by Sophocles
LEADER
(to LIKHAS)
You’re hearing good advice. Follow it. You’ll
never have cause to complain of this woman.
And all of us will be grateful to you.
LIKHAS
So be it, Queen. Men are weak. You grasp that.
I see that you think like a sane woman.
I’ll tell it to you plainly, hiding nothing.
That fellow has it right. The girl touched off
lust in Herakles that devoured his soul.
For her sake he drove his spear straight through
the desolate heart of her city, Oechalia. 560
And to be fair to the man, he never asked me
to hide these facts. I was afraid to wound you,
so the fault’s mine—if it’s truly a fault.
Now that you know the whole story—
for your own good as well as his—keep your promise
to treat her with kindness. For the man who has
proven himself stronger in every battle
has been beaten by his love for this girl.
DEIANEIRA
I haven’t changed my mind. I’ll keep my word.
Trust me, it would only make my sickness 570
worse—to wage hopeless war against the gods.
But we should both go inside. I’ll give you
messages to take back, and fitting gifts.
The gifts we’ve just received should be repaid.
I don’t want you to leave empty-handed,
since you came here with such precious goods.
DEIANEIRA, LIKHAS, and the MESSENGER enter the house.
CHORUS
Huge are the victories
the power of the love
goddess always wins!
I won’t pause to tell 580
how she tamed gods,
beguiling Hades,
lord of the dark,
Zeus, son of Kronos,
and Poseidon
the earthshaker—
but when our lady’s hand
was there for the winning,
who were the rivals
that met in battle, 590
trading blows in the dust?
One was a big Rivergod,
who took the monstrous
body of a spike-horned
four-legged bull—he
was Achelous, from Oeneus.
His rival from Thebes,
city Bakkhos adores,
came armed with a double
torsioned bow, spears, 600
and one huge club—he
was Herakles, son of Zeus.
Bride-hungry males,
they battered each other.
Aphrodite, the goddess
who brings joy to our beds,
was there as the sole referee.
Then came the thud
of pounding fists,
a bow twanging, 610
horn cracking bone!
Legs grappled torsos,
a forehead struck
murderous blows—
harsh groans of pain
bellowed from both,
while she in her fragile
beauty sat in plain view
on a hillside nearby,
soon to be claimed 620
by her husband-to-be.
So the battle roared on,
the bride, the dazzling prize,
helpless in her anguish,
till suddenly she’s pulled
like a calf from its mother.
Enter DEIANEIRA.
DEIANEIRA
My friends, while our guest inside says good-bye
to the captives, I’ve stepped out here unseen
to tell you what my hands have done, and ask
your sympathy for my troubles.
A virgin, 630
though I think she’s been bedded by now,
has invaded my house like cargo stowed
on a ship—merchandise sure to drive
my own peace of mind on the rocks.
Now we both will sleep under one blanket
and share his lovemaking. That’s my reward
from Herakles—the man I said was true
and loyal—my repayment for guarding
his home through all these grinding months.
Though I can’t feel anger toward a man 640
so stricken by this sickness.
But what woman
could live with her, inside the same marriage!
I see her youth bloom, while mine fades.
Men’s eyes adore fresh young blossoms.
But they shun flowers turning dry.
That’s my fear—that Herakles, whom I call
my husband, is now this young woman’s man.
I’ve said anger is ugly in a woman of sense,
and I’ll tell you, friends, my hope for its cure.
Years ago, a strange beast gave me something 650
that I’ve kept in a bronze urn. I got this gift,
when I was a girl, from that hairy-chested
creature Nessus—it was his own blood
that I scraped from the wound that killed him.
He was a centaur who took people over
the river Evenus, not rowing or sailing,
but swimming them across in his arms.
He carried me on his back when Father
sent me to marry Herakles. Out in midstream
he fondled me with his lewd hands. I yelled. 660
Herakles looked back and saw us. He whistled
an arrow through Nessus’ chest into his lungs.
As Nessus’ life dimmed, the centaur whispered,
“You listen to me, Oeneus’ daughter!
Take at least this much profit from being
the last passenger I will ever carry.
If you scrape up some blood from my wound,
just where the arrow soaked in black bile hit—
bile leeched from the Hydra of Lerna—
you’ll have something to charm Herakles’ soul. 670
It will keep him from seeing and loving
any other woman but you.”
I remembered
this charm, my friends, because after he died,
I hid it in my house—and now I’ve dampened
this robe with that gore, doing exactly
what the centaur told me to do. It’s ready.
May I never know anything
about rash acts of malice. Keep me
from ever learning what they are.
I detest women guilty of such things. 680
But if I can defeat that girl by using
a love-spell that works only on Herakles,
I have the means. Unless you think
I’m being reckless. If so, I’ll stop now.
LEADER
Don’t! If you think this drug might work,
there is surely no harm in using it.
DEIANEIRA
I’m at least this much confident: there’s a good
chance it will work, though it’s untested.
LEADER
You test something in action. To test it
in your mind does no good at all. 690
DEIANEIRA
We won’t have to wait long. I see him
coming out, eager to leave. You won’t give
me away, will you? What’s done out of sight,
even if it’s shameful, won’t expose me to shame.
Enter LIKHAS from the house.
LIKHAS
Your orders, lady? Is there more I can do,
daughter of Oeneus? I should be on my way.
DEIANEIRA
I was getting this ready, Likhas,
while you said good-bye to the slaves.
DEIANEIRA (or a servant who has carried it onstage) hands LIKHAS a wooden box holding the robe.
Take this flowing handmade robe—my own
design—as a gift to my abs
ent master. 700
When you hand it to him, make certain he,
nobody else, is the first to wear it. Be sure
to keep it in a dark place—no sunlight—
don’t take it near grounds that are sacred,
or near an altar fire. Wait till he’s standing
in plain sight before everyone. Give it to him
on a day he’s killing bulls for the gods.
I made this vow: that on the day Herakles
came safely home, I’d wrap him in this robe,
and show him to the gods, radiant 710
at their altar in his bright new clothes.
So he’ll have proof it’s from me, take this ring.
He’ll know my sign. It’s carved into the seal.
It’s time you left. Remember the first rule
of messengers—they shouldn’t interfere.
Do this well, and you’ll earn thanks from us both.
LIKHAS
Well, if I’m any good at Hermes’ craft
there’s no chance I’ll ever fail you.
Count on my handing him this box intact,
adding only your words, to prove it’s yours. 720
DEIANEIRA
You should be on your way, now that you’ve
found out how things stand in this house.
LIKHAS
I’ll report all is going well here.
DEIANEIRA
You saw me greet the young stranger.
Will you tell him how I welcomed her?
LIKHAS
It was a gracious welcome. I was amazed.
DEIANEIRA
There’s nothing more, then, for you to tell him,
is there? Don’t tell him how much I want him
until we know whether he still wants me.
DEIANEIRA reenters the house as CHORUS sings.
CHORUS
All of you living 730
near the hot springs
between harbor and high rock
and on the heights of Oita—
all of you living
by the waters
of the landlocked
Malian Sea,
on shores sacred
to the Virgin Goddess
armed with arrows of gold— 740
shores where the Greeks met
in their storied conclave
at the grand shrine of Pylos.
Soon the vibrant-voiced
flute rises in your midst,
not resonant with grief,
but musical as a lyre
delighting the gods.
The son born to Zeus
and Alkmene 750
hurries to his home,
bearing all that his courage won.
We had lost Herakles
from our city
while he wandered the seas—
we heard nothing for twelve months
while the wife he treasures
waited in tears.
Now the Wargod,
enraged at last, 760
chases away
her days of hardship.
Let Herakles come home!
Let him come home!
Let there be no missed beat
in the pulse of the oars
of the ship sailing here
till it lands in our port,
leaving astern the island
where he built altars for the gods. 770
Let him come home fired by love,
melting with lust, feeling
the power which burns in the robe,
put there by the Goddess
of Yes—charming Persuasion.
DEIANEIRA returns from the house.
DEIANEIRA
Women, I’m scared. I think I’ve done
something extremely dangerous.
LEADER
Deianeira! Child of Oeneus! What’s happened?
DEIANEIRA
I’m not sure. But I’m terrified
I’ll be blamed for a savage crime— 780
while trying to do something lovely.
LEADER
It’s not your gift to Herakles, is it?
DEIANEIRA
It is. Never act on impulse
if you can’t see clearly what will happen!
LEADER
What makes you so upset? Please tell us.
DEIANEIRA
Something weird has just happened, sisters,
so strange you could never imagine it.
A ball of white fleece, with which I was rubbing
chrism into the ceremonial robe,
has disappeared. The wool ate itself up— 790
nothing in my house consumed it—it just
crumbled away to nothing on a stone slab.
But so you’ll understand exactly
how it happened, I’ll tell you step by step.
I followed the instructions given me
by the centaur, neglecting no detail.
What he told me writhing in pain, the arrow
still in his chest, I remember like words
hammered forever on a bronze tablet.
I did what he told me to do—no more: 800
keep the drug far from fire, hide it deep
in the house where the hot sun can’t touch it—
keep it fresh till the moment it’s smeared on.
That’s what I did! Now, when the time came
to go into action, I rubbed it in secret
there in my dark house, using some wool tufts
that I pulled from one of our own sheep.
Then I folded the robe up and packed it
safely in a box. Sunlight never touched it.
But as I went back in, I saw something 810
strange beyond words—and human comprehension.
I happened to toss the damp tuft of wool
I was using into a patch of bright sunlight.
As it warmed up, it shriveled, dissolving
to powder fast as trees turn to sawdust
when men cut them down. So it lay there, right
where it fell. From the ground white gobs
foamed up, like the rich juice of Bakkhos’ blue-
green grapes, poured—still fermenting—on the earth.
I’m stunned. I don’t know what I should do now. 820
All I know is . . . I’ve done something awful.
Why should that dying monster have had
any possible motive for doing me
a kindness? I’m the one who got him killed!
No, he used me to kill the man who shot him.
I see this clearly, now that it’s too late.
It’s me, nobody else—unless I’ve lost
my mind—who’s going to kill Herakles!
I know the arrow that hit Nessus maimed
even Chiron, who was a god—so its 830
poison kills every creature it touches.
The same black venom oozed from Nessus’ wound.
Won’t it kill my lord too? I know it will.
And if he dies, so will I, both of us
swept to our doom. What woman who values
her goodness could survive such disgrace?
LEADER
You’re right to be alarmed by what’s happened.
But don’t assume the worst until it strikes.
DEIANEIRA
A person who’s made a fatal mistake
has no use for that kind of wishful thinking. 840
LEADER
Men are forgiving when it’s not your fault!
Their anger softens. So it will toward you.
DEIANEIRA
You can say that because it’s not your life!
What if this menace pounded on your door?
LEADER
Better hold your tongue. Your son will hear you.
He’s home from trying to find his father.
Enter HYLLOS.
HYLLOS
Mother! I wish any one of three th
ings
had happened: that I’d found you dead;
or if you were living, you’d be somebody
else’s mother. Or you’d somehow be changed, 850
so a kinder spirit lived in your body.
DEIANEIRA
Son, what did I do to make you hate me?
HYLLOS
Today you murdered your husband. My father!
DEIANEIRA
I’m stunned by what comes out of your mouth, child.
HYLLOS
The words I’ve spoken will be proven true.
Who can undo what’s already been done?
DEIANEIRA
What did you say? On whose authority
do you charge me with this horrendous crime?
HYLLOS
I didn’t hear it from anybody.
I’ve seen Father dying with my own eyes. 860
DEIANEIRA
Where did you find him? Were you with him?
HYLLOS
You listen while I tell you everything.
After he looted the famous city
of Eurytus, Herakles headed home,
loaded down with the spoils of victory.
At Cape Cenaeum, a headland off Euboea
where the sea crashes in, he dedicated altars
and a grove of trees to his father, Zeus.
When I saw him, I felt such love!
He’d just begun a great solemn sacrifice, 870
when his own herald, Likhas, arrived from home,
bringing your gift, the lethal robe, which he
put on, just as you planned he would. Then he
began slaughtering bulls, twelve flawless bulls,
the first he’d looted, but there must have been
a hundred animals herded toward the knife.
There he was, doomed already, serenely
praying, thrilled with his gorgeous attire.
But just as the blood-drenched fire blazed up
through the bulls and the resin-soaked pine logs, 880
sweat broke out on his body! The robe clung
to his ribs as if a craftsman glued it there.
Pain tore at his bones—and then the venom
sank its fangs into him, gorging on his flesh.
He yelled for doomed Likhas, who was in no
way guilty, demanding what treachery
inspired him to bring that robe. But Likhas,
totally ignorant, said he had the gift
from no one but you, that he delivered it
just as you sent it. Hearing that, his master— 890
a slashing pain clawing at his lungs—caught
Likhas by his ankle joint and launched him