_Deianira:_ Why dost thou hesitate? why stand amazed, O soul, that thus at last the deed is done?[32] But Jove demands again his son of thee; Juno, her rival; yea, to all the world Must he be given back. Vain such appeal. Make then what reparation[33] yet thou mayst: Through this my guilty body let the sword 845 Be driven. Thus, thus, 'tis well that it be done. But can this puny hand of mine atone For crime so great? O sire of Hercules, Destroy me with thy hurtling thunderbolt, Thy guilty daughter. With no common dart Arm thine avenging hand; but use that shaft With which, had Hercules ne'er sprung from thee, 850 Thou wouldst have scorched the hydra. As a pest Unprecedented smite me, as a scourge Far worse to bear than any stepdame's wrath. Such bolt as once at wandering Phaëthon Thou hurledst, aim at me. For I myself Have ruined all mankind in Hercules. 855 But why demand a weapon of the gods? For 'tis her shame that great Alcides' wife Should pray for death. Let prayers give way to deeds, And from myself let me demand my death. Take then the sword in haste. But why the sword? Whate'er can work my death is sword enough. From some heaven-piercing cliff I'll cast me down. 860 Yea, let our neighboring Oeta be my choice, Whose top is first to greet the newborn day. From its high peak I'll hurl me down to death. May I be rent asunder on its crags, And every rock demand some part of me; Let sharp projections pierce my mangled hands, And all the rugged mountainside be red 865 With blood. One death is not enough, 'tis true; But still its agony can be prolonged. O hesitating soul, thou canst not choose What form of death to die. Oh, that the sword Of Hercules within my chamber hung! How fitting 'twere by such a sword to die! But is't enough that by one hand I fall? 870 Assemble, all ye nations of the world, And hurl upon me rocks and blazing brands; Let no hand shirk its task of punishment, For your avenger have I done to death. Now with impunity shall cruel kings Their scepters wield; and monstrous ills shall rise 875 With none to let; again shall shrines be sought, Where worshiper and victim are alike In human form. A broad highway for crime Have I prepared; and, by removing him Who was their bulwark, have exposed mankind To every form of monstrous man and beast And savage god. Why dost thou cease thy work, 880 O wife of thundering Jove? Why dost thou not, In imitation of thy brother, snatch From his own hand the fiery thunderbolt, And slay me here thyself? For thou hast lost Great praise and mighty triumph by my act: I have forestalled thee, Juno, in the death Of this thy rival.