Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/243

Rh Unbearded yet, thy boyish veins Not yet with manhood's vigor filled? But why do I bewail your fates, O parents, whom to safety now Kind death has borne? My fortune bids That I bewail myself instead. Soon, ah too soon, in captive state, Shall I the flying spindle turn For some proud mistress in her hall. cruel beauty, how hast thou Decreed my death! For thee alone Am I and all my house undone, Since when my sire to Hercules Refused my hand, because he feared Great Hercules as son-in-law. And now, not wife, but captive maid, I seek my haughty mistress' home. Chorus: Why dost thou, foolish, ever dwell Upon thy sire's illustrious realm, And on thy own unhappy fate? Forget thy former station now; For only is he happy who, As king or slave, knows how to bear His lot, and fit his countenance To changing circumstance. For he Who bears his ills with steadfast soul Has from misfortune reft away Its strength and heaviness.

[In the palace of Deianira at Trachin.]

Nurse of Deianira: Oh, bitter is the rage a woman feels, When in one house both wife and mistress dwell! No wrecking Scylla, no Charybdis dire, The wild upheavers of Sicilia's waves, No savage beast, is more untamed than she. For when the maiden's beauty was revealed, And Iole shone like the cloudless sky, Or gleaming stars within the heavens serene,