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The Tragedies of Seneca

The scepter from the hand of mighty Jove;
Though the Doric isle, which trembles with affright
Whene'er the heaving giant turns himself,
Should ease her weight upon the monster's head;
Though in the moon another race of beasts
Should be conceived: yet all of these, I know
Alcides conquered and will conquer still,
Seek'st thou his match? There is none save himself. 85
Then set him on to war against himself;
Let furies from the lowest depths of hell
Be roused and come to aid, their flaming locks
Aglow with maddening fire, their savage hands
The horrid snaky scourges brandishing.
Go now, thou proud one, seek the seats of heaven,
And scorn the lot of men. And dost thou think, 90
O hero brave, that thou hast fled the Styx
And gloomy shades? Here will I show thee hell;
Here will I summon up the goddess dire
Of Discord, deep in darkness thick confined
Far down below the abode of guilty souls.
A cavern huge within a mountain's hold
Is her dark prison. Her will I call forth, 95
And from the deepest realms of Dis bring up
Whate'er thou hast escaped: base Crime shall come;
Impiety that fiercely stains its hands
In kindred blood; the shape of Error too,
And Fury ever armed against itself.
This, this assistance shall my grief employ.
Come then, ye ever-faithful slaves of Dis, 100
Begin your task. Shake high the blazing torch;
And let Megaera lead her dreadful band
Of sisters viperous. With deadly hand
Let her from off the blazing funeral pyre
A burning brand snatch up. Now to your task;
Thus seek revenge for violated Styx:
Distract his heart with madness; let his soul 105
More fiercely burn than that hot fire which glows
On Aetna's forge. But first, that Hercules
May be to madness driven, smitten through