_Nurse of_ Deianira: Oh, bitter is the rage a woman feels, When in one house both wife and mistress dwell! No wrecking Scylla, no Charybdis dire, 235 The wild upheavers of Sicilia's waves, No savage beast, is more untamed than she. For when the maiden's beauty was revealed, And Iole shone like the cloudless sky, Or gleaming stars within the heavens serene, Then did Alcides' bride like one distraught 240 Stand gazing fiercely on the captive maid; As when a tigress, lying with her young Beneath some rock in far Armenia, Leaps up to meet an enemy's approach; Or as a Maenad, by the god inspired, And bidden shake the thyrsus, stands awhile In wonder whither she shall take her way. Then she throughout the house of Hercules 245 Goes madly rushing; nor does all the house Give space enough. Now here, now there she runs, At random wandering; and now she stands, Her face reflecting woe in every line, The inmost feelings of her heart revealed. She threatens fiercely, then a flood of tears Succeeds to threats. No mood for long endures, 250 Nor can one form of rage content her long. Now flame her cheeks with wrath; pale terror now Drives out the flush of anger, and her grief Takes every form that maddened sorrow knows: Complainings, prayers, and groans. But now the doors Are creaking: see, she comes in frenzied haste, With words confused revealing all her heart. 255 [_Enter_ Deianira.] _Deianira:_ O wife of Jove, where'er in heaven thou dwell'st, Against Alcides send some raging beast That shall be dire enough to sate my wrath. If any hydra rears its fertile head Too vast to be contained in any pool, Impossible of conquest, send it forth. If anything is worse than other beasts, 260 Enormous, unrelenting, horrible, From which the eye of even Hercules Would turn in fear, let such an one come out From its huge den. But if no beasts avail, This heart of mine into some monster change; For of my hate can any shape be made That thou desir'st. Oh, mould my woman's form 265 To match my grief. My breast cannot contain Its rage. Why dost thou search the farthest bounds Of earth, and overturn the world? Or why Dost thou demand of hell its evil shapes? This breast of mine will furnish for thy use All fearful things. To work thy deadly hate 270 Use me as tool. Thou canst destroy him quite. Do thou but use these hands for what thou will. Why dost thou hesitate, O goddess? See, Use me, the raging one. What impious deed Dost thou command? Decide. Why doubtful stand? Now mayst thou rest awhile from all thy toils, For my rage is enough. 275