Metamorphoses IX.113-225
Though Hercules wins the hand of Deianira, his rival gets his own terrible revenge.
mox, ut erat, pharetraque gravis spolioque leonis—
nam clavam et curvos trans ripam miserat arcus—
‘quandoquidem coepi, superentur flumina’ dixit, 115
nec dubitat nec, qua sit clementissimus amnis,
quaerit, et obsequio deferri spernit aquarum.
iamque tenens ripam, missos cum tolleret arcus,
coniugis agnovit vocem Nessoque paranti
fallere depositum ‘quo te fiducia’ clamat 120
‘vana pedum, violente, rapit? tibi, Nesse biformis,
dicimus. exaudi, nec res intercipe nostras.
si te nulla mei reverentia movit, at orbes
concubitus vetitos poterant inhibere paterni.
haud tamen effugies, quamvis ope fidis equina; 125
vulnere, non pedibus te consequar.’ ultima dicta
re probat, et missa fugientia terga sagitta
traicit. exstabat ferrum de pectore aduncum.
quod simul evulsum est, sanguis per utrumque foramen
emicuit mixtus Lernaei tabe veneni. 130
excipit hunc Nessus ‘ne’ que enim ‘moriemur
inulti’ secum ait, et calido velamina tincta cruore
dat munus raptae velut inritamen amoris.
Longa fuit medii mora temporis, actaque magni
Herculis inplerant terras odiumque novercae. 135
victor ab Oechalia Cenaeo sacra parabat
vota Iovi, cum Fama loquax praecessit ad aures,
Deianira, tuas, quae veris addere falsa
gaudet, et e minimo sua per mendacia crescit,
Amphitryoniaden Ioles ardore teneri. 140
credit amans, venerisque novae perterrita fama
indulsit primo lacrimis, flendoque dolorem
diffudit miseranda suum. mox deinde ‘quid autem
flemus?’ ait ‘paelex lacrimis laetabitur istis.
quae quoniam adveniet, properandum aliquidque novandum est, 145
dum licet, et nondum thalamos tenet altera nostros.
conquerar, an sileam? repetam Calydona, morerne?
excedam tectis? an, si nihil amplius, obstem?
quid si me, Meleagre, tuam memor esse sororem
forte paro facinus, quantumque iniuria possit 150
femineusque dolor, iugulata paelice testor?’
in cursus animus varios abit. omnibus illis
praetulit inbutam Nesseo sanguine vestem
mittere, quae vires defecto reddat amori,
ignaroque Lichae, quid tradat, nescia, luctus 155
ipsa suos tradit blandisque miserrima verbis,
dona det illa viro, mandat. capit inscius heros,
induiturque umeris Lernaeae virus echidnae.
Tura dabat primis et verba precantia flammis,
vinaque marmoreas patera fundebat in aras: 160
incaluit vis illa mali, resolutaque flammis
Herculeos abiit late dilapsa per artus.
dum potuit, solita gemitum virtute repressit.
victa malis postquam est patientia, reppulit aras,
inplevitque suis nemorosam vocibus Oeten. 165
nec mora, letiferam conatur scindere vestem:
qua trahitur, trahit illa cutem, foedumque relatu,
aut haeret membris frustra temptata revelli,
aut laceros artus et grandia detegit ossa.
ipse cruor, gelido ceu quondam lammina candens 170
tincta lacu, stridit coquiturque ardente veneno.
nec modus est, sorbent avidae praecordia flammae,
caeruleusque fluit toto de corpore sudor,
ambustique sonant nervi, caecaque medullis
tabe liquefactis tollens ad sidera palmas 175
‘cladibus,’ exclamat ‘Saturnia, pascere nostris:
pascere, et hanc pestem specta, crudelis, ab alto,
corque ferum satia. vel si miserandus et hosti,
hoc est, si tibi sum, diris cruciatibus aegram
invisamque animam natamque laboribus aufer. 180
mors mihi munus erit; decet haec dare dona novercam.
ergo ego foedantem peregrino templa cruore
Busirin domui? saevoque alimenta parentis
Antaeo eripui? nec me pastoris Hiberi
forma triplex, nec forma triplex tua, Cerbere, movit? 185
vosne, manus, validi pressistis cornua tauri?
vestrum opus Elis habet, vestrum Stymphalides undae,
Partheniumque nemus? vestra virtute relatus
Thermodontiaco caelatus balteus auro,
pomaque ab insomni concustodita dracone? 190
nec mihi centauri potuere resistere, nec mi
Arcadiae vastator aper? nec profuit hydrae
crescere per damnum geminasque resumere vires?
quid, cum Thracis equos humano sanguine pingues
plenaque corporibus laceris praesepia vidi, 195
visaque deieci, dominumque ipsosque peremi?
his elisa iacet moles Nemeaea lacertis:
hac caelum cervice tuli. defessa iubendo est
saeva Iovis coniunx: ego sum indefessus agendo.
sed nova pestis adest, cui nec virtute resisti 200
nec telis armisque potest. pulmonibus errat
ignis edax imis, perque omnes pascitur artus.
at valet Eurystheus! et sunt, qui credere possint
esse deos?’ dixit, perque altam saucius Oeten
haud aliter graditur, quam si venabula taurus 205
corpore fixa gerat, factique refugerit auctor.
saepe illum gemitus edentem, saepe frementem,
saepe retemptantem totas infringere vestes
sternentemque trabes irascentemque videres
montibus aut patrio tendentem bracchia caelo. 210
Ecce Lichan trepidum latitantem rupe cavata
aspicit, utque dolor rabiem conlegerat omnem,
‘tune, Licha,’ dixit ‘feralia dona dedisti?
tune meae necis auctor eris?’ tremit ille, pavetque
pallidus, et timide verba excusantia dicit. 215
dicentem genibusque manus adhibere parantem
corripit Alcides, et terque quaterque rotatum
mittit in Euboicas tormento fortius undas.
ille per aerias pendens induruit auras:
utque ferunt imbres gelidis concrescere ventis, 220
inde nives fieri, nivibus quoque molle rotatis
astringi et spissa glomerari grandine corpus,
sic illum validis iactum per inane lacertis
exsanguemque metu nec quicquam umoris habentem
in rigidos versum silices prior edidit aetas. 225
At once, just as he was, burdened with his quiver and the lion’s skin (for he had tossed his club and curving bow across to the other bank), the hero said: “Since I have undertaken it, these waters shall be overcome.” And in he plunged; nor did he seek out where the stream was easiest, and scorned to take advantage of the smoother waters. And now he had just gained the other bank, and was picking up his bow which he had thrown across, when he heard his wife’s voice calling; and to Nessus, who was in act to betray his trust, he shouted: “Where is your vain confidence in your fleetness carrying you, you ravisher? To you, two-formed Nessus, I am talking: listen, and do not dare come between me and mine. If no fear of me has weight with you, at least your father’s1 whirling wheel should prevent the outrage you intend. You shall not escape, however much you trust in your horse’s fleetness. With my deadly wound, if not with my feet, I shall overtake you.” Suiting the action to his last words, he shot an arrow straight into the back of the fleeing centaur. The barbed point protruded from his breast. This he tore out, and spurting forth from both wounds came the blood mixed with the deadly poison of the Lernaean hydra. Nessus caught this, and muttering, “I shall not die unavenged,” he gave his tunic, soaked with his blood, to Deianira as a gift, potent to revive waning love.
Meanwhile, long years had passed; the deeds of the mighty Hercules had filled the earth and had sated his stepmother’s hate. Returning victorious from Oechalia, he was preparing to pay his vows to Jove at Cenaeum, when tattling Rumour came on ahead to your ears, Deianira, Rumour, who loves to mingle false and true and, though very small at first, grows huge through lying, and she reported that the son of Amphitryon2 was enthralled by love of Iole.3 The loving wife believes the tale, and completely overcome by the report of this new love, she indulges her tears at first and, poor creature, pours out her grief in a flood of weeping. But soon she says: “Why do I weep? My rival will rejoice at my tears. But since she is on her way hither I must make haste and devise some plan while I may, and while as yet another woman has not usurped my couch. Shall I complain or shall I grieve in silence? Shall I go back to Calydon or tarry here? Shall I leave my house or, if I can nothing more, stay and oppose her? What if, O Meleager, remembering that I am your sister, I make bold to plan some dreadful deed, and by killing my rival prove how much a woman’s humiliation and grief can do?” Her mind is divided between various courses; but to all other plans she prefers to send to her husband the tunic soaked in Nessus’ blood, in the hope that this may revive her husband’s failing love; and to Lichas, ignorant of what he bears, with her own hands she all unwittingly commits the cause of her future woe, and with honeyed words the unhappy woman bids him take this present to her lord. The hero innocently received the gift and put on his shoulders the tunic soaked in the Lernaean hydra’s poison.
He was offering incense and prayers amid the kindling flames and pouring wine from the libation bowl upon the marble altar: then was the virulence of that pest aroused and, freed by the heat, went stealing throughout the frame of Hercules. While he could, with his habitual manly courage he held back his groans. But when his endurance was conquered by his pain, he overthrew the altar and filled woody Oeta with his cries. At once he tries to tear off the deadly tunic; but where it is torn away, it tears the skin with it and, ghastly to relate, it either sticks to his limbs, from which he vainly tries to tear it, or else lays bare his torn muscles and huge bones. His very blood hisses and boils with the burning poison, as when a piece of red-hot metal is plunged into a pool. Without limit the greedy flames devour his vitals; the dark sweat pours from his whole body; his burnt sinews crackle and, while his very marrow melts with the hidden, deadly fire, he stretches suppliant hands to heaven and cries: “Come, feast, Saturnia,4 upon my destruction; feast, I say; look down, thou cruel one, from thy lofty seat, behold my miserable end, and glut thy savage heart! Or, if I merit pity even from my enemy—that is, from thee—take hence this hateful life, sick with its cruel sufferings and born for toil. Death will be a boon to me, surely a fitting boon for a stepmother to bestow! Was it for this I slew Busiris, who defiled his temples with strangers’ blood? that I deprived the dread Antaeus of his mother’s strength? that I did not fear the Spanish shepherd’s5 triple form, nor thy triple form, O Cerberus? Was it for this, O hands, that you broke the strong bull’s horns? that Elis knows your toil, the waves of Stymphalus, the Parthenian woods? that by your prowess the gold-wrought girdle of Thermodon was secured, and that fruit guarded by the dragon’s sleepless eyes? Was it for this that the centaurs could not prevail against me, nor the boar that wasted Arcady? that it did not avail the hydra to grow by loss and gain redoubled strength? What, when I saw the Thracian’s horses fat with human blood and those mangers full of mangled corpses and, seeing, threw them down and slew the master6 and the steeds themselves? By these arms the monster of Nemea lies crushed; upon this neck I upheld the sky! The cruel wife of Jove is weary of imposing toils; but I am not yet weary of performing them. But now a strange and deadly thing is at me, which neither by strength can I resist, nor yet by weapons nor by arms. Deep through my lungs steals the devouring fire, and feeds through all my frame. But Eurystheus is alive and well! And are there those who can believe that there are gods?” He spoke and in sore distress went ranging along high Oeta; just as a bull carries about the shaft that has pierced his body, though the giver of the wound has fled. See him there on the mountains oft uttering heartrending groans, oft roaring in agony, oft struggling to tear off his garments, uprooting great trunks of trees, stretching out his arms to his native skies.
Of a sudden he caught sight of Lichas cowering with fear in hiding beneath a hollow rock, and with all the accumulated rage of suffering he cried: “Was it you, Lichas, who brought this fatal gift? And shall you be called the author of my death?” The young man trembled, grew pale with fear, and timidly attempted to excuse his act. But while he was yet speaking and striving to clasp the hero’s knees, Alcides caught him up and, whirling him thrice and again about his head, he hurled him far out into the Euboean sea, like a missile from a catapult. The youth stiffened as he yet hung in air; and as drops of rain are said to congeal beneath the chilling blast and change to snow, then whirling snowflakes condense to a soft mass and finally are packed in frozen hail: so, hurled by strong arms through the empty air, bloodless with fear, his vital moisture dried, he changed, old tradition says, to flinty rock.
i.e. Ixion, who also had been guilty of an outrage for which he suffered his well-known punishment in Hades.
The husband of Alcmena and putative father of Hercules.
The daughter of Eurytus, king of Oechalia.
Juno.
Geryon.
Diomedes.