I have full cognisance.
What meanest thou?
Why dost thou bid me pause and stay my steps?
Stay them and listen. As my former news
Was worth the hearing, so methinks is this.
Say, shall I call the others back to hear,
Or wouldst thou speak with me and these alone?
With thee and these; the rest are well away.
See, they are gone; proceed then with thy tale.
Yon fellow spake not the straightforward truth
In aught he told thee; either now he’s false,
Or else before was no true messenger.
How say’st thou? Tell me clearly all thy mind.
These covert hints I cannot understand.
’Twas for this maiden’s sake (I heard the man,
And many witnesses were by, declare it)
That Heracles laid prostrate in the dust
Oechalia’s battlements and Eurytus.
Love was his leader, love alone inspired
This doughty deed, not his base servitude
As bondsman under Lydian Omphalè,
Nor ruth for Iphitus hurled headlong down,
As Lichas feigned, who shrank to tell of love.
So, when he failed to win her sire’s consent
To give the maiden for his paramour,
Picking some petty cause of quarrel, he
Made war upon her land (the land in which
Eurytus, as the herald said, was King)
And slew the prince her sire and sacked the town.
Now, as thou see’st, he comes and sends before him
The maiden, with set purpose, to his house,
Not as a slave—how could he so intend,
Seeing his heart is kindled with love’s fire?
So I determined, Queen, to tell thee all
I had heard from Lichas; many heard it too
Who stood with me in the Trachinian throng,
And can convict him. If my words give pain,
It grieves me, but, alas, they are too true.
Ah me unhappy! in what plight I stand!
What bane have I received beneath my roof,
Unwitting, for my ruin! Is she then
A nameless maid, as he who brought her sware?
Nay, she hath name and fame, a princess born,
Iolè, daughter of King Eurytus;
This girl whose parents Lichas could not tell,
Because, forsooth, he had not questioned her.
A curse on evil doers, most on him
Who by deceit worketh iniquity!
My friends, what shall I do? this latest news
Bewilders me.
Go in and question Lichas;
Perchance, if pressed, he’ll tell thee all the truth.
There’s reason in thy counsel; I will go.
And I—shall I remain, or what would’st thou
That I should do?
Remain, for here he comes
Without my summons, of his own accord.
Lady, what message shall I bear my lord?
Instruct me; I am starting, as thou see’st.
Thou cam’st at leisure, but dost part in haste,
And hast no time for further talk with me.
If thou wouldst question me, I wait thy pleasure.
Say, dost thou reverence the honest truth?
So help me Zeus, I’ll speak what truth I know.
Who is this woman then whom thou hast brought?
Euboean; of her parents I know naught.
Hark, sirrah, look me in the face: dost know
To whom thou speakest?
Who art thou to ask me?
Be pleased to answer, if thou hast the wit.
To my most gracious mistress whom I serve,
Daughter of Oeneus, spouse of Heracles,
Deianira, if I be not blind.
My question’s answered to the point. Thou sayest
She is thy sovereign.
Whom I am bound to serve.
Then tell me what should be thy punishment,
If in thy duty thou art proved to fail.
Fail in my duty? What dark riddle is this?
My words are plain, the riddling speech is thine.
I go; I was a fool to stay for thee.
Depart, but answer one brief question first.
Ask what thou wilt; thou hast a wagging tongue.
That captive whom thou broughtest here—thou know’st
The maid I mean?
I know, and what of her?
Said’st thou not she thou scarce dost know by sight
Was Iolè, the child of Eurytus?
To whom and when? What witness canst thou bring
To vouch for hearing such a tale from me?
Scores of our townsfolk—all the multitude
That heard thee mid the great Trachinian throng.
They may have said so, but the vulgar bruit
Of mere surmise is not strict evidence.
“Surmise,” quotha! Did’st thou not say on oath,
“I am bringing home a bride for Heracles”?
“Bringing a bride?” Dear lady, tell me, pray,
Who is this stranger?
One who heard thy tale
How a whole city fell for love of her,
That ’twas the passion kindled by her eyes,
And not the Lydian queen who sacked the town.
Send him away, good lady; ’tis not wise
To bandy folly with a brain-sick fool.
Nay, by the god, I pray, who hurls his bolts
On Oeta’s wooded heights, hold nothing back;
To no ungenerous woman wilt thou speak,
But one that knows the inconstancy of men,
Who e’en in joys delight not in one kind.
The gamester who would pit himself ’gainst Love
Is ill advised. Love rules at will the gods,
And me—why not then others weak as I?
So were I mad indeed either to blame
My husband stricken with love’s malady,
Or her the partner of his dalliance:
That brings to them no shame or wrong to me.
I have more sense. But if he taught thee thus
To lie, the lesson thou hast learnt is base;
Or if thy fraud is self-taught, thou art like
To prove most cruel, meaning to be kind.
Nay, tell me the whole truth. The name of liar
Is to the free-born man a deadly brand.
And think not that thy lying will not out,
For many heard thy tale and will inform me.
Art thou afraid of me? Thy fears are vain.
’Twould vex me much not to be told the truth;
To know it hurts not. Hath not Heracles
Had loves before (no mortal more than he)
And no one of them ever had harsh word
Or taunt from me; nor shall this maid, howe’er
She dotes, consumed with passion, on my lord.
Nay, my heart bled for pity seeing her
Whose beauty was her bane; poor innocent,
Who brought to wrack and bondage
