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Or how the monster ruthlessly

His mother slew, that he might see

The sanctuary where

, then watched her body reived

Of every limb, and, standing there,

Adjudged her members passing fair.

Ah God! what vile and felon judge

Who could to that dread sight begrudge

One single tear, for so ’tis writ,

He calm looked on, nor wept at it,

But gave command to thither bring

Fair cups of wine, and roystering

Therewith, beheld, with fiend’s delight,

Unmoved, the matricidal rite.

Moreover did he lay a-waste

The body of his sister chaste,

And gave himself to work all crime

That man hath stained since birth of time.

He martyred Seneca, his guide

And mentor, bidding him decide,

With impious oath, the manner he

Would choose to face his agony,

E’en as a devil brimmed with wrath.

Quoth Seneca: ‘Make warm a bath,

Since I must bow me to the pains

Of death, then forthwith ope my veins,

That through the wave my blood may flow

Forth freely, till my spirit go

To that great God from whence it sped:

May he sweet mercy on it shed.’”