The Trachiniae (Sophocles)
Short summary
Ancient Greece, mythological times. Deianira anxiously awaited her husband's return after fifteen months of absence.
The herald Lichas arrived with news that Heracles was safe and bringing home captive women from his conquest of Oechalia. Among them was IolĂ«, daughter of King Eurytus. Deianira learned that her husband had destroyed the city for love of this maiden. Desperate to win back his affection, she sent Heracles a robe smeared with what she believed was a love charmâblood from the dying Centaur Nessus, who had given it to her years before.
Too late, Deianira discovered the charm was actually deadly poison. The wool she had used to apply it consumed itself before her eyes. Her son Hyllus returned and described how the robe had caused his father unbearable agony.
The poison, tainted with the Hydra's venom, burned through Heracles' flesh. Realizing her terrible mistake, Deianira killed herself with a sword. The dying hero was carried home on a litter. He commanded Hyllus to build a funeral pyre on Mount Oeta and burn him alive to end his suffering, and to marry Iolë afterward.
We are blameless, but confess That the gods are pitiless. Children they beget, and claim Worship in a father's name, Yet with apathetic eye Look upon such agony.
Detailed summary
Division into sections is editorial.
Deianiras anxiety and the prophecy; Hyllus sent to find Heracles
Before the house of Heracles at Trachis, his wife stood troubled and afraid. She reflected on an ancient saying:
There is an old-world saying current still, "Of no man canst thou judge the destiny To call it good or evil, till he die."
She knew her own lot was hard and sad. Even in childhood at Pleuron with her father Oeneus, she had dreaded marriage more than any other Aetolian maiden, for her first suitor was the river god Achelous, who appeared in triple formâas a bull, as a serpent, and as a man with an ox's head, with fountain water spouting from his beard. She prayed for death rather than such a marriage bed. Then the son of Zeus and Alcmena came and fought the monster, delivering her.
Since sharing his home, her cares never ceased. Terror followed terror, and one night's trouble drove out the last. Children were born to them, but he saw them only at seedtime and harvest. Now that he had overcome many toils, she was most terror-stricken. Since he slew Iphitus, they had been dwelling in Trachis as exiles. Fifteen months had passed without word. Some dread calamity had befallen him, as signified by a tablet he left. He had told her that when this time passed, he must either die or live ever after an untroubled life. This very day, the prophecy would be confirmed.
Her attendant advised her to send one of her sons to search for his father. At that moment, the young man approached.
The young man revealed he had heard rumorsâlast season his father served as bondsman to a Lydian woman, but that disgrace was over. Now he was reported to be warring against Euboea and King Eurytus. Deianira told him of the oracles concerning that landâthat either her husband would find his death there, or having achieved this final task, would lead an unbroken life of peaceful ease. The son agreed and departed to learn the truth.
Victory news and arrival of captive women including Iole
A chorus of Trachinian maidens entered and sang to comfort Deianira, reminding her that Zeus never forgot his own. A stranger arrived with news. He announced that Alcmena's son was living, victorious over his foes, bringing home spoils. Deianira asked who told him this. The stranger said the herald was proclaiming it in the summer pastures to the crowd. She asked why the herald did not come himself. The stranger explained that all the Malian folk clustered around him, plying him with questions. But she would see him face to face soon.
Deianira rejoiced, calling on Zeus. Women lifted their voices in triumph. The chorus sang hymns to Apollo and Artemis. Deianira saw the herald's company approaching. The herald entered with captive women. Deianira greeted him, asking if she would embrace her husband alive. He assured her he left him both alive and hale. He was upon a headland in Euboea, marking out altars to Cenaean Zeus. This was for a vow he made when he went forth to conquer and despoil Oechalia of these women she saw. Deianira asked who the captives were. He said the hero chose them for himself and for the gods when he sacked the town of Eurytus.
Deianira asked if taking that city caused his long delay. The herald explained that most of that time he was detained in Lydia, sold in bondage to the barbarous queen Omphalë. Once purged, he enlisted an alien host and marched against the city of Eurytus, for Eurytus alone he deemed the guilty cause. When the hero came as a guest to one bound by ancient friendship, Eurytus assailed him with bitter taunts, saying his sons surpassed him in archery, calling him a slave. Once at a banquet he cast him forth when in his cups. Incensed, when encountering Iphitus upon the hill of Tiryns in pursuit of strayed mares, the hero hurled him from the craggy battlements. This deed provoked Zeus, who drove him forth to be sold. So all those braggarts lay low in Hades and their town was enslaved, and these women were delivered to Deianira's hands.
The truth about Iole and the sack of Oechalia revealed
A strange pity came over Deianira at sight of these poor wretches. She addressed one maiden in particular, asking who she was. To judge by her looks, she had full warrant of virginity and of high birth. The herald said he did not know, had not questioned her at length. Deianira asked if he had learned her name from her companions. He said no, he had his work to do. She asked the maiden to speak and tell who she was. The herald said that if she opened her lips now, it would be unlike her former self, for hitherto she had not uttered word or syllable but wept continually. Deianira told him to leave her in peace and let her pass within, that she would not add another pain to her present ones.
The messenger stopped Deianira before she could go, saying she should learn in private who these were whom she welcomed beneath her roof. He had full cognizance of matters still untold. The herald had not spoken the straightforward truth. Either now he was false, or before he was no true messenger. The messenger had heard the man declare, with many witnesses present, that it was for this maiden's sake that the hero laid prostrate Oechalia's battlements and Eurytus. Love was his leader, love alone inspired this doughty deed, not his base servitude under Omphalë. 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 and slew the prince her sire and sacked the town. Now he sent the maiden with set purpose to his house, not as a slave but as his bride. Many heard this tale in the Trachinian throng and could convict the herald.
Deianira asked what bane she had received beneath her roof unwitting. Was the maiden nameless, as the herald swore? The messenger said no, she had name and fame, a princess bornâIolĂ«, daughter of King Eurytus. Deianira decided to go in and question the herald. Perhaps if pressed, he would tell her all the truth.
Deianira sends the poisoned robe and discovers her fatal error
The herald reentered, and Deianira confronted him. When pressed, he admitted the truth. The overmastering passion that inspired the hero's soul was for this maid, and for her sake he sacked Oechalia. He himself had feared to wound Deianira and so concealed it. Now that she knew the tale in full, for both their sakes, she should suffer this maiden gladly. For he who never yielded to a foe was vanquished by her and by love laid low. Deianira said she would not aggravate her trouble by warring against Heaven. She told him to come indoors, that he might bear a message to her lord and receive a gift in return.
The chorus sang of the power of the Cyprian goddess. While the herald was inside, Deianira stole forth to speak with the chorus alone. She told them what her hands had wrought. This maidâno maiden but mistress nowâshe had harbored to wreck her peace of mind.
And now we twain must share a common couch... She's the budding rose, And I o'erblown and withering on the thorn. Men cull the flower and when the bloom has fled Fling it far from them.
But she had a better way to ease her pain. Stored in an urn of brass she long had kept a keepsake of the old-world monster. The shaggy-breasted centaur gave it to her while yet a girl, from his wounded side as he lay at point of death. He ferried wayfarers for hire across the deep Evenus in his arms. When first she went with her husband as a bride, she too was borne on his broad shoulders, and in mid-stream he touched her with wanton hands. She shrieked aloud. The son of Zeus turned and let fly a winged shaft that pierced to the centaur's lungs.
Faint with approaching death, the centaur spoke:
Gather with thy hands The clotted gore... Thus shalt thou have a charm to bind the heart Of Heracles, and never shall he look On wife or maid to love her more than thee.
She bethought herself of this philtre, which since the centaur's death she had preserved locked in a secret place, and she smeared this robe as he directed. She had no desire to learn evil witch-craft, but she hoped by love-charms to win again her husband. The chorus thought she had counseled not amiss if she had warranty her charm would work. She had no warrant, for she had not tried it yet. The herald was just starting. She instructed him to give the robe to her lord, telling him that he and none before him must put it on, and let no sunlight nor altar flame behold it till he stood forth arrayed for gods to see. She had vowed to invest him in this newly-woven robe. The herald departed with the casket.
Hyllus reports Heracles agony; Deianiras suicide
Deianira returned, troubled. She feared she had been over bold. A thing had come to pass so strange that if she told it, the chorus would deem they heard a miracle. The flock of wool wherewith she smeared the festal robe had disappeared, untouched by aught within the house, but self-consumed it wasted, melting on the flags away.
The flock of wool... has disappeared, untouched By aught within the house, but self-consumed It wasted, melting on the flags, away... clotted froth upwelled, As when the spilth of Bacchus...
She saw a fearful thing she had done. Why should the dying centaur have shown regard for her, the author of his death? Impossibleâno, he was cozening her, and sought through her his slayer to undo. Too late, when knowledge naught availed, her eyes were opened. She alone was doomed to slay her lord. She knew the shaft that slew the centaur scathed even Cheiron, though a god. So the black venomed gore must slay likewise her lord. She was resolved, if fall he must, the selfsame stroke of fate should end her days.
Only the woman who by trial knows The cares of wedlock knows what I endure... what woman noble born would dare live on Dishonoured when her fair repute is gone?
Hyllus returned and denounced his mother as a murderer. He told her she had done to death her husband this very day. He had seen his father's anguish with his own eyes. He described how his father had sacked the town of Eurytus and reached Cenaeum. Hyllus first met him there. The hero stood addressed to offer sacrifice. The herald came bringing the fatal robe. He put it on according to her precept. At first with joyous air serene, proud of the glory of his robe, he prayed. But when the blood-red flame began to blaze, a sweat broke out upon him, and the coat stuck to his side, glued to every limb.
A sweat broke out upon him; and the coat Stuck to his side... A pricking pain began to rack his bones. Soon the fell venom of the hydra dire Worked inward and devoured him.
He called for the herald, demanding who hatched the plot. The youth unwitting said it was her gift. While yet he listened, a convulsive spasm shot through his lungs. He caught the herald by the foot and hurled him full against a rock. His skull was crushed to fragments. A cry of horror arose. No man dared face him, for the pain now dragged him down, now made him leap in air. When his agony had spent itself, he wildly gazed and spied Hyllus weeping. He fixed his eye on him and spoke, bidding him bear him hence. Hyllus and others laid him on a ship's deck in torment. Such was the evil against his sire that she had planned and wrought. May Vengeance visit her, Hyllus prayed.
Deianira departed silently. The chorus asked why she stole away thus. Such silence was eloquent of guilt. Hyllus said to let her depart. The chorus sang of the prophecy fulfilled. They lamented that their ill-starred queen, all innocent, knew naught, only seeking to void the curse of a new bride. The nurse entered from the house with grave news. Deianira had departed hence on her last journey. She was dead, slain by her own hand, by the stroke of a dolorous sword. The nurse had seen it. Deianira went indoors alone and came upon her son preparing a litter to bear his sire back. Seeing him she fled, crouching by the altar, groaning aloud. She fingered each familiar chattel tenderly and wept. Then she sped within the bed chamber. The nurse watched and saw her snatch a coverpane and fling it on the bed. She leapt upon it, sat down, and loosed the floodgate of hot tears, speaking a last farewell to her bridal bed. With a sudden wrench she tore the brooch above her breast and laid her left arm and her side all bare. The nurse ran to warn the son. In that brief space, she had driven a two-edged sword home through the midriff to the very heart. Hyllus saw and shrieked heart-stricken, knowing his wrath had goaded her to death. All too late he learned that she in utter innocence had done according to the centaur's word. He mourned for her, crying that by his foul slander he had stricken her, and now was bereaved of both father and mother in one day.
Heracles brought home dying and in torment
The chorus sang in dread, wishing a gale might waft them out of sight. A foreign train appeared, moving with muffled tread. Hyllus and attendants entered bearing the hero on a litter. Hyllus cried out in woe for his father. An elderly attendant hushed him, lest he awake the intolerable ache. The hero lived, though nigh to death. The hero stirred, asking where he was, who these strangers standing by were. The foul fiend gnawed anew. The attendant had bid the son keep silence. But Hyllus could not refrain at sight of such grim pain.
The hero cursed the altar on Cenaean height. Would that his eyes had never seen that altar-stair. Where was the charmer, where the leech whose art a remedy could teach, save Zeus alone? He begged them to leave him, let him lie in his last agony. They must not touch him, lest they wake the slumbering ache. Once more it had him in its grip. He cried out to the Greeks. For them he labored hugely to free their land from ravening beasts and monsters of the sea, and now in long drawn agony they left him to expire. Would none deliver him with sword or kindly fire? Would God that he were dead. The attendant asked Hyllus to help him. Hyllus said that will he would, but nor the attendant nor he could rid him of the pain. Such doom the gods ordained.
The hero called for his son to raise him. Once more the pest leaped upon him. He called on Pallas to save him, begged his son to pierce his heart, cure the wild pain he endured from his impious mother. He called on Death to lay him to rest. The chorus shuddered to hear this woeful plaint. The hero reflected on many grievous toils. Yet trial like to this was never set him by Heaven's Queen or grim Eurystheus's hate, such as the child of Oeneus had fastened on his back, this hellish net she wove to snare him. It hugged him close, ate into his flesh, sucked the channels of his breath, drained his life-blood. This fall no warrior's lance had wrought, nor Giant's earth-born brood, nor savage beast, nor Grecian nor barbarian.
No, but a woman, weak as all her sex, Hath quelled me, single-handed and unarmed... So none can boast to have seen me... till now I took whate'er befell me with a smile.
He told his son to show himself his father's son in deed. He must hale her himself, hand her himself to him, that when she met her righteous doom he might make trial which sight moved him more. For pity's sake he should not shrink. He bade his son come closer, see to what a pass ill fate had brought his sire. He would lift the veil. All should look on this poor maimed body. Again the deadly spasm shot and burned through all his vitals. Would it never end? He called on the Lord of the Dead to receive him, begged Zeus to smite him with his bolt. Again it burgeoned, blazed forth. He addressed his hands, arms, breast and shoulders, once all puissantâwere they the same whose thews of old subdued the Nemean lion? They slew the Lernaean hydra, overcame that twy-form multitude half man half horse, and the Erymanthian boar. They tamed the monstrous whelp of dread Echidna, the three-headed hound of Hades, and the dragon-guard who watched the golden apples. These were his toils and others manifold. Now out of joint, a thing of shreds he lay, baffled by hands invisible. But of one thing he was sureâthough he was naught and could not stir a step, yet even thus he was a match for her who wrought his woe. Let her but come that she might learn of him this lesson, that he living and dying chastened all that was vile.
Heracles final commands and preparation for death
Hyllus said that since his father's silence seemed to invite an answer, he would speak. He asked only what was fairâthat his father be again his true self, not by pain and rage distraught. The hero said he was too sick to catch the drift of all his riddling words. Hyllus said it was of his mother he would tellâhow she fared and how unwittingly she sinned. The hero cried out, asking if the shameless reprobate dared name his father's murderess to him. Hyllus said her case was such that silence were unmeet. The hero said unmeet in truth because of her past crimes. Hyllus said and of her deeds this day. The hero feared his speech would prove him base. Hyllus told him to hearâshe was dead, slain but an hour ago. The hero asked by whom. Hyllus said by her own hand. The hero cried out that she had baulked his just revenge. Hyllus said even he would soften if he knew all. The hero called this a wondrous prologue. Hyllus said the sum was thisâshe erred with good intent. The hero asked if it was good to slay his sire. Hyllus explained that when she saw his new bride, she devised a charm to win him back but was misled. The hero asked if Trachis boasted a wizard of such might. Hyllus said the centaur Nessus taught her long ago how to enkindle in his heart love's flame.
The hero cried out that he was undone. The light of day had left him. Now he saw in what extremity of fate he stood. He told his son to go summon his brethren, summon too Alcmena, that from his dying lips they all might learn what oracles he knew. Hyllus said he could not call his mother, for she at Tiryns far hence abode. Of his children some she took to live with her, others at Thebes were lodged. But all of them here present would obey his behest. The hero told him to listen and heed. Now was the hour to prove his breed. It was foreshown by his sire that he should perish by no living wight but by a dweller in the realms of Death. So by this centaur beast he perished, he the living by the dead. A later oracle met and confirmed the ancient prophecy. In the grove whose priests made the earth their bed, he heard it breathed by his Father's oak. He heard it and wrote it down, his present doom, now at this living moment brought to pass. Release it promised from his toils, and he augured a happy life, but it meant death, for with the dead there could be no more toil. Since then his weird thus plainly came to pass, his son must do his part and lend his aid. He must not delay but aid with a will as one who knew the golden rule, a father to obey.
Hyllus said that though the issue gave him pause, he would obey. The hero said well said, but first he must lay his right hand in his father's. Hyllus asked wherefore impose on him this needless pledge. The hero said his hand at onceâobey and argue not. Hyllus gave his hand. The hero told him to swear by the head of Zeus his Father. Hyllus asked what he would have him swear. The hero said swear to perform the task he enjoined. Hyllus said he would and took the oath. The hero added thereto the curse on perjurers. Hyllus said no need, for he would keep it. The hero asked if he knew the peak of Oeta, shrine of Zeus. Hyllus said yes, he had climbed it oft to sacrifice. The hero said thither he himself, with what friends he willed, must carry him. From the deep-rooted oak he must lop many a branch and many a faggot hew from the wild-olive's lusty stock and lay him upon the pyre. He must kindle a torch of pine and fire it. Not a tear or wail or moan. Unweeping, unlamenting must he do his part and prove he was indeed his son. Fail, and his ghost would haunt him evermore.
Hyllus cried out asking if his father could mean it. The hero said he had his charge. If he refused it, he must get another sire. Hyllus lamented, asking what his father askedâthat he should be his murderer, a parricide. The hero said not so, but healer of his sufferings, the one physician that could cure his pains. Hyllus asked how he could heal his stricken frame by fire. The hero said well, if he shrank from this, he must perform the rest. Hyllus said the task of bearing him he would not grudge. The hero asked nor yet to heap the pyre as he had bid. Hyllus said so that he light it not with his own handsâall else he would perform. The hero said that would suffice. But he must add one other boon, a little one, to crown the great ones given. Hyllus said it would be granted. The hero said he knew the maiden, child of Eurytus. Hyllus said he thought he meant IolĂ«. The hero said none else. This was his charge concerning her. When he was dead, if he would keep the oath he swore, he must take her to wife, let not another have her who by his side had lain. But hers, his son'sâhis let her be, joined in the marriage bond. Much had he granted, to refuse one more would cancel all the score.
Hyllus said it was ill to quarrel with one sick, but who could bear to see him in this mind. The hero said his murmuring augured disobedience. Hyllus asked what, take her, the sole cause of his mother's death and worse, the cause of this his grievous plight. Who, were he not possessed of fiends, would do it? Better he with his father should die than live united with their direst foe. The hero said the boy was not inclined to heed a father's dying prayer, but heaven's curse awaited full sure a disobedient son. Hyllus said he feared his frenzy soon would show itself. The hero said yes, for he wakened his pain that slept. Hyllus cried out what a coil of dread perplexities. The hero said because he would not deign to heed his sire. Hyllus asked what, must he learn impiety from him. The hero said it was piety to glad a father's heart. Hyllus asked if he had his warrant then. The hero said he called the gods to witness it was just. Hyllus said then he consented. Let heaven attest this act of his father's, for he could not be blamed for filial piety. The hero said he ended well. Now he must crown his gracious words with actionâhaste and lay him on the pyre before the spasms returned. He told attendants to haste and lift him. Thus he found repose, the end and consummation of his woes.
Hyllus said since his father straitly commanded this, naught hindered the fulfillment of his will. The hero told his stubborn heart to rouse, arm itself, before again the plague upstart. He must set on his lips a curb of steel. He must go meet his doom without a cry, a victim happy thus to die. Hyllus told the men to lift him, nor take amiss that he bore a part in this. They were blameless, but confessed that the gods were pitiless. Children they begot and claimed worship in a father's name, yet with apathetic eye looked upon such agony. What was yet to be none knew, but the present was fraught with woes, woes for them, for the gods deep shame. And of all beneath the sun worse than he had suffered none. He told the maidens to come away. Horrors they had seen this day, dire death and direr fall, and Zeus had wrought it all.