Deianira: 'Tis vain to stay one who is bent on death.
It is my will at once to flee the light.
Who dies with Hercules has lived enough.
Nurse: Now by these hoary locks, as suppliant, 925
And by these breasts which suckled thee, I beg:
Abate thy wounded heart's wild threatenings,
Give o'er thy dread resolve for cruel death.
Deianira: Whoe'er persuades the wretched not to die
Is cruel. Death is sometimes punishment, 930
But oft a boon, and brings forgiveness oft.