Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/346

328 This I, a brother, from a brother ask: That I may bury them. Restore my sons, And thou shall see their corpses burned at once. The father begs for naught that he may keep, But utterly destroy. Atreus: Thou hast thy sons, Whate'er of them remains; thou also hast Whate'er does not remain. Thyestes: What hast thou done? Hast fed them to the savage, greedy birds? Have beasts of prey devoured their tender flesh? Atreus: Thou has I thyself that impious banquet made. Thyestes: Oh, then, 'twas this that shamed the gods of heaven, And drove the day in horror back to dawn! Ah me, what cries shall voice, what plaints express My wretchedness? Where can I find the words That can describe my woe? The severed heads And hands and mangled feet are there; for these Their sire, for all his greed, could not devour. But Oh, I feel within my vitals now That horrid thing which struggles to be free, But can no exit find. Give me the sword, Which even now is reeking with my blood, That it may set my children free from me. Thou wilt not give it me? Then let my breast Resound with crushing blows—but hold thy hand, Unhappy one, and spare the imprisoned shades. Oh, who has ever seen such crime as this? What dweller on the rough and hostile crags Of Caucasus, or what Procrustes dire, The terror of the land of Attica? Lo I, the father, overwhelm my sons, And by those very sons am overwhelmed. Is there no limit to this crime of thine? Atreus: When one for its own sake commits a crime, There is a proper limit; but no end Is possible when vengeance through the crime Is sought. E'en as it is, this deed of mine Is all too mild. I should have poured their blood