Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/296

278 Will all the world, heaped on thee, hold thy shade, Or Cerberus avail to keep thee back? When wilt thou batter down the gates of hell, Or to what portals shall thy mother go? Where is the highway that leads down to death? E'en now thou tak'st thy journey to the shades, Which thou wilt ne'er retrace. Why waste the hours In vain complaints? And why, O wretched life, Dost thou endure? Why dost thou cling to day? What Hercules can I again bring forth To Jupiter? What son so great as he Will ever call Alcmena mother? Oh, Too happy thou, my Theban husband, thou Who didst to gloomy Tartara descend While still Alcides lived; at thine approach The infernal deities were filled with fear Of thee, though only the reputed sire Of Hercules. What land will welcome me, Now old and hated by all cruel kings (If any cruel king remains alive)? Oh, woe is me! Whatever orphaned son Laments his sire will strive to seek revenge From me, and I shall be the prey of all. If any young Busiris or the son Of dread Antaeus terrifies the land, His booty shall I be. If anyone Would make reprisal for the Thracian steeds Of bloody Diomede, I shall be given To feed those cruel herds. Juno perchance Will be by passion pricked to seek revenge. Now all her anger will be turned on me; For, though her soul no longer is disturbed Because of Hercules, I still am left, Her hated rival. Ah, what punishment Will she inflict, in fear lest I bring forth Another son! The mighty Hercules Has made my womb a thing of terror still. Where shall Alcmena take herself? What place, What region of the universe will keep,