CHARACTERS
DEIANEIRA, Herakles’ wife
SERVANT, a woman of Deianeira’s household
HYLLOS, eldest son of Herakles and Deianeira
CHORUS of young Trakhinian women
LEADER of the Chorus
MESSENGER from Trakhis
LIKHAS, personal herald to Herakles
Captive Women of Oechalia
Iole, daughter of Eurytus
HERAKLES, heroic worker of miracles
OLD MAN, senior aide to Herakles
Soldiers serving Herakles
The play opens at Trakhis, in front of the house in which DEIANEIRA has been living. Its size and façade are impressive, but less than royal. DEIANEIRA and her female SERVANT enter the stage from the house.
DEIANEIRA
People have a saying that goes way back:
You don’t know your own life,
whether it’s good or evil—not
until it’s over. Mine I know now.
It’s unlucky and it’s harsh.
I know this long before
I’ll go down to Hades.
When I was still a girl, living
with my father in Pleuron,
marriage terrified me—like it 10
terrified no other girl in Aetolia—
because a river lusted for me, a river
named Achelous. He kept asking
Father if he could marry me,
each time in a different shape: first
a bull, next a glittering snake,
then an ox-head rising from a man’s trunk,
water sloshing from his rank beard.
When I imagined marrying that creature
I was so miserable! I’d want to die 20
before I got near a bed like his.
Then, just in time, joy arrived!
The amazing son of Zeus and Alkmene
battled him and saved me. Exactly
how he won this fight I can’t
tell you, because I don’t know. If someone
feeling less panic than I felt was watching,
he could tell you. I sat there numb, sure
my beauty would destroy me.
But Zeus the battle god blessed the outcome— 30
if what happened was really a blessing.
Ever since Herakles won me for his bed
I’ve nursed one fear after another.
There’s been no end to my anxiety.
Each night I imagine some new threat
which the next night’s threat scares away.
Of course we had children. He sees them, sometimes,
the way a farmer tends a back field, twice
a year—sowing his seed, reaping the harvest.
That was his life: no sooner home than he’s 40
back on the road, always working for this one man.
Now that he’s put his labors behind him,
I’m more afraid than ever.
From the time
Herakles killed that brave fighter Iphitus,
we’ve been uprooted, so we live
among strangers here in Trakhis.
Where Herakles is now, nobody knows. He’s gone.
That’s all I know. And that I ache for him.
No herald’s brought news for fifteen months.
I’m all but sure he’s mired in more trouble. 50
Then there’s this tablet he left me.
I’ve prayed so often to the gods
that it wasn’t meant to bring me grief.
The female SERVANT who has been listening to DEIANEIRA worry out loud approaches and interrupts her mistress.
SERVANT
Deianeira, my lady, so many times I’ve quietly
watched while you’ve wept, suffering with you
since Herakles has been gone. But now
I’ve got to say—if a slave may advise
a freeborn person—what you should do.
Since you’re so blessed with sons,
why not send one to find your husband? 60
Hyllos your eldest is the one to send—
if he thinks news of his father’s well-being
matters to us.
Here he comes now,
jogging up the path. If my advice
makes any sense, why not take it?
Enter HYLLOS, breathing hard from sport or the hunt. DEIANEIRA stops him as he runs past. SERVANT goes indoors.
DEIANEIRA
Hyllos, my son, sometimes even a slave
knows just what to say. She wasn’t
born free but speaks as if she were.
HYLLOS
Her words, Mother? May I hear them?
DEIANEIRA
Your father’s been gone for so long. She thinks 70
it’s shameful you haven’t tried to find him.
HYLLOS
But I do know where he is. If you can
believe what people have been saying.
DEIANEIRA
Then why not tell me, Son. Where he’s living.
HYLLOS
He slaved during last year’s plowing season
—seed to harvest—for a Lydian woman.
DEIANEIRA
If he has sunk that low, we can expect
to hear much worse said about him.
HYLLOS
He’s gotten clear of it now. So I hear.
DEIANEIRA
Do people say where he is? Alive, dead, what? 80
HYLLOS
They say he’s attacking Euboean
territory—the kingdom of Eurytus—
or getting ready to attack.
DEIANEIRA
Did you know, Son, that Herakles left me
prophecies—ones I trust—about that very place?
HYLLOS
What prophecies, Mother? They’re news to me.
DEIANEIRA
They say that he’ll either be killed, or if
successful in the battle he takes on—
then he’ll have peace for the rest of his days.
With his life hanging in the balance, Son, 90
won’t you go help him? Our own survival
depends on his. If he dies, so do we.
HYLLOS
Of course I’ll go, Mother. If I had known
how dangerous these prophecies were,
I’d be there now. But I never saw
much reason to worry. Father’s luck was
never the kind that would make me anxious.
Now that I’m better informed, I will do
whatever it takes to find out the truth.
DEIANEIRA
Then go now, Son. When you’ve searched out 100
the truth, no matter how late,
it always works to your advantage.
HYLLOS exits stage left on the road out of town. CHORUS enters from the town, singing.
CHORUS
O Sun! The Night
pulsing with stars
gives birth to you
the moment she
reddens into death.
You set, O Sun,
fire to her sky
as she lays you 110
to rest. O Sungod—
where, tell us where,
is Herakles,
Alkmene’s child?
Master of flaming light,
find Herakles!
Is he edging
through the straits
of the Black Sea?
Or making landfall 120
where continents meet?
Speak to us, you who see
what no man sees.
Deianeira’s heart
aches for this man.
Once a prize won in battle,
she’s restless as a bird
who’s lost its mate.
She can’t still her desire
or stop her tears. 130
Sleepless, ravaged
by fears for the husband
who’s gone, she wastes away,
alone on a manless bed,
imagining her own
miserable fate.
Just as you watch
waves surge and foam
over the open sea
under tireless winds— 140
Northwind, Southwind—
so the troubles of a life
wild as the sea off Crete
plunge Herakles under,
then lift him to greatness—
because always some god,
when Death sucks him down,
pulls him back into life.
Lady, I respect you,
but not your despair. 150
I don’t think it’s right
for you to let hope die.
Zeus makes sorrow a part
of whatever he gives us.
Grief and joy
come circling back
to all of us,
circling as the Bear
retraces her steps
on the starpaths. 160
For the night pulsing with stars
slows for no man, nor does wealth,
nor does pain—they all
speed through us, then they’re
gone to some other man
who’ll know joy and its loss.
Now I ask you, Queen Deianeira,
to ask this of yourself:
When has Zeus ever been
indifferent to one of his sons? 170
DEIANEIRA
You’re here, I suppose, because you know my troubles.
But you cannot know the worry eating
my heart out. I hope you’ll never
learn it by suffering what I’ve suffered.
As young girls we thrive in our own safe place,
where the Sungod’s heat doesn’t oppress us,
nor the rain nor the wind. You glory there
in your innocent life—until you marry.
Then panic attacks you night after night—
you fear for your husband, your children. 180
Wives know the misery I feel now
when they face what I’ve had to face.
I’ve wept—so much—long before this.
But now I must tell you something far worse.
When Herakles embarked on his last journey
he left behind a message carved on wood.
Never before—and he went to fight often—
had he explained its meaning to me.
Always sure that he’d win,
he never believed he would die. 190
But this time he seemed to expect his own death.
He told me how much of his wealth
would be my widow’s share, which lands
would go to each of his children—but
this time he fixed the date of his own death.
When he’d been out of the country fifteen
months, that would be his time to die.
But if he survived after that,
there’d be no further trouble in his life.
The gods ordained this destiny, he said— 200
ordained that Herakles’ own labors
would cause it. So it will happen
just as the ancient oak at Dodona’s
shrine told him it would, when its leaves
rustled and whispered to its sibyls.
Today’s the day that prophecy falls due.
I wake in terror from a long sweet sleep, friends,
fearing I must live on without the man
who is—of all men living—the best.
LEADER
Shush. Let go of those mysteries for now. 220
A man wearing laurel flowers
is walking toward us, a sure sign
he brings news we can celebrate.
Enter MESSENGER.
MESSENGER
Queen Deianeira, let me
be the first to reassure you.
Herakles is alive. He’s won,
and from that battle he’s sent home
trophies to please our native gods.
DEIANEIRA
Old man, what’s this news you’ve just brought me? 230
MESSENGER
That your lord, loved by so many,
will be restored to your house
in all his victorious might.
DEIANEIRA
Who told you this, a stranger or a villager?
MESSENGER
Down in the meadow where oxen graze all summer,
a herald named Likhas is telling everyone.
I heard it from him and hurried here,
hoping that you’d be generous
if I was the first to tell you.
DEIANEIRA
Why doesn’t Likhas bring the news himself 240
if fortune’s been so good to Herakles?
MESSENGER
It’s not so easy for him, ma’am. The whole
town of Malia crushes around him,
asking questions. He’s stuck there—everyone
intent on learning what interests them.
They won’t let him go till each hears his fill.
That ruckus holds him there unwillingly,
but I’m sure you’ll see him in person soon.
DEIANEIRA
O Zeus,
who keeps the highlands of Mount Oita green, 250
you’ve given us some joy at last! Sing out
your gladness at this news, you women
in the house and come from town, brilliant news
beyond all hope, that dawns on me, on us!
CHORUS
Let the house
that awaits
its bridegroom
sing out in joy
triumphant
from its hearth!
Let shouts from the men 260
in one great voice
go to the god Apollo
whose keen bright
arrows protect us!
Join them, girls,
sing the anthem
to Artemis, his sister, let
your voices carry
to her hunting deer 270
in fields where quail fly!
Sing to the goddess
whose torches blaze
in both her hands, sing
to her neighbors
the nymphs!
I’m soaring!
I won’t deny you,
flute, king of my soul!
Ivy is working 280
green magic
through my body—
Haiiiii! Eiiiiiiii!—
ivy whirls me
into the flashing
dance of Bakkhos!
Praise Bakkhos
who heals us!
Look over there,
beloved lady. 290
What I am singing
your eyes can see!
DEIANEIRA
I see them, girls. My eyes
have been scanning the horizon.
Enter LIKHAS leading several of the Captive Women up the path. The group includes the strikingly young and sensual Iole.
You’ve come a long way, Likhas. We’re glad you’re here,
if it’s true that your news will make us glad.
LIKHAS
Our coming is good news—and the facts I bring
will justify your welcome. When a man’s been
lucky, he should be greeted as a friend.
DEIANEIRA
Then tell me, friend, what I most want to hear. 300
Will I see Herakles come home alive?
LIKHAS
Not only was he alive when I left him,
he was robust. Not sick in any way.
DEIANEIRA
Where is he? Home, or still on foreign soil?
LIKHAS
A headland juts west from Euboea. Herakles
is on it making sacrifices to Zeus.
He builds altars and offers to the gods
some of the wealth he’s won by making war.
DEIANEIRA
To keep a vow? Or was an oracle involved?
LIKHAS
A vow. He keeps the vow he made 310
when he conquered a country
and stripped it of these women here.
DEIANEIRA notices the Captive Women entering under guard.
DEIANEIRA
These women—who are they? Who owns them?
I feel so sorry for them. Or am I wrong
to think that they’ll be slaves?
LIKHAS
He picked them out when he raided Eurytus’ city.
Splendid prizes for himself. And the gods.
DEIANEIRA
Was it that raid against a city—which
lasted longer than anyone predicted?
So long I lost all track of the days? 320
LIKHAS
No. He was in Lydia most of that time—
not a free man, he told us, but enslaved.
You won’t take offense at the word “enslaved,”
lady, when you hear the reason Zeus willed it.
Herakles was bought by a foreign queen
named Omphale for a full year. He admits it.
He was so mortified by this disgrace
he vowed to make the man who had caused it,
as well as his wife and daughter, slaves themselves.
Not idle words. When he’d done a year’s 330
penance for this crime, he hired
an army to lay siege to that man’s
city—making Eurytus pay dearly,
the man most to blame for his troubles.
Herakles was an old comrade of this Eurytus,
and had sought refuge—in friendship—under his roof.
But Eurytus abused Herakles, lashing him
with vicious words meant to wound him:
“Your arrows never miss, do they Herakles?
How come my sons beat you in competition? 340
What’s more, you’re now a mere slave who grovels
when a free man barks at you.” When Herakles
got drunk on wine at a feast, Eurytus kicked him
out of the house. Herakles was enraged.
So one day, when Eurytus’ son scrambles
high up Mount Tiryns tracking some lost horses,
he drops his guard while his eyes search the vast
plain below him. While he’s preoccupied
Herakles grabs the lad and throws
him off a sky-high cliff to his death. 350
This murder disgusted our real king,
Olympian Zeus, father of us all,
who had Herakles sold
as a slave to another country.
With no parole allowed, since he’d
killed Iphitus by deceit—the only
man Herakles ever killed that way.
Had he killed his man fairly,
Zeus would have pardoned him.
Gods don’t appreciate insolence 360
any more than we do.
Now all those men
he killed, so full of themselves, bursting
with arrogant and bitter things to say—
they’re down in Hades, their town’s enslaved.
Their women I’ve brought here trade their lives
of ease for a much less pleasant existence.
Your husband ordered this, so I loyally
carry it out. Once he has sacrificed to Zeus,
the god who fathered him, in thanks for his
victory, you can be sure he’ll come to you. 370
Of all my news, this last must please you most.
LEADER
It’s certain you’ll be happy, Queen. Half your joy
has arrived, and the rest is on the way.
DEIANEIRA
Why shouldn’t news of my husband’s success
make me happy? Such good fortune must
always be celebrated. But a cautious mind
will feel apprehension for any man
who has so much luck. He could lose it all.
DEIANEIRA looks at the Captive Women.
My friends, I feel a strange pity,
looking at these sorry captives— 380
exiles who’ve lost their fathers and their homes.
Once they were daughters of free men.
Now they’ll be slaves for the rest of their lives.
Zeus, who decides all battles, grant
me this: don’t ever punish my children
the way you punish these girls.
But if it must happen, do it when I’m gone.
That’s how much looking at them scares me.
DEIANEIRA approaches Iole.
You poor girl! Who are you? Are you married?
Have you a child? You look so innocent. 390
And so wellborn. Who is her father, Likhas?
Her mother—who is she? Out with it!
I pity her more than the other women
because she seems to know what to expect.
LIKHAS
Why ask me? How should I know? Could be
her father’s not the poorest man in his kingdom.
DEIANEIRA
Is she royal? Did Eurytus have a daughter?
LIKHAS
I don’t know. Sorry. I didn’t ask many questions.
DEIANEIRA
Didn’t her friends ever mention her name?
LIKHAS
No, ma’am. I had a job to do. No time for chat. 400
DEIANEIRA again approaches Iole.
DEIANEIRA
You tell me then, poor girl. It upsets me
that I don’t even know your name.
LIKHAS
It won’t be like her if she speaks. She hasn’t
spoken a word. She’s done nothing but cry
miserable tears the whole way here
from her windswept home, devastated
by what the Goddess of Luck
has done to her. Let’s respect that.
DEIANEIRA
Let her be. Let her go inside if she wishes.
I won’t add to the pain she’s been through. 410
She’s had enough. Let’s all go in—so you
can make an early start on your journey
while I see to some things in my house.
LIKHAS and Captive Women start to go inside; the MESSENGER edges closer to DEIANEIRA as she follows them inside.
MESSENGER
(to DEIANEIRA)
Don’t go inside just yet. Let all these folk
move out of earshot, so I can tell you
some things you haven’t heard. Things I know.
DEIANEIRA
What things? Why are you keeping me here?
MESSENGER
Stay and hear me out. You valued what I told you
before. You’ll value what I tell you now.
DEIANEIRA
Shall we call everyone back? Or do you want 420
to speak only to me and these women?
LIKHAS pauses in the doorway as he notices that the MESSENGER has taken DEIANEIRA aside.
MESSENGER
I can speak freely to you—and these women.
Don’t bother the others.
DEIANEIRA waves for LIKHAS to go inside. He and the Captive Women disappear into the house.
DEIANEIRA
They’re gone. Go ahead.
MESSENGER
None of what that man just told you is true.
Either he was lying to you here, or
lying to the rest of us a while back.
DEIANEIRA
What are you saying? Collect
your thoughts. Speak distinctly.
So far your words just puzzle me.
MESSENGER
I heard that man say—in front of witnesses— 430
that the girl was the real reason Herakles
crushed Eurytus and his city Oechalia.
It was Love, that god alone, who made him fight—
not his bondage to Omphale in Lydia.
It had nothing to do with Iphitus’ death.
Likhas has pushed the true story aside
so he can tell you a much different one.
Now, when Herakles couldn’t persuade
her father to let him bed this young girl
in secret, he blew up a minor insult 440
as a pretext to make war on her country—
then killed Eurytus and plundered his city.
Please try to see that it’s no accident
he sends her to this house. She won’t be a slave.
That’s not likely to happen, when his heart’s
burning for her.
I vowed, Queen, to tell you
everything I’ve heard from that man.
Many others heard him say it, along with me—
Trakhinian men gathered in the market—
who’ll back me up and convict him. 450
If what I say hurts, I’m sorry.
But I’ve told you the straight truth.
DEIANEIRA
I’m in shock. What is happening to me?
Who is this secret rival I give houseroom?
I’m so stupid! She doesn’t have a name,
as Likhas swore to me? No name? A girl
with such striking looks and royal bearing?
MESSENGER
She has a name. Her father is Eurytus
and her name is Iole. If Likhas
can’t tell you her name or her family’s, 460
it must be—as he says—because he never asked.
LEADER
(to DEIANEIRA)
Treachery to those who trust you
seems to me the worst kind of evil.
DEIANEIRA
What should I do, friends? That last piece
of news leaves me dumbfounded.
LEADER
Bring Likhas back. Question him. Maybe he’ll
tell you the truth if you force him to talk.
DEIANEIRA
That’s good advice. Exactly what I’ll do.
MESSENGER
Should I stay? What would you like me to do?
DEIANEIRA
Wait here. Likhas is coming without my asking. 470
Enter LIKHAS.
LIKHAS
Lady, have you a message for Herakles?
If you do, instruct me. As you see, I’m off.
DEIANEIRA
You’re leaving in a big hurry—for someone
who took so long getting here—and before
we’ve had time to finish our conversation.
LIKHAS
If there’s something you want to ask, I’ll oblige.
DEIANEIRA
Can I trust you to tell me the truth?
LIKHAS
You can—if I know it. Zeus will know if I lie.
DEIANEIRA
Who is that woman you’ve brought here?
LIKHAS
She’s from Euboea. From what clan I can’t say. 480
MESSENGER
You! Look at me. Who are you talking to?
LIKHAS
Who are you? Why ask me such a question?
MESSENGER
You understand me well enough to answer.
LIKHAS
I’m talking to Queen Deianeira—unless I’m blind.
Herakles’ wife, Oeneus’ daughter. My Queen.
MESSENGER
Your Queen. That’s what I hoped you’d say.
So what does that make you?
LIKHAS
Her loyal servant.
MESSENGER
Right. What’s the penalty for disloyalty?
LIKHAS
Disloyal how? What word game are you playing? 490
MESSENGER
If someone’s playing games with words, you are.
LIKHAS
I’m a fool to put up with this. I’m gone.
MESSENGER
No! Not till you answer one brief question.
LIKHAS
Ask it. You don’t seem bashful in the least.
MESSENGER
That girl slave you brought here—you know the one?
LIKHAS
I know the one. What about her?
MESSENGER
Didn’t you tell us that this captive—the one
your eyes keep trying to avoid—
is Iole, Eurytus’ daughter?
LIKHAS
Said that to whom? Where’s the witness 500
who swears to have heard me say that?
MESSENGER
You said it to the whole town in the main square—
many Trakhinians heard you say it.
LIKHAS
Right. It’s something I heard secondhand.
That’s not the same as swearing it was true.
MESSENGER
Secondhand, eh? You swore on oath
you brought this girl to be Herakles’ wife!
LIKHAS
Me? Bringing him a wife? For god’s sake, Queen,
please tell me who this stranger is?
MESSENGER
I’m the man who heard you say that a city 510
was leveled out of lust for her—no Lydian woman
destroyed it—it was desire for that girl.
LIKHAS
Lady, get rid of him. It isn’t dignified
for a sane person to conduct a ludicrous
quarrel with a man whose mind is sick.
DEIANEIRA
By Zeus!—whose lightning scorches mountain glens,
don’t cheat me of the truth! Tell it to me!
You won’t find me a spiteful woman, or
one ignorant of what people are like.
I know the things that pleasure men can change. 520
Someone who picks a fight and trades blows
with Eros the love god is so foolish.
Eros rules even the gods, and he rules me
just as he rules any woman like me.
I would be mad if I blamed my husband
because he’s lovesick—mad to blame that girl,
who has done nothing shameful, nor harmed me.
I can’t think like that.
But if you were taught
to lie by him, you learned a vulgar lesson.
If you’re a self-taught liar, you’ll always seem 530
treacherous when you’re trying to be kind.
Tell me the truth, all of it. To be called a liar
is the worst reproach a free man can suffer.
Don’t think I won’t find it all out. Many men
heard you, and they’ll tell me what you said.
DEIANEIRA pauses. LIKHAS says nothing.
You’re worried you’ll hurt me? You fear the wrong thing.
Not knowing the truth—that could damage me. What’s
so terrible about finding out? Herakles
has been to bed with so many women—
more than any man living. Never once 540
has one of these women—ever—heard me speak
a harsh or jealous word. Nor will
she, even if she returns all
the affection he feels for her.
I pitied her as soon as I saw her
because her beauty has ruined her life.
And though she never willed it, her beauty
has looted and enslaved her fatherland.
But wind and water blow all this away.
Deceive somebody else. Tell me the truth. 550
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 absent 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 things
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
at the sea-pounded rocks below. His brains
oozed white through his hair where the skull
broke open, then blood darkened it.
The people
cried out in awestruck grief, seeing one man
gone mad, another dead—but no one dared
go near him. Pain wrestled him down, then forced him
to leap up, shrieking wild sounds that echoed
off the headlands of Locris and the capes of Euboea. 900
When he was worn out from throwing himself
so many times screaming on the ground,
cursing and cursing his catastrophic
marriage to you, miserable woman,
and his alliance with your father, Oeneus—
yelled that it ruined his life—at that instant,
half-hidden in swirling altar smoke, he looked up,
his fierce eyes rolling, and saw me weeping
in the crowd. “Come here, Son,” he called to me.
“Don’t turn your back on me now—even 910
if you must share the death I am dying.
Lift me up, take me somewhere men can’t watch.
If you can pity me at all, take me away
so I’ll die anywhere but in this place.”
We did as he asked, carried him aboard,
and landed him—it wasn’t easy—with him
suffering and groaning. You’ll see him soon now,
still breathing, or just dead.
Those, Mother, are
the plot and the acts of which you’re guilty.
May Vengeance and the Furies destroy you. 920
And if they do crush you, I will rejoice.
And to exult is just. You’ve made it
just, killing the best man who ever lived.
You’ll never see a man like him, ever.
DEIANEIRA turns and walks toward the house without a word.
LEADER
Why are you walking quietly away? Don’t
you see? Your silence proves him right!
HYLLOS
Let her go.
Let a fair wind blow her away.
Why call her “Mother”
if there’s no mother
left in the woman? Let her go— 930
good-bye and good luck to her.
Let the same joy
she gave Father
seize her.
HYLLOS enters the house.
CHORUS
O sisters—see how suddenly
the sacred promise of the oracle,
spoken so long ago, strikes home.
It promised us the twelfth year
would end the long harsh work
of Herakles, a true son of Zeus. 940
At last the oracle comes true.
For how can a dead man work,
once he has gone to the grave?
If death darkens his face
as the centaur’s poison
pierces his sides, poison fathered
by Death and nourished
by the jewel-skinned
serpent, how can he live
to see tomorrow’s sun? 950
Locked in the Hydra’s
writhing grip, the black-
haired centaur’s
treacherous words
erupt at last—lashing Herakles
with burning, surging pain.
Our Queen knew nothing of this,
but a marriage loomed
that threatened her home.
She saw it coming. 960
Her hand seized the cure.
But the virulent hatred
of a strange beast—spoken at their one
fatal encounter—now brings tears
pouring from her eyes.
And doom comes on,
doom comes on, making
ever more clear this huge
calamity caused by guile.
Our tears burn as this plague 970
invades him, a crueler blow
than any his enemies
ever brought down
on this glorious hero
Herakles.
O dark
steel-tipped spear, keen
for battle, did you
capture that bride
from the heights
of Oechalia? 980
No! The love goddess,
Aphrodite, without
saying a word,
made it happen.
SERVANT
(offstage)
No! No!
SEMI-CHORUS 1
Do I imagine it?
Or is it the cry
of somebody grieving?
SEMI-CHORUS 2
No vague noise—
it’s anguish inside. 990
More trouble
for this house.
LEADER
See how slowly, her face dark,
an old woman comes toward us,
bringing us news.
Enter SERVANT from the house.
SERVANT
Daughters, we are still harvesting evil
from the gift that she sent to Herakles.
LEADER
Old woman, do you bring worse news?
SERVANT
Deianeira has left on her last journey.
Gone without taking one step. 1000
LEADER
You mean death, don’t you?
SERVANT
You heard me say it.
LEADER
Dead? That poor woman?
SERVANT
You’ve heard it twice.
LEADER
Wretched woman! How did she die?
SERVANT
The act itself was savage.
LEADER
Tell us what happened!
SERVANT
She stabbed herself.
LEADER
What rash fury,
what sick frenzy, made her do it? How
did she manage to make her death
follow his—and do it herself?
SERVANT
One thrust of a steel blade was enough.
LEADER
Then you saw her . . . kill herself? Poor woman! 1010
SERVANT
I saw it. I was there.
LEADER
What happened! How did it happen? Say it!
SERVANT
Her hand did what her mind chose.
LEADER
What are you saying?
SERVANT
The simple truth.
LEADER
The first-born child
of that new bride
is an avenging Fury—
scourging this house!
SERVANT
Now you see it. If you had seen the act itself,
you would have pitied her even more. 1020
LEADER
(pausing a beat)
How could a woman dare . . . do such a thing?
With her own hand?
SERVANT
Yes. It stunned me.
You must know what she did.
So you can tell the others.
When she came in alone,
and saw her son preparing a stretcher
in the courtyard—so he could go meet
his father—she hid, hoping no one could find her,
collapsing on the sacred altars, screaming
they’d be abandoned. When she touched
ordinary things that had been part of her life,
she wept. Aimlessly roaming, room to room, 1030
she saw the faces of servants she cherished.
This brought on more tears, more grief
at her own and her household’s destruction.
Strangers, she said, would soon take over
her house. After she’d stopped all that,
I saw her burst into Herakles’ bedroom.
Through an open doorway I watched.
She spread blankets on her lord’s bed,
jumped onto it, huddled there, tears
welling from her eyes, and cried out: 1040
“Our room! Bed where we loved! Good-bye
forever! Since you will never again
feel me lie down.” That’s all she said.
She ripped her robe open, viciously, just
where a gold brooch was pinned over her breasts,
leaving her left arm and whole ribcage naked.
I ran—fast as I could—to find her son
and warn him what she meant to do. Before we
got back, she’d driven a sword through her heart.
When he saw her, her son roared, because 1050
he knew, he knew, that his own rage
had made her do it. He’d found out
too late from the servants that she hadn’t
known what she was doing when she
followed the centaur’s instructions.
Her young son, now so miserable,
mourned her passionately. Kneeling at her side,
he kissed and kissed her lips, then stretched out
sobbing on the ground next to her bed,
confessing he was wrong to attack her, 1060
weeping that he’d been orphaned for life,
his mother and his father, both of them, dead.
All this has just happened. He is rash
who makes plans for tomorrow, makes any
plans at all—tomorrow doesn’t exist
until we have survived today.
LEADER
Who should I mourn first?
Whose death brings more grief?
I don’t know.
CHORUS
There is one sorrow in this house, 1070
we wait for another to arrive—
anxiety and grief are blood brothers.
LEADER
May a blast of wind
blow through our house
to drive me out of this land,
so I won’t die of terror
when I see him, the once
great son of Zeus.
CHORUS
He’s coming home, they tell us,
a fire in his bones nothing can cure, 1080
an unspeakable miracle of pain.
LEADER
He isn’t far away,
he’s near, the man I grieve
in my ear-piercing
nightingale’s voice.
Strangers are bearing him here,
but how do they carry him?
They seem to suffer his pain,
as they would for a friend.
HERAKLES, unconscious, accompanied by the OLD MAN, is carried in by his Soldiers on a stretcher.
They walk on sad silent feet. 1090
Oh they bring him in silence!
Should I think he is dead?
Or think he is sleeping?
Enter HYLLOS from the house.
HYLLOS
Father, to see you like this
hurts me so much! Father,
what can I do?
OLD MAN
Don’t talk. You’ll only stir up spasms
that’ll enrage him. He breathes, but he’s still
unconscious. Keep your mouth shut.
HYLLOS
You’re saying he’s alive, old man? 1100
OLD MAN
Don’t wake him! Don’t start him
again on that crazed lashing out.
HYLLOS
I’m the one losing my mind
under the weight of his pain.
HERAKLES wakes.
HERAKLES
O Zeus, what country are we in?
Who are these men staring at me?
I’m worn out by this torture.
God it hurts! Like rats gorging on my flesh.
OLD MAN
You see, I was right. Better to keep still
than to chase sleep from his mind and eyes. 1110
HYLLOS
No! How can I stand here while he suffers?
HERAKLES
You—Cenaean Rock on the coast
where I built my altars—is this how
you thank me for those sacrifices?
O Zeus! To what weakness that Rock
brought me! What wretched weakness.
I wish I’d never seen that place—
the place that made these eyes
boil over with madness,
madness nothing can soothe. 1120
Where is the spellbinder, the shrewd doctor,
who can cure this disease? Only Zeus.
Will the healer visit my bed?
I’d be amazed if he did.
Aiiiie!
Let me be. So unlucky! Let me die.
(to HYLLOS and the OLD MAN)
Don’t touch me.
Don’t turn me over.
That will kill me! Kill me!
If any of my pains slept,
you woke them up.
It grinds me—
O this plague
keeps coming back! 1130
Where are you now, you Greeks,
my coldhearted countrymen?
I wore myself out clearing
Greece of marauders—
sea monsters, forest brutes.
Now, when I’m struck down,
where is the man willing
to save me with the mercy
of fire and steel? Come—cut
this head from my neck— 1140
one solid blow will do it.
O Zeus, I am miserable.
OLD MAN
Help me with him—you are his son!
He’s more than I can handle. Your strength
can lift him much better than mine.
HYLLOS
I’m holding him. But I don’t know how—
does anyone know how?—
to deaden his flesh to this torture.
This is what Zeus wants him to feel.
HERAKLES
Where are you, Son? 1150
Lift me up. Hold me here,
under here. Here it comes—
this beast none of us can beat down,
lunging at me, sinking its teeth.
Goddess Athena, it hits me now, again.
Honor your father, Son. Take a sword,
no one will blame you, and drive it
through me—below my collarbone.
That will numb the screaming pain
your heartless mother tears from me. 1160
I want to see her quieted just like that—
screaming, the same way I’ll go down.
Sweet Hades, Zeus’ brother,
let me rest, take my life, take it
with one swift stroke of peace.
LEADER
Friends, I hear our lord suffer and I shiver.
Such a great man—and so much pain.
HERAKLES
I have done blazing work with my hands,
I’ve shouldered ugly burdens on this back,
but no task given me 1170
by Zeus’ wife, or that hated
Eurystheus, equaled
what Oeneus’ daughter—
Deianeira! Deianeira!
so lovely, so treacherous—
forced on me: this net
of the Furies
woven around my death!
It’s plastered to my body, it
eats through to my guts. 1180
It’s always in me—sucking
my lungs dry, leeching the fresh
blood from my veins—so my whole
body’s wasted, crushed
by these flesh-eating shackles.
No fighting soldier,
no army of giants
sprung from the earth,
no shock of wild beasts,
hurt me like this—not my own Greece, 1190
not barbarous shores, no land
I came to save. No, a frail woman,
born with no male strength,
she beat me—only she.
And didn’t even need a sword.
Son, prove you are my son in fact.
Show me you’re my son, and not hers.
Bring her out here, the woman who bore you.
Take her in your hands and put her in mine.
When she suffers what she deserves, 1200
I’ll know what causes you more pain—
my own broken body, or hers.
Go do it, Son. Don’t cringe. Do it.
Show me some pity. Others will say
I have earned it. Look at me,
weeping and bawling like a girl. No man living
can say he saw me act like this, no!
I went wherever fortune sent me, without
a murmur. Now this hard man
finds out he’s a woman. 1210
Come here, stand by your father,
look how Fate mauls me. I will
open my robe. Look, all of you,
on this sorry body. See how
disgusting and shocking my life is!
HERAKLES rips open the blood-soaked robe that’s bonded to his chest.
Aiiiie!
That raw, flaming pain
is back, roaring through me,
forcing me to fight it again,
so hungry for my flesh. 1220
Hades, welcome me!
Zeus, drive your lightning
into my brain.
The beast is at me again,
it’s famished and it’s raging.
My hands, O you hands,
my shoulders, chest, arms—
how frail you are!
Once you did all that I asked.
You are the lethal weapons 1230
that strangled the lion prowling
the plains of Nemea—
no man could get near
that cattle-raiding cat—but you could!
You tamed the flailing Hydra of Lerna
and that monstrous herd, those centaurs—
men fused to horses, a breed
violent, lawless, brutally strong.
You mastered the wild boar
of Erymanthus, and the three-headed bitch 1240
Hades kept in his dark realm, a terror
that cowed all comers,
the whelp of Echidna the Dreaded.
You whipped the serpent who stood guard
over the golden apples at the ends of the earth.
These struggles—and a thousand more—
have tested me. No man can boast
he has beaten my strength.
But now, with my bones
unhinged and my flesh shredded, 1250
I lose to an invisible raider—
I, son of a mother so noble,
I, whose father they call Zeus,
god of the star-filled sky.
Be sure of this one thing—though I’m nothing,
though I can’t walk a step—she, she who did this
will feel my stony hand, even now, even now.
Let her come here. She’ll show the world
that in my death, as in my life, I punish evil.
LEADER
What a disaster. There’s nothing
but mourning ahead for Greece 1260
if she must lose this man.
HYLLOS
Father, let me speak while you’re quiet.
I know your pain’s unbearable, but listen.
I ask for no more than you owe me.
Take my advice. Be calm. Cool your anger.
If you rage, you will never learn why
your hunger for vengeance is wrong.
Why your hatred has no cause.
HERAKLES
Say your piece, then be still. I’m in too
much pain to make sense of your riddles. 1270
HYLLOS
I want to tell you how my Mother is.
And that she never willed the wrong she did.
HERAKLES
You worthless son! You’re brave to use
her name in my presence, the mother
who murdered—me—your father.
HYLLOS
There’s something else about her you must know.
HERAKLES
Tell me her past crimes. Speak of them.
HYLLOS
Her acts today will speak to you.
When you’ve heard them, judge her.
HERAKLES
Go on.
But don’t disgrace yourself or betray me. 1280
HYLLOS
She is dead. Killed just now.
HERAKLES
Who killed her? Incredible! You couldn’t
have given me more hateful news.
HYLLOS
She killed herself. With her own hand. No one else’s.
HERAKLES
(raising his right arm)
It should have been this hand. She deserved this hand!
HYLLOS
You wouldn’t hate her—if you knew.
HERAKLES
Wouldn’t hate her? If I knew what?
HYLLOS
Her good intentions hurt you—that’s the truth.
HERAKLES
Her “good intention” to kill me?
HYLLOS
When she saw the woman who’s in our house, 1290
she used love medicine to keep you. It went wrong.
HERAKLES
And who in Trakhis has a drug so potent?
HYLLOS
Years back, the centaur Nessus
gave it to her—told her this drug
would make your passion burn again.
HERAKLES
O what a miserable creature I am!
I’m finished. Finished! For me
there will be no more sunlight.
This is my ruin. I know where I am.
Your father’s life is over, Son. 1300
Gather all of my children here.
Bring unlucky Alkmene too—her coupling
with Zeus, my father, came to nothing—
so all of you can learn, from my
dying mouth, what oracles I possess.
HYLLOS
Your mother is not here. She’s at Tiryns
on the seacoast, where she’s been living.
She’s taken some of your children, to raise
them there. Your other children are in Thebes.
Those of us left—we’ll do what you ask. 1310
Tell me your wishes. I’ll carry them out.
HERAKLES
Listen to my orders. Here is your chance
to show what you’re made of.
To prove you’re my son.
I learned long ago from my father
I would be killed by no creature who breathes—
but only by a dead beast from Hades. So
that centaur killed me—the dead kill the living—
just as the voice of Zeus had sworn to me.
Now hear how one old prophecy 1320
makes sense of an even older one,
the one I brought home from the grove
of the Selloi—mountain people who still
sleep on the ground—a prophecy
made by an oak tree of my father’s,
an oak which spoke every language.
This oak whispered to me
that at the very hour
through which we now live,
I would be set free at last 1330
from my life of hard labor.
I thought that meant
good times would come,
but those words meant
no more than this:
that I would die now.
The dead do no work.
Son, since those old words are coming true,
you must help me. Don’t obstruct me, don’t
force me to use harsh words. Help me willingly— 1340
because you’ve learned the best law there is:
fathers must always be obeyed.
HYLLOS
Father, I am alarmed at where your talk
is taking us, but I’ll do all you ask.
HERAKLES
First, put your right hand in mine.
HYLLOS
Why are you forcing me to pledge this way?
HERAKLES
Give me your hand—now! Don’t refuse me.
HYLLOS
(reaching out to his father)
Here, take my hand. I can’t refuse you.
HERAKLES
Swear by the head of Zeus, my father. Swear.
HYLLOS
Swear to do what? What am I promising to do? 1350
HERAKLES
You’re promising me to do what I ask.
HYLLOS
I promise you. I swear this before Zeus.
HERAKLES
Ask Zeus to crush you if you break your word.
HYLLOS
I so pray. Zeus won’t punish me. I’ll keep my word.
HERAKLES
You know Mount Oita, whose peak is sacred to Zeus?
HYLLOS
Yes. I’ve gone there often to sacrifice.
HERAKLES
Carry me there, with your own hands,
helped by what friends you need.
Cut down a great oak, cut wild olive limbs.
Bed my body down on these branches. 1360
Then set them on fire with a flaming pine torch.
No tears. Don’t sing hymns of mourning.
No, do not weep. Do it this way
because you are my son.
If you fail, I’ll wait in Hades
to curse you through eternity.
HYLLOS
Father! What are you asking? You force me to do this?
HERAKLES
I ask you to do what must be done. If you can’t
do it—go be some other man’s son. You’re not mine.
HYLLOS
Father, why this? You’re asking me 1370
to be your killer, to curse myself with your blood.
HERAKLES
I don’t ask that. I ask you to heal me,
to be the one healer who can cure my pain.
HYLLOS
How does setting fire to your body cure it?
HERAKLES
If burning me appalls you, do the rest.
HYLLOS
I’ll take you there—I can at least do that.
HERAKLES
And will you build the pyre just as I asked?
HYLLOS
I will, but not with my own hands. Others will build it.
I’ll do everything else. You can trust me.
HERAKLES
That will be more than enough. 1380
You do a great thing for me, Son.
But there’s one small thing more I ask.
HYLLOS
Ask it. I’ll do it. Nothing is too great.
HERAKLES
Do you know the girl whose father was Eurytus?
HYLLOS
You mean Iole.
HERAKLES
You know her. This is what I charge you
to do, my son. When I’m dead, if you would
honor the oath you swore to Zeus,
make her your wife. Do not disobey me.
No other man must marry this woman 1390
who shared my bed. No one but you, Son.
Marry her. Agree to it. You obeyed me
on the great things. If you fight me
on this minor one, you will lose
all the respect you have earned.
HYLLOS
How can I rage at a sick man? But who
could stand what this sickness does to his mind?
HERAKLES
You refuse to do what I ask.
HYLLOS
She caused my mother’s death and your disease.
How could any man choose her— 1400
unless the Furies left him insane?
She’s my worst enemy.
How could I live with her?
Better to die.
HERAKLES
I’m dying, and he scorns my prayer.
You can be sure, my son, that the gods’ curse
will hound your defiance of my wishes.
HYLLOS
No, you are going to show us
how cursed you already are.
HERAKLES
You! You are waking up my rage! 1410
HYLLOS
There’s nothing I can do. There’s no way out.
HERAKLES
Because you’ve chosen not to hear your father.
HYLLOS
Should I listen, and learn blasphemy from you?
HERAKLES
It isn’t blasphemy for a son
to make his dying father glad.
HYLLOS
Do you command me as your son?
Do you make it my duty to you?
HERAKLES
Son, I command you. May the gods judge me.
HYLLOS
Then I’ll do it. Can the gods condemn me
if I do this out of loyalty to my father? 1420
The gods know—it is you who have willed this.
HERAKLES
In the end, Son, you do what’s right.
Now make good on your words.
Put me on the pyre before the pain comes
searing back. Lift me up. The only cure
for Herakles’ pain is Herakles’ death.
HYLLOS
You’ll have your wish.
Nothing stands in its way.
Your will prevails.
HERAKLES
Now you, my own hard-bitten soul— 1430
before my sickness attacks again—
clamp my mouth shut like a steel bit
so not one scream escapes your stony grip.
Do this harsh work as though it gives you joy.
The Soldiers lift the stretcher and carry it toward the mountain with the CHORUS and then HYLLOS following in a cortege.
HYLLOS
Lift him up, friends. Forgive me
for what I am about to do.
But look at the cruelty of what
the ruthless gods have done
to us—the gods whom we call
our fathers, whose children we are— 1440
and yet how coolly they watch us suffer.
No one foresees the future,
but our present is awash with grief
that shames even the gods, and pain
beyond anything we can know
strikes this man who now meets his doom.
Women, don’t cower in the house.
Come with us. You’ve just seen death
and devastating calamity, but
you’ve seen nothing that is not Zeus. 1450
HYLLOS and the Soldiers lift and carry the hero offstage toward the mountain.