such my fears. But should he die, Fix'd is the purpose of my soul, with him I too will die: for who could bear to live With infamy, that has a sense of shame, And a base nature holds in high disdain? Chorus Horror at dreadful deeds must seize the soul; But ere th' event hope should not be renounced. Deianira But in designs, which honour does not own, There is no hope that harbours confidence. Chorus To those who err in judgment, not in will, Anger is gentle: Lady, such be thine. Deianira The stranger to affliction thus may speak; But not the wretch who shares the dreadful ill. Chorus The time now calls for silence; on this theme Unless thou wou'dst hold converse with thy son, Who went to seek his father; he is here. Hyllus HYLLUS, DEIANIRA, CHORUS. My mother, oh that thou wert now no more; Or, if alive, that to some other son Thou wert a mother; or to holier thoughts The present temper of thy mind were changed. Deianira What have I done that merits this rebuke? Hyllus Know then the dire event: this fatal day Thy husband and my father thou hast slain. DEIA: Ah wretched me ! What hast thou said, my son? Hyllus What cannot be recall'd: the deed once done, Where is the pow'r can render it not done? Deianira What may this mean, my son? By whom inform'd Say'st thou that I have done this hateful deed? Hyllus I saw my father's suff'rings, with these eyes I saw them, nor by others was inform'd. Deianira Where didst thou see him? where attend him? say. Hyllus If thou wou'dst know it, I must tell thee all. The far-famed town of Eurytus destroy'd, The trophies of his conquest, and the spoils He to Cenæum brought, a rocky point High-rising on the Eubean shore, and wash'd On each side by the sea; his altars there, And the green foliage of a grove, he raised To Jove his father; there my longing eyes With joy first saw him: but as he prepared The various victims, hence his servant came, The herald Lichas, and thy present brought, The fatal vest: with this, for such thy charge, He robed himself, and slew twelve beauteous bulls Selected from the play; but to the god An hundred various victims he had brought. At first th' unhappy hero, with a mind Cheerful and joying in his gorgeous robe, Offer'd his vows; but when the bloody flame Blazed from the hallow'd sacrifice, and heat Glow'd from the unctuous firs, close to his sides And to each limb, as by some artist fix'd, The robe abhered; and through his bones shot fierce Convulsive pains; then as the poisonous gore Of the detested Hydra rankled deep, He ask'd th' unhappy Lichas, for thy crime In nothing blamable, by whose base arts He brought this robe: unconscious what he brought Th' ill-fated herald said, from thee alone It was a present to his charge assign'd, And brought as he received it. At these words, Rack'd as he was with agonizing pains, He seized him by the foot above the part Where the joint bends, and dash'd him 'gainst the rock Projecting o'er the waves that wash its sides; A mingled mass of hair, and brains, and blood Flow'd from his shatter'd head; th' assembled crouds Lament the hero's sufferings, and the fate Of Lichas; but of all the train not one Had courage to approach him: to the ground One while he bent convulsed; anon erect He cried aloud; the promontories round, The rocks of Locris, and Eubœa's heights Resounded with his cries: but now grown faint, And oft with anguish writhing on the earth, With many a groan he cursed thy nuptial bed, Inhuman as thou art, to his repose So fatal; cursed thy father's bridal rites, Whence to his life this pest. Then through the mist, That darken'd o'er him, his distorted eyes He rais'd, and saw me 'midst the numerous croud, Weeping his fate; he look'd on me, and cried My son, come to me; do not fly my ills, Though with thy dying father thou shou'dst die; But bear me hence, and see thou lay me where No mortal may behold me: if thy soul Is sensible of pity, from this land Remove me; haste, that here I may not die. Thus as he urged, we placed him in a bark, And brought him to this shore, no easy task, Roaring aloud through anguish; him thou soon Or living wilt behold, or lately dead. This 'gainst my father have thy arts devised, This hast thou done, my mother; and this deed May rigorous justice on thy head repay, And the avenging Fury, if my pray'rs Be righteous: they are righteous: thou hast cast All that is righteous from thee, and hast slain The best, the noblest man the earth could boast: His equal never more shalt thou behold. Chorus Without reply why dost thou haste away? Silence, be thou assured, confirms the charge. Hyllus Nay, let her go; and may a favouring gale Swell as she goes, and waft her from my sight. Why should I cherish with a son's fond pride The name of mother? Nothing hath she done That shows a mother's part: let her then go, And take this farewell with her, May she find Such joys as to my father she hath given. Chorus STRO. 1. See, virgins, see, the doom of old By the prophetic voice foretold Advances with impetuous speed, For thus the fates decreed, "Twelve times the moon shall bend her silver bow, "Then rest from toils the son of Jove shall know." See, th' event with secret force Onward holds its destin'd course; For he, who sinks to Pluto's peaceful shore, Is to toils a slave no more. For if the Centaur o'er his head Guileful the sanguine cloud has spread; If from the venom-tinctured vest He feels the rankling pest Of death and of the spotted Hydra born, How shall he see another orient morn? Ours the hero to deplore Wasted by the Hydra's gore, As the rough Centaur's wiles their pangs impart, Burning in his tortured heart. Nurse But as fear her love alarms, When now the royal dame with dread Beholds a rival to her nuptial bed, Confiding in these fatal charms She thoughtless is ensnared with hostile wiles, Whilst hope to win her lord her heart beguiles. Now the ruin she deplores, Now the tear of anguish pours; For fate advancing all the treachery shows, Whence this mighty mischief flows. Forth hath burst the fount of tears. The pest is spread. From all my foes Never on thee, Alcides, fell such woes To rouse dejected pity's fears. Alas the illustrious hero's fatal spear, That flamed terrific in the front of war! From Echalia's summit hoar This the captive virgin bore: The deed declares Idalia's sportive queen, Acting silent and unseen. Chorus ANTIS. 1. STRO. 2. ANTIS. 2. Am I deceived? Or hear I from the house The voice of lamentation newly raised? It is the cry of grief distinct and clear : Something beneath this roof bursts forth anew. Nurse But mark this aged matron, what a gloom Of more than usual sadness clouds her brow! She comes, and will inform us what hath chanced. Of no light ills, O virgins, hath the gift Sent to Alcides been to us the cause. Chorus MAT. MATRON, CHORUS. Say, aged matron, what new ill is this. MAT. The last of ways is Deianira gone, Not by the living trod. The way of death? Nurse MAT. Thou hast heard all, Alas th' unhappy queen, Is she then dead? The truth again thou hearest. Chorus MAT. Ah her untimely fate! Say how she died. Nurse MAT. Most wretched, by an harsh and rueful act. Chorus Tell us the manner. Nurse She destroy'd herself. Chorus MAT. MAT. By what disease, or what wild frenzy seized ? Nurse Pierced by the point of the relentless sword. Chorus But how could she devise, or how alone Accomplish on herself the deathful deed ? Nurse MAT. By the deep piercing of the pitiless steel. Chorus Did thy sad eyes behold the desperate deed? Nurse MAT. I saw it all, for near her I was placed. Chorus How was it? how? inform us.... Her own hand Nurse The dreadful act against herself perform'd. Chorus MAT. This Nymph, this fatal stranger hath giv'n birth, Nurse Birth to a Fury dreadful to this house., Dreadful indeed! But more, hadst thou been near, Hadst thou, as I, been present to behold. Her conduct, more thy pity had been moved. Chorus MAT. Such things how dared a woman's hand attempt ? It was a scene of horror: thou with me Wilt thou attest, when thou shalt know the whole. Soon as she entering pass'd the gates alone, And saw her son preparing in the court A cover'd couch with purpose to return And meet his father, she conceal'd herself Where none might see her; then she wail'd aloud Prostrate before the altar, that her state Was become desolate; and if she touch'd Aught which before her hands had used, she wept. Then through th' apartments as her wand'ring steps She turn’d, some lov’d domestic if she saw, Affected at the sight she pour’d a flood Of tears; her wretched state she then deplored, And all the riches of her house, no more With children to be blest. This had an end. Then to the chamber, where the nuptial bed Of Hercules was placed, with sudden speed I saw her rush; conceal'd a secret eye I kept on her, and there beheld her spread With busy care the coverings o'er the couch Of Hercules; this done, she sprung aloft, And seated on the middle of the bed Gave the warm fount of tears to gush, and said, O thou dear couch, long since my bridal bed, Henceforth farewell; for never shalt thou more Receive me on thy soft down to repose. She spoke, and with dispatchful hand unloosed The golden clasp, which o'er her swelling breasts Confined her robe; thus was her side laid bare, And her left shoulder. With my utmost speed I ran to tell her son what she design'd. Short was the interval; yet when we came, We saw her side deep wounded, to her heart The sword had pierced: at that sad sight her son Groan'd in the anguish of his soul, for well He knew that 'gainst herself enraged this deed She had effected, taught too late what ill She on her house had brought, without design, But by the Centaur's evil arts ensnared. Nor sighs nor tears th' unhappy youth forbore, Nor lamentations: to her cheek he join'd His cheek, and to her bleeding side his side; Thus lying near her many a groan he heaved, That rashly he had charged her with a crime Of base intent; then wept, because at once Of hers and of his father's life deprived. Such scenes I saw: so that if mortal man Of one day, or of more should make account, His thoughts were vain; to-morrow is not, ere In safety he has pass'd the present day. Which most shall cause my tears to flow? Which most shall I lament? Each is a deed of equal woe, And dreadful each event. Beneath this roof may one be seen, The other comes with threat'ning mein. The present ill, th' impending dread, Alike their gloomy horrors spread. Oh, would some fav'ring whirlwind rise, Sweep from this house, and drive me through the air From this dire scene of sorrow far, And from these miseries spare my aching eyes! Whilst the son of Jove sustains Fierce and agonizing pains, My trembling soul would sicken with affright, And I should die at such a sight. See, to this royal mansion near Some prodigy of woe they bear : No distant grief excites this mournful strain, Taught like the thrilling Nightingale's to flow. In solemn silence moves the stranger train, Heedful, as friends, with gentle steps and slow : Nor word nor sound he utters as he lies,. And death, or sleep, hath closed the hero's eyes. Hyllus MAT. HERCULES WITH ATTENDANTS, HYLLUS, What anguish, O my father, rends my heart To see thee thus! What can I do? Ah me, Unhappy me, what grief is mine! Attendant My son Be silent, lest thou rouse his cruel pangs, And torture him to madness; thus reposed He lives; forbear then, and restrain thy cries. Hyllus Say'st thou he lives, old man? Attendant His sense thus lock'd In sleep, thou wilt not rouse him, wilt not move, Or stir the fury of his fierce disease... Hyllus His sufferings so immense distract my soul. Hercules Ah, to what region am I come? O Jove, Attendant 'Mongst whom of mortals am I laid, thus rack'd With never-ceasing pains? Ah wretched me, How fierce the gnawings of this fell disease! Happier had been thy silence: from his eyes Thy clamours have dispell'd pain-soothing sleep. HYLI.. How could I at a sight like this refrain? Hercules Ye hallow'd altars, whose firm base is fix'd On high Cenæum, what a recompense For all my victims to unhappy me Attendant Have you repaid? O Jove, with what fierce pains Hast thou afflicted me? This dire disease, Whose unextinguish'd rage to madness fires My bursting veins, oh that I had not known! What potent charm, what skill medicinal Can mitigate, without the pow'r of Jove, These agonizing pangs? Oh might I see This miracle, though distant! Let me lie, Ah, let me lie reposed. Why dost thou touch, Why dost thou raise me up? Each touch is death. Thou hast awaken'd pangs that were at rest. Again my tortures are inflamed, again They rush upon me. Ah, where are you now, Ye most unjust of all the Grecian race? With many toils th' infested seas I clear'd, And all the ruffian-haunted woods; yet now I miserably perish; not a man Will bring or fire or sword to put an end To my afflictions; not a man will come Willing to rend from me this hated life. O thou his son, this task requires a strength Greater than mine; assist him thou, thine eye Quicker than mine sees what may give him aid. Hyllus I touch him, but to mitigate his pains Exceeds my pow'r, and all the healing art Avails not: that must be the work of Jove. Hercules My son, my son, where art thou? In thy arms Raise me, support me. O my cruel fate! This fierce, immedicable, wasting pest Attacks, again attacks me; wretched me! O Pallas, it consumes me. O my son, In pity to thy father draw thy sword, And plunge it deep into my throat; the deed Will not be impious; heal these torturing pangs Inflicted by thy mother's wicked hands: Oh might I see her fall'n, thus fall'n, as me Her arts have sunk! Thou monarch of the dead, Brother of Jove, give me a speedy death, And lay, oh lay a tortured wretch at rest! Chorus My friends, chill horror shakes me as I hear The miseries, which th' illustrious hero bears. Hercules What fiery and unutterable pains With rankling venom pierce my hands, my back Such not the wife of Jove to me assign'd, Nor stern Eurystheus, as this treacherous dame, Daughter of Eneus, whose entangling net, The texture of the furies, burns my limbs, And works me death; close to my sides it sticks, Eats through my skin, and rioting beneath My vitals drains; already hath it drank The fresh streams of my blood, and all my flesh Is wasted, by these gnawing bands consumed. This not the spear on the ensanguined plain Uplifted, nor the terrible array Of earth-born giants, nor the furious force Of savage beasts roused from their horrid dens, Nor Grecian, nor Barbarian, nor the rage Of ruffian bands from which I purged the earth, Effected; but a single woman, form'd By nature weak, a woman to the ground Without a sword hath brought me. But, my son, Now prove thyself my son, nor more revere A mother's name; but bring her from the house, And give her to my hands, that I may know If more my wretched state afflicts thy heart Than hers, when thou shalt see her ruin'd form Defaced by my just vengeance. Go, my son, Dare this; have pity on me; many feel The touch of pity for me, as I weep Like a sick girl lamenting: till this hour No man can say that e'er his eyes beheld Such weakness in me; but without a groan Toils and afflictions always I sustain'd:'. But now my firmness sinks, and I am found Amidst my ills a woman. But, my son, Come to me, nearer stand, come all, observe From what a malady these torturing pains I suffer; look, I throw my vests aside, Behold this wretched body; what a sight To move your pity! Ah, this burning spasm Rends me afresh, it plerces through my sides, No rest this cruel, gnawing best pest allows Receive me, O thou monarch of the dead! Strike me, ye bolts of Jove; O king supreme, Roll thy red thunders, hurl them on this head, My father! for it riots now again, Gains strength, grows fiercer. O my hands, my hands, My back, my breast, my arms! Are these the nerves In which I gloried once, whose matchless strength Quell'd the Nemæan lion which the blood Of slaughter'd herds distain'd, whose savage rage None dared approach? Are these the nerves, whose might Crush'd the Lernæan Hydra, and subdued The host of monsters to the horse's strength Joining the human form, a lawless band, To outrage train'd, exulting in brute force? The Boar of Erymanthus; the grim Dog Of hell, three-headed monster, by no arms To be attack'd, from dire Echidna sprung; The Dragon, guardian of the golden fruit On earth's remotest verge? These glorious toils, Theseus and a thousand more have I achieved ; But never mortal o'er my glory raised A trophy: nevertheless now this hardy frame Is shatter'd, and beneath this blind, disease I waste away; my mother's virtuous name Avails me not, nor through the starry skies: That I am call'd the son of thundering Jove. Yet know you this, though I am nothing now, A weak exhausted nothing, yet e'en thus I will inflict just vengeance on her head Who brought me to this state; that she may learn, And publish to the world, that it is mine // In life or death to punish impious deeds. Chorus Unhappy Greece, what sorrows will be thine, T Of his illustrious virtues if bereaved? Hyllus With leave obtain'd since I may speak to thee, Hear me with patient silence, though in pain;.. For I shall ask what justice wills thou grant. Give me thyself, with passion less inflameds For thus thou canst not know that thy warm wish Obtain'd would yield thee aught of solid joy, Or that thy rage without a causes is roused. Hercules Speak what thou wou'dst, but briefly; 'midst these pains I comprehend not hints abstruse and dark. Hyllus Much of my mother, of her present state, And her unweeting error I would speak. Hercules O thou most base! And canst thou to my ears The murderer of thy father name again? Hyllus Such is her state, that silence in her cause Would ill become me. Hercules 1. All her former faults Might well admit thy plea. Hyllus So wilt thou judge Of this day's error. Hercules Speak, but take good heed No baseness stain thy nature. Hyllus She is dead, Recently slain. Hercules By whom? Through ills announced Portentous are thy words. Hyllus Against her life Her own bold hand she arm'd. Hercules Oh that from mine She had received her meed! Hyllus The whole truth known, Soon would thine anger die away. Hercules Thy words To something dreadful are a proem: say Why such thy thought. Hyllus Unweetingly she err'd, Her whole intent was good.. Hercules Art thou so base? Murdering thy father well did she intend? Hyllus When thy new bride within thy house she saw, Weening by charms to win thy love, she err'd.、 Hercules Whom in these arts so skill'd doth Trachin boast? Hyllus The Centaur Nessus with his dying breath Beguiled her with such charm t' inflame thy love. Hercules Then I am lost indeed; unhappy fate! I perish, ah, I perish! Now no more Beams the son's golden light for me; I know My miserable state. But go, my son, (Thou hast no more a father) hither bring Thy brothers, bring them all; and with thee lead The sorrowing Alcmena, wife of Jove In vain; that from my lips you yet may hear The last of Oracles to me announced. Hyllus Thy mother is not here, but on the banks Of Tiryns hath her dwelling; of thy sons Some there she trains, and some at Thebes reside : We, who are near, if aught thou would'st require, Hearing thy mandates will perform the charge. Hercules Then hear thou me; for now thou art arrived At such an age as to the world may show The virtues of the man, and of my son. To me long since my awful sire declared That by no living mortal I should die, But by the dead, in the dark realms below By one that hath his mansion: this is he, The Centaur Nessus, by the voice divine Foretold; though long since dead, me of my life He hath bereaved. Attend, while yet I speak Of oracles late utter'd, which accord With those of former times: When I had reach'd The forest of the Selli, (an hard race That o'er the mountains roam at large, and rest Couch'd on the ground) these from the vocal oak Of Jove I wrote; and thus its voice announced, That when the hours should bring this time to life, All my impending toils should find an end. I fondly thought of life and happy days, Whilst it denoted nothing but my death; For the dead rest secure from toils. These truths Are clear, my son; behoves thee then to aid Thy father, nor provoke my harsh rebukes; Act of thine own accord, and this great law, Obedience to a father's will, observe. Hyllus I tremble at the words thy mournful state Declaring; but thy will shall be obey'd. Hercules First give me thy right hand. Hyllus This pledge of faith Why thus demanded ? Hercules Wilt thou give it strait, Cl And not oppose my will? Nothing shall be refus'd. Of Jove my father swear. I stretch it, see; Now by the head Hyllus To do what deed? Speak, and receive my faith. Hercules What I command. Hyllus Swear to perform I swear; be witness, Jove.!- Hercules If thou art false, call vengeance on thy head. Hyllus I fear not vengeance, I will do the deed; Yet be the awful imprecation made... Hercules Know'st thou the highest point of Cta's mount Hyllus Sacred to Jove? I know it well, for oft ‘The victim have I offer’d on that mount, Hercules Thither this body it behoves thee now With thine own hands to bear, and with such friends As thou shalt need; there raise an ample pile, Much from the deeply-rooted oak, and much From the wild olive hewn; and on it place This body; waving then the blazing torch, Set it on fire; and let no mark of grief Attend the deed; but, if thou art my son, Do it without a groan, without a tear; Else shall my curse amidst the realms beneath Await thee, and hang heavy on thy heart. Hyllus Ah me, my father, what hast thou enjoin'd! Hercules What must be done: if not, some other deem Thy father, and be call'd my son no more. Hyllus To what a deed wou'dst thou excite thy son, To kill my father with a murderer's hand! Hercules Not so: thy lenient hand I only ask To heal the anguish of my dreadful ills. Hyllus How by these flames thy body can I heal? Hercules If thy soul shrink from this, perform the rest. Hyllus These arms shall bear thee, faithful to the task. Hercules And wilt thou raise, as charged, the ample pile? Hyllus So that my hands are guiltless of its flames, And of thy death, thy charge I will obey. Hercules With this I will be satisfied: yet more One grace, a small one, to the greater add. Hyllus Great though it be, it shall not be refused. Hercules The virgin daughter of Œchalia's king Hyllus Thou knowest? Iole, if just my thought. Hercules Most just. This charge I give thee, Her, my son, When I am dead (since thou hast shown a will Prompt to be pious) mindful of thine oath Espouse; and let no man, thy self except, Her, for my bed design'd, presume to touch; But give her thy fond love, my son; indulge/. Thy father's wish this slight request refused, Things of high import granted lose their grace.1 Hyllus Anger, in pity of his pains, subsides; But such a wayward fancy who can bear Hercules Thou wilt not then with my request complyed sai Hyllus Her, of my mother's death that was alone The guilty cause, that brought thee to this state, Her, by the vengeful furies if not urged; li Who would receive? No; rather let me die, ...... Than dwell with those whom most my soul abhors. Hercules This youth, it seems, a dying father's charge Reveres not, but a curse shall from the gods Await thy disobedience to my will. Hyllus Ah, to thy body not confined, I fear, olti al Thy reason soon this malady will reachdis Hercules And thou the cause, for thou again dost rouse My sleeping pains, band Hyllus Unhappy me, what doubts Distract my soul! Hercules Thy soul averse disdains A father's mandates. Hyllus Shall I then be taught To do an impious deed? Hercules If it delights My heart, not impious is the deed. Hyllus Thy son Dost thou with justice to this deed impel? Hercules I call the gods to witness, it is just. Hyllus Then I will do it, nor oppose thy will, Appealing to the gods that in good truth This is thy work: nor shall I e'er be deem'd be impious; Hercules calls the gods to witness that it would not be a deed of impiety, but of justice; on which Hyllus immediately consents. Impious, a father's charge whilst I obey. Hercules Thou hast concluded well: and now, my son, To all thy former add one speedy grace; Ere fierce convulsions seize me, or the whirl Of madness, lay me on the pyre. Come then, This toil refuse not, raise me, bear me hence; This is my rest from ills, this my last end. Hyllus Nothing restrains us from this act, thus urged By thy command, my father, thus compell'd. Hercules Now my firm soul, ere this disease return To torture me, with steel, with adamant Close up my lips, let not a cry break forth, For this unpleasing work now gives me joy. Hyllus You, who attend, take up your lord: my part In this sad business justly claims excuse. But in this horrible event the gods, Mortal man Who gave him being, and are fathers call'd, Yet unconcern'd such sufferings can behold, Show that their minds are ruthless. Sees not the future: we the present feel, Mournful to us, disgraceful to the gods, But most severe to him who bears these ills. Chorus Virgin, go hence: thou hast beheld the deaths Of the illustrious, and their recent woes; Dreadful events, but all ordain'd by Jove.