Page:Tragedies of Sophocles (Plumptre 1878).djvu/357

Rh In part to tell you what my hands devise,

In part to crave your pity for my wrongs.

This maiden I receive,—and yet I trow

No longer maid, but one already wed,—

As sailor who takes in a troublous freight,

So a bad bargain I receive in her,

Poor wage for all my love. And so we share,

We twain, th' embrace one coverlet conceals.

Such is the meed of all my care of home,

That Heracles, whom men call true and good,

Hath sent to me for all my years of toil;

And I indeed have found it hard to feel

Fierce wrath against him, with this fell disease

Sore smitten as he is. But who could bear,

What woman's heart, with such a one to dwell,

And share one bed with her? Her bloom I see

Still coming on, and mine begins to wane;

And well I know the eye is wont to seize

That blossom fair, and turn the foot from age.

And so I fear lest Heracles be found

My lawful spouse, but husband fond and true

Of her the younger. But, as I have said,

It is not good a wife of judgment sound

Should show her anger. Therefore, Ο my friends,

I tell you what I have as remedy

To set me free. A gift long since I had

From the old Kentaur stored in vase of bronze,

Which I, while yet a girl, from Nessos had,

As he, with swarth, rough mane, did bleed to death,

For he was wont to carry men for pay

Across Evenos' deep and torrent stream,

Nor plying oars, nor spreading sail of ship.

And he, when first, as bride of Heracles,

I followed from my father's house sent forth,