Victorious and safe.
Hyllus: Give o'er, I pray,
My mother; cease to blame thy guiltless fates.
Thy deed was but an error, not a fault.
Deianira: My son, if thou wouldst truly filial be,
Come, slay thy mother. Why with trembling hand985
Dost thou stand there? Why turn away thy face?
Such crime as this is truest piety.
Still dost thou lack incentive for the deed?
Behold, this hand took Hercules from thee,