Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/219

Rh The woods of leaves, and now the trees May spread once more their pleasant shade; That now the summer's fervent heat May ripen Ceres' gift, and soon Her strength the Autumn may subdue? But why, though thou dost rule so wide, Though in thy hand the ponderous worlds Are poised, and calmly wheel along Their appointed ways, why dost thou shun The affairs of men and have no care For them? Art not solicitous That good should prosper, and that sin Receive its just deserts? But no: Blind Fortune rules the affairs of men, Dispensing with unthinking hand Her gifts, oft favoring the worst. And so the violent oppress The innocent; and fraud holds sway In highest places. To the hands Of brutish men the rabble most Rejoice to trust their government; The same they honor and they hate, With fickle will. Sad virtue finds Her recompense for righteousness All gone away; and poverty, Relentless, follows innocence; While, deep intrenched in wickedness, The adulterer sits secure, and reigns. O modesty—an empty name! And worth—a glorious cheat! But what would yonder messenger announce, Who comes in haste, with woeful countenance?

[Enter Messenger.] Messenger: O slavery, thou hard and bitter lot, Why must I voice these woes unspeakable? Theseus: Fear not, but boldly tell the worst mischance; For mine a heart not unprepared for grief.