Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/261

Rh And hurrying feet. [To Hyllus.] What tidings dost thou bear? Hyllus: Oh, speed thee, mother, to whatever place On land or sea, among the stars of heaven, Or in the depths of hell, can keep thee safe Beyond the deadly reach of Hercules. Deianira: Some great disaster doth my mind presage. Hyllus: Hie thee to Juno's shrine, the victor's realm; This refuge waits thee 'midst the loss of all. Deianira: Tell what disaster hath o'erta'en me now. Hyllus: That glory and sole bulwark of the world, Whom in the place of Jove the fates had given To bless the earth, O mother, is no more. A strange infection wastes Alcides' limbs; And he who conquered every form of beast, He, he, the victor is o'ercome with woe. What wouldst thou further hear? Deianira: All wretched souls Are e'er in haste to know their miseries. Come, tell, what present fate o'erhangs our house? O wretched, wretched house! Now, now indeed, Am I a widow, exiled, fate-o'ercome. Hyllus: Not thou alone dost weep for Hercules; For in his fall the universe laments. Think not on private griefs; the human race Lifts up the voice of mourning. All the world Is grieving with the selfsame grief thou feel'st. Thou shar'st thy misery with every land. Thou hast, indeed, forestalled their grief, poor soul; Thou first, but not alone, dost weep for him. Deianira: Yet tell me, tell, I pray, how near to death Lies my Alcides now. Hyllus: Death flees his grasp, Death whom he conquered once in its own realm; Nor will the fates permit so great a crime. Perchance dread Clotho from her trembling hand Has thrown aside her distaff, and in fear Refuses to complete Alcides' fate.