Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/264

246 But this alone of all his mighty deeds Alcides could not do. Yet striving still To tear the garment off, he tore the flesh. The robe seemed part of that gigantic form, Yea, pail and parcel of the flesh itself. The cause of this dire suffering is hid, But yet there is a cause. His pain at length Unable to endure, prone on the earth He grovels; now for cooling water calls. But water has no power to soothe his pain. He seeks the shore and plunges in the sea, The while his servant's hands direct his steps. Oh, bitter lot, that mighty Hercules Should come to be the mate of common men! And now a vessel from Euboea's shore Bears off the ponderous bulk of Hercules, The gentle southwind wafting it along. His spirit from his mighty frame has fled, And o'er his eyes have fall'n the shades of night. Deianira: Why dost thou hesitate? why stand amazed, O soul, that thus at last the deed is done? 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 yet thou mayst: Through this my guilty body let the sword 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, 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 Phaethon Thou hurledst, aim at me. For I myself