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My royal Mistress, I am come the first
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To bear thee tidings, which from all thy fears
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Will set thee free: know then Alcides lives,
And is victorious; to his country's gods
He brings the consecrated spoils of war.
My royal Mistress, I am come the first
180
To bear thee tidings, which from all thy fears
180
Will set thee free: know then Alcides lives,
And is victorious; to his country's gods
He brings the consecrated spoils of war.
Deianira
What dost thou tell me? What import thy words?
What dost thou tell me? What import thy words?
Attendant
To thy warm wish thy husband in his house
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Will soon appear with his victorious force.
To thy warm wish thy husband in his house
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Will soon appear with his victorious force.
Deianira
This information from the citizens
This information from the citizens
Attendant
Received, or from some stranger, dost thou bring?
The herald Lichas in the verdant mead
These things announces loud. I heard, and ran
The first to greet thee with these words of joy,
To win thy favour, and obtain some boon.
Received, or from some stranger, dost thou bring?
The herald Lichas in the verdant mead
These things announces loud. I heard, and ran
The first to greet thee with these words of joy,
To win thy favour, and obtain some boon.
Deianira
Why comes he not, of triumphs if he speaks ?
Why comes he not, of triumphs if he speaks ?
Messenger
That is not easy, Lady; all her sons
Melia pours forth, who eager to inquire
Throng close around him, and retard his steps;
Impatient each the welcome news to learn,
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Till all his ardent wish be gratified,
Suffers him not to pass; hence his delay,
To him unpleasing, grateful to the croud :
But soon thou may'st expect to see him here.
That is not easy, Lady; all her sons
Melia pours forth, who eager to inquire
Throng close around him, and retard his steps;
Impatient each the welcome news to learn,
195
Till all his ardent wish be gratified,
Suffers him not to pass; hence his delay,
To him unpleasing, grateful to the croud :
But soon thou may'st expect to see him here.
Deianira
O Jove, adored on the uncultured mead
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Of Œta, thou, though tedious the delay,
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Hast giv'n us joy. Ye virgins, who abide
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Beneath this royal roof, and you who tread
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With me this court, raise high th' enraptured voice.
200
Of gratulation; for beyond my hopes
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On me a ray of orient brightness beams.
200
In the chaste and secret shrine
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Raise the loud and festive strain,
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Thou, for whom the virgin train
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Bids the nuptial torches shine.
200
Let the spritely youths around
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Catch the sweet entrancing sound,
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And to the golden-quiver'd king,
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To Phœbus, Pæans, joyful Pæans sing.
200
Virgins rise, the raptures share ;
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To Ortygian Dian high
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Swell the voice of harmony:
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Hers the double torch to bear;
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Hers the flying hind to chase
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'Midst the Nymphs of mountain-race:
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I rise sublime; without controul
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Thou reign'st, sweet Pipe, the monarch of my soul.
200
The Thyrsus round with ivy twin'd
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To raptured frenzy swells my mind;
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I long to join the Bacchic train :
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Evoe! Raise th' extatic strain.
200
Now bid farewell, loved queen, to woe:
200
See, in pure streams thy joys begin to flow.
200
O Jove, adored on the uncultured mead
200
Of Œta, thou, though tedious the delay,
200
Hast giv'n us joy. Ye virgins, who abide
200
Beneath this royal roof, and you who tread
200
With me this court, raise high th' enraptured voice.
200
Of gratulation; for beyond my hopes
200
On me a ray of orient brightness beams.
200
In the chaste and secret shrine
200
Raise the loud and festive strain,
200
Thou, for whom the virgin train
200
Bids the nuptial torches shine.
200
Let the spritely youths around
200
Catch the sweet entrancing sound,
200
And to the golden-quiver'd king,
200
To Phœbus, Pæans, joyful Pæans sing.
200
Virgins rise, the raptures share ;
200
To Ortygian Dian high
200
Swell the voice of harmony:
200
Hers the double torch to bear;
200
Hers the flying hind to chase
200
'Midst the Nymphs of mountain-race:
200
I rise sublime; without controul
200
Thou reign'st, sweet Pipe, the monarch of my soul.
200
The Thyrsus round with ivy twin'd
200
To raptured frenzy swells my mind;
200
I long to join the Bacchic train :
200
Evoe! Raise th' extatic strain.
200
Now bid farewell, loved queen, to woe:
200
See, in pure streams thy joys begin to flow.
200
Deianira
STRO.
ANTIS.
EPOD.
Trachiniae. Sophocles. Robert Potter (Translator). London. 1820.