_Nurse:_ What crime dost thou intend, O foolish one? Wilt slay thy noble lord, 315 Whose praises from the east to west are known, Whose fame extends from earth to highest heaven? For all the earth will rise to avenge his death; And this thy father's house and all thy race Will be the first to fall. Soon rocks and brands 320 Will be against thee hurled, since every land Will its protector shield; and thou alone Wilt suffer many, many penalties. Suppose thou canst escape the world of men; Still must thou face the thunderbolts of Jove, The father of Alcides. Even now His threat'ning torches gleam athwart the sky, 325 And all the heavens tremble with the shock. Nay, death itself, wherein thou hop'st to find A place of safe retreat--fear that as well; For there Alcides' uncle reigns supreme. Turn where thou wilt, O wretched woman; there Shalt thou behold thy husband's kindred gods. 330 _Deianira:_ A fearful crime it is, I do confess; But Oh, my passion bids me do it still. _Nurse:_ Thou'lt die. _Deianira:_ But as the wife of Hercules I'll die; no night shall ever bring the day That shall behold me cheated of my own, Nor shall a captive mistress have my bed. Sooner shall western skies give birth to day; 335 Sooner shall men of India make their home Beneath the icy pole, and Phoebus tan With his hot rays the shivering Scythians, Than shall the dames of Thessaly behold My downfall. For with my own blood I'll quench The marriage torches. Either he shall die, Or slay me with his hand. To all the beasts 340 Whom he has slaughtered let him add his wife; Let me be numbered 'mongst his mighty deeds; But in my death my body still shall claim The couch of Hercules. Oh, sweet, 'tis sweet To fare to Hades as Alcides' bride, And not without my vengeance. If, indeed, 345 From Hercules my rival has conceived, With my own hands I'll tear the child away Untimely, and that shameless harlot face Within her very wedding torches' glare. And though in wrath upon his nuptial day He slay me as a victim at the shrine, Let me but fall upon my rival's corse, And I shall die content. For happy he Who drags with him his enemy to death. 350 _Nurse:_ Why dost thou feed thy passion's flames, poor child, And nurse thy grief? Why cherish needless fear? He did feel love for Iole, 'tis true; But in the time while yet her father reigned, And while she was a haughty monarch's child. The princess now has fallen to the place Of slave, and love has lost its power to charm, 355 Since her unhappy state has stol'n from her Her loveliness. The unattainable Is ever sought in love. But from the thing That is within his reach love turns away.