Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/82

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Yet him, whom God condemned, who by his sire
Was cast away to die, death also fled
And Delphi's oracle have I fulfilled:
For I with impious hand assailed my sire, 260
And slew him.
[With bitter irony] Yet, for this impiety,
Perchance another act of piety
Will make amends: I killed my father; true,
But still I loved my mother.—Oh, 'tis shame
To mention such a wedlock; yet I will,
And force myself to bear this punishment,
To tell abroad my more than bestial crime,
So strange, that nations stand in dumb amaze, 265
So shameful, that no age will credit it,
That e'en the shameless parricide is shocked:
Into my father's bed I bore my hands
Smeared with my father's blood, and there received
The wages of my crime—a greater crime.
My father's murder was a trivial thing; 270
But, that my sum of crime might be complete,
My mother, to my marriage chamber led,
Conceived—Oh, how could nature e'er endure
A greater crime? And yet, if aught remains,
I have begotten children vile enough
To do this also. I have cast away
The scepter which I won by parricide, 275
And with it other hands are armed for war.
Full well do I my kingdom's fortune know,
That never more shall any gain the throne
Without the sacrifice of kindred blood.
Dire evils doth my father-soul presage,
For even now are sown the baleful seeds
Of future strife; the plighted pact is spurned; 280
One will not yield the throne he hath usurped,
The other claims his right, calls on the gods
To witness of his bond, and, driven from home,
Moves Argos and the towns of Greece to arms.
No light destruction comes to weary Thebes;