_Deianira:_ As budding groves put on a joyous form When spring's warm breezes clothe the naked boughs; But, when the northwind rages in their stead, And savage winter strips the leaves away, Thou seest naught but bare and shapeless trunks: So this my beauty, which has traveled far 385 Along the road of life, has lost its bloom, And gleams less brightly than in former years. Behold that loveliness--but Oh, whate'er Was once by many suitors sought in me, Has vanished quite; for toils of motherhood Have stolen my beauty, and with speeding foot Advancing age has hurried it away. 390 But, as thou seest, this slave has not yet lost Her glorious charms. Her queenly robes, 'tis true, Have yielded to the garb of poverty; Still, through her very grief her beauty shines, And nothing save her kingdom has she lost By this hard stroke of fate. This fear of her 395 Doth vex my heart and take away my sleep. I once was in the eyes of all the world The wife most to be praised; and every bride Longed for a mate like mine with envious prayers; And every soul that asked the gods for aught, Took me as type and measure of her vows. 400 What father shall I ever find, O nurse, To equal Jove? What husband like to mine In all the world? Though he, Eurystheus' self, Beneath whose power my Hercules is placed, Should take me for his wife, 'twould not suffice. A trifling thing, to miss a royal couch; 405 But far she falls who loses Hercules. _Nurse:_ But children often win a husband's love. _Deianira:_ My rival's child perchance will win him too. _Nurse:_ I think that slave is but a gift for thee.