Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/296

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Will all the world, heaped on thee, hold thy shade, 1770
Or Cerberus avail to keep thee back?
When wilt thou batter down the gates of hell,
Or to what portals shall thy mother go?
Where is the highway that leads down to death?
E'en now thou tak'st thy journey to the shades,
Which thou wilt ne'er retrace. Why waste the hours
In vain complaints? And why, O wretched life, 1775
Dost thou endure? Why dost thou cling to day?
What Hercules can I again bring forth
To Jupiter? What son so great as he
Will ever call Alcmena mother? Oh,
Too happy thou, my Theban husband, thou
Who didst to gloomy Tartara descend
While still Alcides lived; at thine approach 1780
The infernal deities were filled with fear
Of thee, though only the reputed sire
Of Hercules. What land will welcome me,
Now old and hated by all cruel kings
(If any cruel king remains alive)?
Oh, woe is me! Whatever orphaned son
Laments his sire will strive to seek revenge 1785
From me, and I shall be the prey of all.
If any young Busiris or the son
Of dread Antaeus terrifies the land,
His booty shall I be. If anyone
Would make reprisal for the Thracian steeds
Of bloody Diomede, I shall be given 1790
To feed those cruel herds. Juno perchance
Will be by passion pricked to seek revenge.
Now all her anger will be turned on me;
For, though her soul no longer is disturbed
Because of Hercules, I still am left,
Her hated rival. Ah, what punishment
Will she inflict, in fear lest I bring forth 1795
Another son! The mighty Hercules
Has made my womb a thing of terror still.
Where shall Alcmena take herself? What place,
What region of the universe will keep,