Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/292

274 With these the vile Stymphalian birds lie low; And every other monster which I slew With distant aim. O noble youth, go on In victory, for never 'gainst thy foes Shalt thou send these in vain. Wouldst wish to bring Birds from the very clouds? Down shall they fall, And with them come thine arrows sure of prey. This bow shall never disappoint thy hand. Well has it learned to poise the feathered shaft And send it flying in unerring course. The shafts themselves as well, loosed from the string, Have never failed to find their destined mark. But do thou in return, my only prayer, Bring now the funeral torch and light the pyre. This club," he said, "which never hand but mine Has wielded, shall the flames consume with me. This weapon, only, shall to Hercules Belong. But this, too, thou shouldst have from me If thou couldst bear its weight. But let it serve To aid its master's pyre." Then he required The shaggy spoil of the dire Nemean beast To burn with him. The huge skin hid the pyre. Now all the gazing crowd begin to groan, And tears of woe to fall from every eye. His mother bares her breast in eager grief And smites her body stripped e'en to the loins  For unrestrained lament; then all the gods And Jupiter himself she supplicates, While all the place re-echoes with her shrieks. "Thou dost disgrace the death of Hercules, O mother, check thy tears," Alcides said; "Within thy heart thy woman's grief confine. Why shouldst thou make this day a time of joy For Juno with thy tears? For she, be sure, Rejoices to behold her rival weep. Then this unworthy grief, my mother, check. It is not meet to abuse the breast that nursed, And the womb that bore Alcides." Thus he spake; Then with a dreadful cry, as when he led