_Nurse:_ Restrain at least thy hand, unhappy child, That he may know the deed was born of fraud, And was not purposed by his wife's design. _Deianira:_ I'll plead my cause before the bar of hell, Whose gods, I think, will free me from my guilt, Though I am self-condemned; these guilty hands 935 Will Pluto cleanse for me. Then, on thy banks, O Lethe, with my memory clean I'll stand, A grieving shade, awaiting him I love. But thou, who rulest o'er the world of gloom, Prepare some toil for me, some dreadful toil; For this my fault outweighs all other sins That heart of man has ever dared to do. Nay, Juno's self was never bold enough 940 To rob the grieving world of Hercules. Let Sisyphus from his hard labor cease, And let his stone upon my shoulders press; Let vagrant waves flee from my eager lips, And that elusive water mock my thirst. Upon thy whirling spokes have I deserved 945 To be stretched out, O king of Thessaly. Let greedy vultures feed upon my flesh. One from the tale of the Danaïdes Is lacking[34] yet; let me the number fill. Ye shades, make room for me; O Colchian wife, Receive me as thy comrade there below. 950 My deed is worse, far worse than both thy crimes, Though thou as mother and as sister, too, Hast sinned. Thou also, cruel queen of Thrace, Take me as comrade of thy crimes. And thou, Althaea, take thy daughter, for indeed Thou shalt discern in me thy daughter true. And yet not one of you has ever done 955 Such deed as mine. O all ye faithful wives, Who have your seats within the sacred groves, Expel me from Elysium's blessed fields. But faithless wives, who with their husbands' blood Have stained their hands, who have forgotten quite Their marriage vows and stood with naked sword 960 Like Belus' bloody daughters, they will know My deeds for theirs and praise them as their own. To such a company of wives 'tis meet That I betake myself; but even they Will shun such dire companionship as mine. O husband, strong, invincible, believe My soul is innocent, although my hands Are criminal. O mind too credulous! 965 O Nessus, false and skilled in bestial guile! Striving my hated rival to remove, I have destroyed myself. O beaming sun, And thou, O life, that by thy coaxing arts Dost strive to hold the wretched in the light, Begone! for every day is vile to me That shineth not upon my Hercules. 970 Oh, let me bear, myself, thy sufferings And give my life for thee. Or shall I wait And keep myself for death at thy right hand? Hast still some strength in thee, and can thy hands Still bend the bow and speed the fatal shaft? Or do thy weapons lie unused, thy bow 975 No more obedient to thy nerveless hand?