_Deianira:_ Nay: fallen fortunes fan the flames of love; And for this very reason does he love, Because her home is lost, and from her head The crown of gleaming gold and gems has fallen. 360 For these her woes he pities her--and loves. 'Twas e'er his wont to love his captive maids. _Nurse:_ 'Tis true, he loved the captive Trojan maid, Young Priam's sister; but he gave her up. Recall how many dames, how many maids Aforetime he has loved, this wandering swain. 365 The Arcadian maiden Auge, while she led The choral dance of Pallas, roused his love And suffered straight his passionate embrace. But from his heart she quickly fell away, And now retains no traces of his love. Why mention others? The Thespiades Enjoyed the passing love of Hercules, 370 But are forgotten. Soon, a wanderer Upon Timolus, he caressed the queen Of Lydia, and, smitten by her love, He sat beside the whirling distaff there, His doughty fingers on the moistened thread. His neck no longer bears the lion's spoil; But there he sits, a languid, love-sick slave, His shaggy locks with Phrygian turban bound, 375 And dripping with the costly oil of myrrh. Yes, everywhere he feels the fires of love, But always does he glow with transient flame. _Deianira:_ But lovers after many transient flames, Are wont at last to choose a single love. _Nurse:_ And could Alcides choose instead of thee A slave, the daughter of his enemy? 380