WOMEN OF TRAKHIS

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.