Nessus has been potent indeed; the maiden is nothing to him: he “loves no woman more” than Deianira. But this act is more than cold reparation; it is a beautiful stroke of silent eloquence. Heracles not only relinquishes Iole, he gives her to his son, to one many years his junior. This is an unconscious reply to the touching complaint[337] made by the wronged wife:— The flower of her age is in its spring, But mine in autumn. And the eyes of men Still pluck the blossom, shunning withered charms. For him his wife was the true mate; let Iole wed a man of her own years.[338] Thus the hope of Deianira is in a terrible way half-fulfilled. Just as Heracles was mistaken in his reading of the oracle which promised him “rest” at the end of his toils, so was she mistaken in the meaning she put upon the Centaur’s promise. The oracles of heaven, by their own power and still more by the terrible misinterpretation of man, help to mould the play, as they mould the _Œdipus Tyrannus_. Thus the _Trachiniæ_ becomes a real unity. Deianira’s fate is now no over-developed episode, for in a spiritual sense it fills the tragedy. The doom of Heracles is no anti-climax or tedious addendum; it is the exposition before our eye of the havoc which can be wrought by sincere love misled. A great structural danger lies herein, that the picture of Heracles’ torment may eclipse the tragedy of his wife. But the poet has surmounted this by making the agony-scene not too long, and above all by reminding us of Deianira through the repeated allusion to her made by Heracles and through the explanation of Hyllus.