Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/286

268 And the realm of spirits, is reserved for thee." Now will we grieve no more; such end is meet; Thus shall no conqueror of Hercules Survive to tell the tale. Now shall my death Be glorious, illustrious, renowned, And worthy of myself. This final day Will I make famous in the ears of men. Go, cut down all the woods, and Oeta's groves Bring hither, that a mighty funeral pyre May hold great Hercules before he dies. And thee, dear son of Poeas, thee I ask  To do this last, sad office for thy friend, And all the sky illumine with the flames Of Hercules. And now to thee this prayer, This last request, Hyllus, my son, I make: Among my captives is a beauteous maid, Of noble breeding and of royal birth. 'Tis Iole, the child of Eurytus.  Her would I have thee to thy chamber lead With fitting marriage rites; for, stained with blood, Victorious, I robbed her of her home And fatherland; and in return, poor girl, Naught save Alcides have I given her; And he is gone. Then let her soothe her woes In the embrace of him who boasts the blood Of Jove and Hercules. Whatever seed She has conceived of me let her to thee Bring forth. [To Alcmena.] And do thou cease thy plaints, I pray, For me, great mother; thy Alcides lives; And by my might have I my stepdame made To seem but as the concubine of Jove. Whether the story of the night prolonged At Hercules' begetting be the truth, Or whether I was got of mortal sire— Though I be falsely called the son of Jove, I have indeed deserved to be his son; For I have honored him, and to his praise