Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/178

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Let me be bound upon the Caspian rocks,
And let the birds of prey devour my flesh.
Why lacks Prometheus' cliff a prisoner?
Prepare for me the bare, steep mountain side
Of Caucasus, that, on his towering peak,
The birds and beasts of prey may feed on me.
Or let the blue Symplegades, which hedge 1210
The Scythian deep, stretch out my fettered hands
This way and that; and, when with rhythmic change
The rocks together clash, which fling to heaven
The sea that lies between the rushing cliffs,
May I lie there, the mountains' restless check. 1215
Or why not heap a mighty pyre of wood,
And burn my body stained with impious blood?
Thus, thus it must be done; so Hercules
Shall to the lower world return again.
Amphitr.: Not yet has madness ceased to vex his heart.
But now his wrath has changed, and, fury's sign, 1220
He rages 'gainst himself.
Hercules: ⁠Ye dire abodes
Of fiends, ye prison-house of damnéd shades,
Ye regions set apart for guilty throngs,
If any place of exile lie beyond
Deep Erebus, unknown to Cerberus
And me, there hide ye me. I'll go and dwell 1225
Upon the farthest bound of Tartarus.
O heart, too hard! Who worthily will weep
For you, my children, scattered through my house?
This face, woe-hardened, knows not how to weep.
Bring me my sword, and give me here my darts, 1230
My mighty club.
⁠[He addresses the four corpses in order.]
⁠For thee, poor murdered boy,
I'll break my shafts; for thee my mighty bow
Shall be asunder riven; to thy shades
My heavy club shall burn; and on thy pyre
My quiver, full of venomed darts, shall lie.
My arms shall pay their penalty for sin. 1235
You, too, my guilty hands, with these shall burn,