Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/198

180 Though timorous of heart, will fight If for their males they fear, while loud Resound the snortings of their wrath. When with love the striped tigers burn, The swarthy Indian cowers in fear. For love the hoar whets his deadly tusks And his huge mouth is white with foam. The African lions toss their manes When love inflames their hearts, and the woods Resound with their savage roars. The monsters of the raging deep, And those great beasts, the elephants, Feel the sway of love; since nature's power Claims everything, and nothing spares. Hate perishes when love commands, And ancient feuds yield to his touch. Why need I more his sway approve, When even stepdames yield to love?

[Enter Nurse from the palace.] Chorus: Speak, nurse, the news thou bring'st. How fares the queen? Do her fierce fires of love know any end? Nurse: I have no hope that such a malady Can be relieved; her maddened passion's flames Will endless burn. A hidden, silent fire Consumes her, and her raging love, though shut Within her heart, is by her face betrayed. Her eyes dart fire; anon, her sunken gaze Avoids the light of day. Her restless soul Can find no pleasure long in anything. Her aimless love allows her limbs no rest. Now, as with dying, tottering steps, she goes, And scarce can hold her nodding head erect; And now lies down to sleep. But, sleepless quite, She spends the night in tears. Now does she bid Me lift her up, and straight to lay her down; To loose her locks, and bind them up again. In restless mood she constantly demands