Deianira
Yes, my heart feels it; I have cause, just cause
Of joy; it bounds to hear my lord returns
Victorious; all within me is alive
To tender sympathy. Yet those, who deep
Resolve the change of fortune, must have fears
Lest he, who triumphs now, may some time know
A sad reverse. E'en now, my friends, my heart
Feels the warm touch of pity, while I see
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These wretched females from their country torn,
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Torn from their parents, in a foreign land
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To exile doom'd; yet these perhaps are sprung
From generous lineage, but must now sustain
A servile life. O Jove, whose guardian pow'r
Averts misfortune, never may I see
My offspring by thy anger thus assail'd;
Or if to sufferings thou hast doom'd them, spare
My anguish, nor inflict them whilst I live!
Such are my fears, these females as I view.
But who amidst this youthful train art thou ?
Ill chance is thine: unmarried is thy state?
Or dost thou feel a mother's grief? Thy mein
Denotes thee virgin, and of noble blood.
Who is this stranger, Lichas? Whence her birth?
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Tell me: my pity most for her is mov'd,
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For she alone shows fortitude of mind.
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Trachiniae. Sophocles. Robert Potter (Translator). London. 1820.